Oh, the tension! Team Escapara has to bail on the escape plan and there's a very tense moment when it looks like Bellick is going to twig to the hole in the ground because he bursts into the work area before Westmoreland's outâ¦but then when he comes back, Westmoreland's miraculously there. And then there's a very tense moment when Michael scampers around the ducts looking for a rat, which he then employs to break the electric chairâ¦but nobody catches him. And then there's a very tense scene where it looks like Linc might possibly have his sentence commutedâ¦but that doesn't happen and we see that Dr. Sara's dad is in cahoots with Madame Vice President, the Mistress of Darkness. And things are very tense indeed for young Tweener after Bellick puts the screws to him.
But the most tense part of all? Is at the very end of the episode, when it looks like Linc's going to go to the chair after all. I cannot wait until week to see how this turns out!
Previously on Prison Break: first, the earth cooled. And then the dinosaurs came, but they got too big and fat, so they all died and they turned into oil. And then the Arabs came and they bought Mercedes Benzes. And then Michael Scofield committed armed robbery so he could be sent to the same prison where his brother Lincoln Burrows was held, so as to prevent Lincoln's execution for a crime he didn't commit. And as Michael kept discovering all sorts of obstacles on the inside, Lincoln's ex-girlfriend Veronica kept discovering all sorts of evidence of conspiracy on the outside. When last we left everyone, Michael learned that the corroded pipe he was counting on for Linc's escape was replaced, and fellow escapee T-Bag was getting stabby.
And when we come back, Michael's very calmly saying, "Unless you're going to use the shank to take out the pipe, put it away." This only incenses T-Bag more, but since Sucre and C-Note both threaten to put a little hurt on him, he has to settle for snarling, "Remember, Pretty, I'm serving life plus one. So if I get busted for attempted escape, I'ma throw in a homicide, no problem. That's like a parking ticket to me." Everyone's all caught up in this little drama for a moment before the systematic thumping above them alerts them to Linc's efforts to break through the new pipe. Oh, that Linc -- when in doubt, hit something.
Fortunately, Linc stops thumping right before Dr. Sara comes in. The woman who was recently menaced by inmates on the loose is not at all alarmed to see Linc roaming about the clinic. She only asks if he's okay, and he makes up a story about how he decided to boot in the grate instead of the sink. Dr. Sara notices that he's pulled out his IV, and she chides him about that. The guard also known as the False Pope (i.e. the man who was all, "Call me Warden!" during sex with Becky) comes in to check up on everyone, then asks sharply, "Why isn't he handcuffed to a table?" "What's he going to do -- steal a cotton ball?" Dr. Sara shoots back. The False Pope's not having it, and makes a move to cuff Linc.
Meanwhile, Team Escapara's freaking out because they hear footprints coming toward the closet.
Then there's a very tense sequence in which we shoot between the guard entering the storeroom and juuuuuuust missing the inmates hidden within, and the False Pope cuffing Linc. The first time I saw this, I was over at my friend Mary-Lynn's fabulous apartment and we were both on the edge of her fabulous red couch. I may have been peeking through my fingers and squealing.
Once the guards leave, Westmoreland steps out and, in a voice that makes me weak in the knees because it's so manly and bad-assed, says, "We've got to go, now." I like to rewind that moment and replay it while closing my eyes and pretending that he's talking to me while we're in the middle of an exciting yet dangerous espionage mission. Is that weird? He barks, "Give me the rope now," and unfortunately, that sends the fantasy mission in a whole weird territory I'm not comfortable discussing on the internet. Team Escarpara quickly shimmies down into the pipe from whence they came in the last episode -- all except Michael, who's clutching the metal bookcase and looking like he's about to snap. Sucre prods him into moving. Michael prepares to descend, with one last look at the pipe. Michael looks like he's going to cry.
Eventually, a couple of the screws come back in to examine the length of pipe left on the floor. They debate whether it was broken off or if someone broke it, and really, the whole point here is to allow us to can see Michael dangling mere inches beneath their feet, looking like Batman with the whole clutching-a-rope-and-looking-haunted thing. I have a feeling some of the members of the First Church of Wentworth Miller wouldn't say no to him running around in a latex batsuit.
Commercials. That one with the cat daubing paint as a low-cost alternative to making color copies is funny only if you've never had to shampoo a cat to get actual paint out of its fur.
When we get back, Bellick's heading off to some dive called Sharkey's so that he may partake in their two-for-Tuesday promotion. He asks a coworker if he'd like to hoist a few, but the man pleads that the wife expects him home. "Wuss," Bellick decrees, thereby providing the world's most succinct explanation as to why there's probably an ex-Mrs. Bellick out there somewhere. But as Bellick prepares to head out, he notices that none of the sheetrock outside St. Louis has been moved inside, and some nameless screw tells him that the P.I. crew is letting it dry out. "Still?" Bellick says skeptically.
