Michael woke slowly, his body having grown unaccustomed to rest. After all, it'd been months since he last slept, really slept without worrying, or planning, or thinking about what was going to happen to his brother. Had it really only been months? It felt like years and sometimes, he wished it had been. If he'd had more time, maybe he wouldn't have had to hurt Sarah like he did. She'd risked her whole career as a Doctor for him, even her life… and she shouldn't have had to. He wondered, especially now, how she was. What was she up to? Was she in danger?
Danger... Amanda. As quick as he'd thought of Sarah, his mind returned again to the girl that'd taken over his thoughts last night. Was it a good or a bad sign that she didn't call the police? Most people would've… but obviously, Amanda wasn't like most.
He sat up and, finding that his brother was gone, crept to the door and out into the hall. It wasn't like Lincoln to just get up and not sleep. He preached about getting rest- he always had. One of Michael's earliest memories was that of his brother chasing him through their parent's apartment, trying to make sure he was in bed by the time either parent came home. Lincoln not sleeping was concern enough but not returning to bed? Something wasn't right.
Michael continued creeping, slinking down the stairs and to the doorway of the kitchen, where he stopped to listen to the ongoing conversation. He didn't know who was in the room- he hadn't had time to look- but he recognized Amanda's voice first.
"Wait. So they tried to kill you during a riot in prison, tried to kill you when you were moved out to see your son, and all while they had you on death row for a murder you didn't do."
"Yeah." It was Lincoln.
"Well. If they're really doing this to draw your father out, why haven't they done anything to Michael? Why are they just going after you?"
"I knew him better, I guess. Mike was so young."
"He's still his son, just like you. There must be a reason they want you more."
"There is." Michael stepped into the doorway. "We just don't know it."
"Hey. I was about to come kick you out of bed." Lincoln dropped his fork beside the last of the eggs on his plate. "Didn't know you slept anymore."
"I didn't either. What about you?"
"Nah. I stayed up talking with our beautiful hostess."
Michael couldn't help but agree with his brother on this topic. Last night's Amanda couldn't compare to this morning's. There, in the dark kitchen, her pale skin gleamed and her eyes glimmered smartly. Her hair, which must've been clipped up last night, was now loose, flowing down to her mid back and catching the light in rivers of raven curls.
The tresses shook as with Lincoln's remark, she laughed, "Don't push it." She looked back at the clock over the stove then turned again to the younger of the brothers. "You'd better eat. We're leaving in about an hour."
"Leaving?" Michael looked at his brother.
"Plan's on." She said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "You need to get to Utah then Mexico. We live in Montezuma. You need a place to hide out until the heat is off. I have a place big enough to fit."
"Listen. You don't want to-"
"Michael," Lincoln stood. "We'll do it."
"Mind if I ask what else the plan entails?"
"I actually needed to talk to you about that." Amanda slid a plate of food across the counter. "Sit."
Michael crossed the room and pulled out the stool directly across from their hostess, but she didn't notice- her eyes were following Lincoln out of the room.
"You wanted to discuss something?"
Her eyes flew back to Michael. "Wha- I… uh… I don't know how to say this. I… I want to know who I'm helping here. Just humor me; tell me what these guys did, because I get you. I get Lincoln, but I don't get the others."
Both were silent for a long moment, watching the other, unsure of what to say. Finally, Michael nodded and picked up his fork. "Go ahead."
"Benjamin."
"Possession of stolen goods, not that he knew. His family thinks he's fighting overseas."
"Sucre."
"Aggravated robbery. He did it for a girl."
Amanda leaned forward. "Abruzzi."
"Abruzzi…" He paused, "is the kind of guy I'd prefer to leave in jail."
"Why?" She knew, but still asked.
"He's a mob hit man."
"A mob hit man."
"Yeah."
She had to do it. "I'm not stupid, you know. If he's a hit man, he should've called the "family" as soon as he had a chance. He hasn't, which means he wants something and seeing as how you're the master-mind, I'd bet you have whatever it is."
Michael looked up at the girl, cautiously feeling for the right words. Something about what she'd just said bothered him greatly… like she already knew about what she was asking for. "He wants Fibonacci."
"What's Fibonacci?"
"Fibonacci's a who, a witness in the case against the Abruzzi syndicate. I got his location before I went in, used it to get some favors."
"But you didn't tell the address?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because he did the right thing. He and his family don't deserve to die because of that."
As Michael finished, she went quiet, head reeling from the proverbial slap across the face. Fibonacci wasn't something, he was someone… and he'd be murdered if she ever gave Abruzzi the information.
Michael, meanwhile, sat, methodically gauging each reaction. She did. She knew something, but what? "You're very interested in this."
She looked up from the counter. "Yeah…well, it does involve me now, doesn't it?"
"What involves you?"
Amanda stopped and looked at the figure in the doorway. "Ant."
"Mandy." He stepped in and behind the counter to better see the stranger across from his sister. "Who're the guests?"
"They're guests."
"I'd never have guessed."
"They helped me last night when you passed out. I promised them a ride out west with us."
Anton didn't take his eyes of Michael. "So I owe you a thank you, Mr. …"
"Webber." They shook hands. "Michael Webber."
"And what do you do, Mr. Webber, that would have you out on the road with 4 friends in the middle of the night?"
"Construction."
"Construction?"
"You've got it."
Amanda pulled her brother's arm. "Ant. Can I talk to you for a minute… privately?"
"Gladly." He looked again at Michael. "In fact, plan for more than a minute." He added, then followed her from the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Anton stopped almost as soon as he thought they were out of earshot. He wasn't, but he believed he was.
"I'm helping someone besides us, Ant. You do remember what that's like, don't you?"
"Don't play the higher-than-thou card, Mandy. You pick up 5 guys in the middle of the night, in the middle of Illinois, and bring them home when I can't even protect you? What… what was going through your head?"
"That I wanted to help them."
"And who are they?"
"You want to know? Fine. They're escaped convicts from Fox River."
"Mandy, I want the truth!"
"Well, what you've got is what I'm giving you. Deal with it." Amanda knew she was pushing it, knew that this all could throw Anton into another fit, but she couldn't back down now before everyone was safe. A vein along his jaw was pulsing. His fists were clenched. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him this mad.
"Just.." He stopped to force some of the anger from his voice. "Just tell me that you're not doing this for her."
"Ant…"
"Promise me."
"I promise-I'm not doing it for her."
"Then go pack before I change my mind."
Amanda paused and looked at her brother for a long moment, not even sure what to say. He'd caved. Why was that bothering her more than if he'd not? Maybe it was the fact that both of the siblings had been at odds since she'd been 2 and he'd been 4, right up until they were 8 and 10, respectively, when the anger couldn't conquer the sorrow. Anton dropped his hands from his eyes and, pushing past his sister, silently left the room. Amanda couldn't help but feel like she'd just done something she would greatly regret… and that she'd hurt her own brother more than she could've possibly imagined.