Dr. Sara Tancredi: [Cut to Fox River infirmary. Sara tends to Michael's bandaged foot] No redness or swelling, so there's no sign of infection. I'm going to keep it on antibiotics for the next ten days. You should be good!
[She stands up]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Michael you understand by law I'm obligated to file a report if I feel there's been prisoner misconduct. There's no way this injury happened by stepping on a blade in a garden shed.
[Michael pulls on his sock]
Michael Scofield: If you file the report, things could get a lot worse for me.
Dr. Sara Tancredi: They're not already?
Michael Scofield: Not compared to what they could be.
[He looks down]
Michael Scofield: I've made some enemies.
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Yeah. Scared?
[Michael doesn't say anything]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Man enough. Okay.
[Michael smiles and laughs softly]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Um, here's what I think. I think you are scared, and you wouldn't be human if you weren't scared in a place like this.
Michael Scofield: When I was young, I couldn't sleep at night.
[He finishes tying his shoe]
Michael Scofield: Because I thought there was a monster in the closet.
Michael Scofield: But my brother told me there wasn't anything in the closet but fear. And fear wasn't real. He said it wasn't made of anything, it was just
Michael Scofield: air. Not even that. He said you just have to face it. You just have to open that door, and the monster would disappear.
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Your brother sounds like a smart man.
Michael Scofield: He is. In here though, you face your fear. You open that door, and there's a hundred more doors behind it. And the monsters that are hiding behind them, are all real.
Dr. Sara Tancredi: If you want, I could recommend you be sent to AdSeg.
Michael Scofield: [Smiling bluntly] With the rape victims and the snitches.
[He stands up]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: It would keep you safe.
Michael Scofield: Thanks. But I think I'd like to face the monsters on my own.
[He walks out]
Fernando Sucre: [catching Michael hiding a bar of soap disguised as a cell phone] Tell me that ain't what I think it is.
Michael Scofield: It ain't what you think it is.
Michael Scofield: [Michael is prepping the escape, Haywire catches Michael in the act] What's your problem?
Haywire: I got a neuroanatomic lesion affecting my reticular activating system.
Michael Scofield: What does that mean?
Haywire: It means I don't sleep... at all.
Captain Brad Bellick: Open on forty! Scofield. Found you a new celly. As luck would have it, I found him in the psych ward. You were the only guy with an empty tray, so...
Michael Scofield: Psych ward?
Captain Brad Bellick: You got a problem with that? Because if you do, please feel free to drop it in my suggestion box here.
[He taps the toilet]
Captain Brad Bellick: Haywire, get in here! Close it up on forty! Oh, and Scofield? Just a heads up. Don't make eye contact with him.
Lincoln Burrows: Bellick.
Captain Brad Bellick: What's up, Lincoln?
Lincoln Burrows: I want some extra time outside for the next couple weeks.
Captain Brad Bellick: [laughs] Paint fumes from PI must be getting to you.
Lincoln Burrows: Cell phones allowed in here?
[he stands up and Bellick takes off his hat]
Lincoln Burrows: Extra time outside. Couple cigarettes?
Captain Brad Bellick: Half hour, one week, one cigarette.
[Lincoln nods and walks to his cell]
Lincoln Burrows: Know a con named Sucre?
Captain Brad Bellick: I thought you said you were gonna have a conversation with him.
John Abruzzi: [holding Michael's severed toes] Yeah, I did. Things, uh... escalated.
John Abruzzi: [after elbowing T-Bag hard in the face] Ah, he talks too much.
Michael Scofield: What are you doing?
Fernando Sucre: What's it look like I'm doing? I'm rolling it up.
Michael Scofield: You can't do this!
Fernando Sucre: I'm done playin' your reindeer games, fish. I'm gonna transfer to a nice, quiet cell with a normal cellie. One that doesn't screw my entire life up.
Michael Scofield: Preparation will only take you so far. After that you gotta take a few leaps of faith.
Michael Scofield: Lincoln, we have a problem.
Lincoln Burrows: How far behind are we?
Michael Scofield: Three days.
Lincoln Burrows: I thought you said the margin for error was zero days.
Michael Scofield: I did.
[Michael has had some of his toes cut off and Sara goes to unwrap the sock cover his foot]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: Okay, let's take a look.
[Michael, crying, grabs her wrists frantically, not able to handle very much more]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: [Softly, gently] You're okay, you're okay.
[He slowly let's go of her wrists and she quickly but gently unwraps the red sock. Michael sees his foot, looks away and cries harder]
Dr. Sara Tancredi: What happened?
