#;--)

      There was a sharp inhale as the words drew from his lips faster than she could stop them. He wasn’t incorrect. The field was heavily manned, the guards were over armed, && she was too uneducated about the landscape of the ground she was about to ATTEMPT to cover to even hope to make it out without an injury or two. Alive would be a better way of putting it but she wasn’t about to let him THAT far into her thought process to catch a glimpse of the worry that was surely spread paper thin across her face. This was stupid, even for her, but they didn’t have any other choice. O N E of them needed to make the third test run, someone needed to get the chemicals, one of them needed to put their life on the line, && since Sara had little to live for these days she practically signed up with a smile when he brought the idea forth. Without the chemicals he’d rattled off like a list of groceries they’d be set back W E E K S. She couldn’t afford weeks. Not again.

      Aqua hues turned from the depth of the tunnel they’d been uncovering to look back at the voice that was constantly offering alternate ways of doing things, a man who’s face she’d come to know unlike any other. It was the way his lips were turned d o w n that told her he was out of alternatives, the way the crease between crinkled brows had smoothed into a straight line that assured her that this was the only way. Even if he’d yet to admit it to himself.

      There was a brief p a u s e in breathing as her smile ticked up, offering a form of reassurance that only she could offer. He was W O R R I E D && she wasn’t too sure if it was because his partner in escape could be shot down && lost or if it was because his escape could go up in flames the moment she stopped breathing.  Whatever the reason was she found it C U T E to see how hard he tried to mask it behind features that had become all too readable within the months they’d already shared. He wasn’t as oblique as he once was && that alone was enough to drive the response that was gearing to drip from cracked lips.

                                             ❝ Have a little F A I T H, Michael. ❞

                he has an abundance of faith. each escape is structured with a plan  —  every time he pulls himself free of chains and bars, they have the steps mapped out. but some steps require leaps of faith. abruzzi. db cooper. sara  —  he’d had to trust. had to scrapple with the idea that if abruzzi ends up with his throat slit, there goes our ticket out of here.  if sara didn’t leave the infirmary door unlocked, there goes our ticket out of here. but he had no choice. the plans were orchestrated. meticulously planned down to the fine details themselves. except for those he can’t control.  ( the guards. the other inmates. fibonacci. ) that's where he has faith.

this entire escape has been based on the rooted growing vine of hope that snakes its way up from the depth of his stomach: there are no plans. he cannot plan for half of what happens down here, because they are still in the dark. still knees bent, sat in the corner of a cell waiting for the opportunity to arise.

                                                       we have to be smart about this.

             ‘  we will find another way, sara. there will be another way  —    ’      words of a desperate man reverberate between them  —  i can’t lose you to this.  hell isn’t so bad when there’s company.  ( she’s given him hope. reminded him that there’s a life outside this  — a life beyond the decisions. the consequences. the running. there’s a life out there that isn’t littered with bodies and crime. charles once told me that there’s no such thing as an ex-con. )