Just to ratchet up the tension, we see Team Escarpara hustling through the pipes and pulling themselves out of the hole as Bellick walks over to the building. In short order, C-Note, Sucre, T-Bag, and Michael are out. There's a cool shot of the four of them looking back down into the hole -- we get it from the perspective where they're looking at us -- and Westmoreland lets them know he's caught on something. Aieee!
Bellick comes in and bangs on the door. All four men look up. The door's been locked with a metal bar, and we intercut between the guys hustling around and Bellick yanking on the door. It's so tense! He finally shakes the door open, and when he comes in, the four guys are standing around looking sullen. It's like a boy band video gone horribly wrong. Bellick demands to know why the door was locked, and T-Bag uses his gift of prevarication for not-terribly-evil by saying, "It's not locked, boss. The fan kept pushing it open so we decided to wedge it closed." Bellick is none too pleased to hear this. He snarls, "You've been in here all night and you haven't done a damn thing." Sucre protests that the room's still wet, so there's nothing they can do. Michael -- who had picked up a crowbar earlier -- walks to the front of the crowd and drops the crowbar right where Bellick can see it. He's looking P-I-S-S-E-D and frankly, he's never been hotter. It would be cruel to make him angry all the time, but if it results in such flattering lighting, perhaps the cruelty can be justified on aesthetic grounds. Bellick is immune to the charm, however, and asks Michael if he has something he'd like to say. "Yeah!" he says. "I think you're a mean meanie who means! A little positive enforcement would make us work harder than all this negativity!" Oh, come on. Bellick bids them, "Wrap it up. And all four of you get your asses back to the block." Then he takes off. It's not until after he's walked out that he realizes there were only four cons. Bellick wheels back inside, and all four men look guilty as hell. (In a prison? What are the odds?) The guard then drawls, softly and maliciously, "You seem to be one light." Westmoreland straightens up after tying his bootlace and mildly says, "Right here, boss." Aw, yeah!
After Bellick takes off, that's when C-Note pitches a hissy about how he should be halfway home to seeing his family. "And I should be halfway to the spring cotillion," T-Bag moans. The guard comes in and hustles them up, but even he seems to be taken aback by the sour mood among Team Escarpara. The inmates sulk all the way back to their cells. But they look really cool, all walking in slow motion with dramatic lighting.
The morning, Pope's outside doing an interview with one of the swarm of reporters who have descended upon Fox River in anticipation of the gruesome execution. Pope carries on about the strict guidelines and measures in place for an execution, all of which surely must include putting the inmate on a P.I. work crew, letting him roam about an infirmary unattended, and so on. At some point, he also pontificates on the whole sordid mess with "I believe in the process, but I don't relish the prospect of taking another man's life. Whether it's just or not, there's no joy in what lies before us today."
We zoom back to see LJ watching the TV. In his grief, he has forsaken shampoo.
Meanwhile, back in Fox River, life is going as usual. This is so unlike reality as I know it: as y'all may or may not know, during the show's hiatus we here in California were treated to one death row controversy surrounding Stanley "Tookie" Williams's execution, the execution of Clarence Ray Allen, and then the big brouhaha over whether lethal injection was cruel and unusual punishment, which has led to Michael Morales's temporary stay of execution. And the one thing that got mentioned in all three of these stories is that, in the day preceding an execution, the prison is on total lockdown. So you can see why I am incredulous that the inmates are just shuffling along like it's any other day here.
Michael and Sucre are chillin' like villains in their cell. Sucre wants to cuddle. Well, actually, he only gives Michael a big verbal snuggle by saying that he's not at all mad at Michael for the botched escape attempt. Michael's actually quite touched. He tells Sucre, "There's only one person who can stop this execution."
Ding! It's a shot of Dr. Sara, lit so that she appears suffused with the guileless, beatific glow of a virgin saint. Even Michael seems knocked back by it -- or maybe it's just that he caught sight of his brother waiting in the clinic. Michael's escorted into another room, the better for him and Linc to exchange searing looks. Dr. Sara gazes upon this with an expression that suggests she's about to burst into a stanza of "I Don't Know How To Love Him."
When Dr. Sara walks into Michael's examination room, he bursts out, "I need to see my brother. Just to talk for five minutes." Dr. Sara immediately scampers out to see if she can sweet-talk the guards into that, but it's a no-go. Michael then begs her to talk to her father, and she goes to head him off. Michael plows over her: "Sara -- Dr. Tancredi, I'm sorry, this isn't about the morality of the death penalty. This is about killing an innocent man, my brother, and surely your father can't be in favor of that." Sara is like, "My father is pretty much in favor of whatever I oppose, just on principle. That includes the death penalty, unfortunately."
Commercials. Hey, did y'all know Abruzzi became a metrosexual? Stabbing agrees with him.
When we get back from commercials, we see Nick and Veronica hectoring Nick's little friend from court. We also see that Veronica's recovered from witnessing Hale's murder, courtesy of a little retail therapy. That black coat looks good on her. To make a tedious scene slightly less so, let me sum up: Nick and Veronica want an exhumation order for the VP's body, and Lyle the Effeminate Hetero Lawyer dismisses this as a load of poppycock, but still manages to get them fifteen minutes with a judge in the afternoon.