[taking a deep breath]
Michael Scofield: Nothing.
Dr. Sara Tancredi: This isn't nothing Michael, I need you to tell me what happened.
[Delirious because of the pain]
Michael Scofield: Don't make me lie to you.
[She looks at him, alarmed]
Michael Scofield: Please!
[the cellphone Michael had was a piece of painted soap]
Fernando Sucre: Soap. I lost my conjugals... over soap.
Reverend Mailor: Can I ask you something? Why have you denied any family or loved ones to be there for you at the end?
Lincoln Burrows: Why would I let them watch me die? I've already caused them enough pain.
Reverend Mailor: Maybe it's not about them watching you die.
Lincoln Burrows: Maybe it's about me watching them live. Is that the final torture?
Reverend Mailor: No. It's about how you want to leave the world. What is the last image you want to take with you? A stranger?
John Abruzzi: Got an issue with our little friend over there?
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: I don't gotta come to you. You don't give the green light.
John Abruzzi: Everything in here runs through me, you know that.
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: Maytag's in the ground because of that piece of detritus.
John Abruzzi: So now you want him.
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: Every day, for the rest of his bid.
John Abruzzi: Seems you and I have something in common, then.
Warden Henry Pope: Why didn't you include any names?
Lincoln Burrows: Why would I want anyone to watch me die?
Warden Henry Pope: I've seen it happen a number of ways. Some people want to go it alone, others have grandiose statements that they want to make, but most want some member of their family there before they leave this world.
Lincoln Burrows: I'll go it alone.
Warden Henry Pope: Son. In my opinion, all inmates who have made that choice have deeply regretted it in their final minutes. I'll uh, leave it blank for now. You have less than four weeks now. You should give it some thought.
John Abruzzi: [Cut to the line heading back to the block. Michael gets pushed out of the line and into a side room by Gus. He looks around, worried] Easy now, Fish, don't make this any harder than it needs to be.
[He stands with his back to Michael. He turns around]
John Abruzzi: It's time we came to an arrangement, don't you think?
[T-Bag steps out from behind him and looks up]
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: [Smiling] You know, I was thinkin' I was gonna cut you bile to stern soon as I laid eyes on you, but a lack-a day, you look so pretty when you're scared, don't you?
[He turns to Abruzzi]
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: Maybe we ought to get the love out of the way before we move onto the hate.
[He turns back to Michael]
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: What do you say to that, Pretty?
[He licks his lips]
Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell: Hmm? Yeah... yeah, maybe it's time I lit up that leather once and for all.
[He puts the shank down on a wall. As soon as he's unarmed, Abruzzi elbows him hard in the face. Michael shields his face with his arm. Abruzzi fights T-Bag off and his group incapacitate him. Abruzzi turns back to Michael]
John Abruzzi: Ahh, he talks too much.
[He grabs the back of Michael's head and pulls it toward him]
John Abruzzi: You and I need to have a conversation.
[They walk back into the line]
John Abruzzi: What happened in there was my way of saying uh, I know I've been coming about this whole thing the wrong way.
[CO's rush to the room where T-Bag lays]
John Abruzzi: I'm trying to make amends here. Bygones for bygones.
[He holds out his hand]
Michael Scofield: You're a mercurial man, John.
John Abruzzi: I prefer bold.
[He laughs and walks forward]
John Abruzzi: [They walk out past the yard] Tell me what you need from me.
Michael Scofield: A trade. You get me a plane, I'll get you Fibonacci.
John Abruzzi: What do you need a plane for?
Michael Scofield: I think you know.
John Abruzzi: I help you, I'm in. You know that, don't you?
Michael Scofield: I do.
John Abruzzi: I just gotta know the exact date and time.
Michael Scofield: I'll tell you soon enough.
John Abruzzi: Soon enough ain't gonna cut it. I need to be outside these walls before Fibonacci testifies.
Michael Scofield: You will be.
John Abruzzi: He testifies in one month.
Michael Scofield: Then we'll be out in plenty of time.
John Abruzzi: If not, you're a corpse. So you'd better cut the crap and tell me the exact date and time so I can start making the arrangements.
Michael Scofield: I don't know if I can trust you with that information yet.
John Abruzzi: Why not?
Michael Scofield: Like I said, John, you're a mercurial man.
Philly Falzone: This is what I don't understand, John. Fibonacci fingers you. He puts you in prison for life. Yet you act like you don't even want to find out where he is.
John Abruzzi: That's not true, Philly.
Philly Falzone: Maybe it's because you think you don't have anything left to lose anymore. You know, you're already locked up.