THERE'S BOUND TO BE A FEW COMPLICATIONS WHEN YOU'RE BREAKING OUT OF PRISON…

"Well Fish, you're gonna need to find somewhere to put that blade, or the bulls are gonna find it, and your ass is going straight to the SHU! And you know what that means, don't you? Not only does that brother of yours get fried like a fish, but you get an extra ten years on your bit!"

T-Bag's voice hung in the air, taunting Michael to ask him why.

Michael thought it would just be easier to play along, even though he knew what the answer would be.

"And why would I get an extra ten years on my bit, T-Bag?"

"Because if we don't get out of here, my singing voice is gonna be belting out extra loud…"

Michael had cornered T-Bag after P.I, needing a favour. Michael knew that T-Bag had connections to some guys who worked with tools that could easily be fashioned into just the kind of weapon that he was looking for.

Although Michael could understand why T-Bag would be reluctant to do anything for anyone without him getting something in return, he was confused over the way T-Bag was worrying about where Michael would hide it. T-Bag knew that Michael was no snitch, and even if T-Bag did think Michael would tell a badge where he got the knife from, T-Bag had the upper hand. Day by day, their whole in the guard's break room was growing bigger, and day by day, each of the men that were in on the secret got more and more agitated. The boys would constantly come up to Michael, questioning whether or not the break would ever happen. And Michael would constantly tell them to go away, lest the guards get suspicious.

"I'll find a place, ok? And anyway, you owe me! Lincoln is my brother, and he's innocent, so I'm getting him out. Abruzzi is arranging for us to disappear, so we need him. We need Westmoreland's money, so he's coming, and Sucre's my cellmate. He would see me digging the whole behind our toilet so I can hardly leave him behind, can I? So do we have a deal? You get me the knife, and we're even."

Michael didn't want to say that they were even, because there was no way that him and T-Bag would ever be on the same plain, but it was the only way he could get the knife without T-Bag inquiring further.

"Ok boy. We have a deal. But I just wanna know, why do you need this blade so blade so badly, that you feel you need to lie to me? Because I only have to look at your eyes, and I can tell that you're lying. You think that we'll never be equal? Well now that's just unfair…"

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Two days later, Sucre found a long knife under his mattress. The blade was shiny and pointed, lethal looking. It had a handle attached, made out of tape and fabric that could be found on any undershirt in the prison. On top of it was a note addressed to Michael.

"Now I was doing a little thinking about our conversation the other day, and I thought 'Why was Pretty so evasive about why he needed this knife?' And then it hit me. While we were talking, you listed why you were taking certain people along and it occurred to me that you said that you were brining along Mr Mexican Cellmate because you could hardly leave him behind due to the fact that he would see everything. And then I thought, 'Why would Pretty need a knife in his cell if he was planning to be leaving through his cell? It's not like we're in danger of meeting anyone on the way…' And then I considered the fact that maybe you aren't planning to bring your friend along? I mean, it's not like he's doing you any particular favours, is he? I think you two need to have a nice talk, don't you?"

Sucre shivered. He could almost hear T-Bag's Southern drawl whispering behind him. Was this piece of paper speaking the truth? Sucre had been so sure that Michael was planning to bring him. If Michael didn't bring him along, then that bastard Hector would marry Maricruz, and then Sucre's life would be worth nothing.

Sucre whipped around as he heard Michael entering their cell. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and make sure that Michael was planning to bring him along. Sucre held the blade behind his back. If Michael was planning to kill him at all, he would most certainly do it when he found out that Sucre knew about the knife…

A/N. This chapter is just a pilot. I'm testing out some ideas that I have floating around, but I need stories to build them up, so please take the time to review and tell me what you think. About anything.