Back in the prison yard, Sucre is reassuring Michael that Linc knows Michael tried his best: "He's your brother -- he knows you." T-Bag comes over and basically threatens Michael, and Sucre jumps all over him: "Back up, or I'll beat your skinny ass into the ground. And it wouldn't take much to do it, too." Yeah -- especially that none of the Fabulous Gay White Supremacists seem to be around to back him up.
The guards tell everyone to move back inside, and Westmoreland makes his way over to tell Michael how sorry he is about Linc's impending electrocution. Michael also apologizes, saying, "I know you were counting on this." "Let me worry about my problems," says Westmoreland. "I know you got enough on your mind right now." So classy! I may have to begin calling him the Silver Fox, so stylish and compelling is he. Anyway, Westmoreland says, "I've known a few men who sat in that chair. As the day grows near, all you can really do is pray it goes quickly. Once, about ten years ago, there was a man who caught a few sparks -- not enough to do the job. Had to wait another three weeks while they reset the whole process. It may sound crazy, but he said it was the worst three weeks of his life. It's not the lightning that kills you -- it's the weight." The larger philosophical message is lost on Michael, because he's just been hit with his own lightning bolt of inspiration. "So if something happens to the chair, he's got three more weeks," Michael says. Westmoreland points out that there's a lot of protocol involved in killing a man by the book. Tweener pops by and that conversation's over. Westmoreland looks mildly amused by Tweener's presence.
Back in the cell, Michael decides he's going in. Sucre hangs the sheet without even a desultory crack about how the inmates are beginning to whisper things like, "God, that Scofield must be an animal, he and Sucre are behind that sheet so much."
Once Michael's running around the rest of the prison, he uses a near-empty packet of potato chips to catch the world's cutest, cleanest little sewer rat.
We then zoom in on a pair of handcuffed hands twisting nervously; a female hand comes in and soothes them. When we pull back, we see that it's Dr. Sara holding Linc's hand. That's very sweet. She asks if he has any questions, and Linc's like, "Yeah, I do. And they're all very grim." Then he moves on to ask how Michael is, and Sara says, "He's anxious to see you. Unfortunately, we've been told that's not possible until final visitation." Linc asks if she's been through this before. Sara says she hasn't, but because a doctor needs to be present at the execution, she'll be there tonight. Linc asks a favor: "When I'm gone, will you look out for my brother?" For some reason, this makes Sara's eyes bug out. It is unclear whether they're bugging out with empathy, dismay, pity, terror, or lust. Perhaps it's all of the above.
And now, a scene that unfairly maligns the humble yet exquisite pleasure of a hot, salty French fry dipped into a smooth, cold milkshake. Bellick is grilling his little rat Tweener on any dirt in the prison yard. When Tweener fails to produce any decent intelligence, Bellick tells him that the hamburger he's been chewing is now $100, payment's due at the end of the shift, and Tweener can either sell his virtue to the highest bidder or else. Tweener babbles that Michael and Westmoreland were chatting about how executions can be delayed if the chair's broken.
Commercials. There has got to be a quota for how many movies the Adam Sandler-era SNLers are allowed to make. Please?
Once we're back, Bellick charges into the death chamber and asks another CO if the chair is working, in a tone not much different than "Is the barbecue ready?" Bellick demands that the other CO run a test, and the guy snaps, "I already did. The electrical contractor signed off on it this morning. We're good to go." Bellick tells him to run it again. "Why?" the CO wants to know. "Because I have this all-consuming obsession with Michael Scofield, I just terrorized a rat into giving me information, and I suspect that Michael's messed with the chair," Bellick doesn't say. The guy runs another test -- this consists of someone pushing up two giant levers in a ritual that has a barbaric, boy-howdy- those-horseless-carriages- might-catch-on feel to it -- and the chair fails to spark. Bellick smugly says, "It ain't working."
Cut to Sucre and Michael just wandering about the cellblock. Sucre's catching up on events: "So once they redo all the paperwork, your brother gets three more weeks?" Michael confirms this. Sucre asks if they're going to make another escape, and Michael points out that he can't corrode the same pipe twice without raising suspicions. Sucre asks, "You got another way?" and Michael replies, "Right now, I'm just worried about getting through tonight."
As well he should be. Bellick and the other CO are winding their way through the warren of passages leading back to the fuse box/switch box/big, complicated important-looking thing that powers the electrical chair. Bellick opens the gate right up. The other guy is a little alarmed at his alacrity -- "Careful, there's two thousand volts running through that thing" -- but Bellick has nothing to fear, since his head is filled with rocks and they makes lousy electrical conductors. So he whips open the door, and the two of them notice the flash-fried rat currently draped over one of the fuses.
Now we get a trippy little sequence in which we get all sorts of close-in camera angles of Linc's nose while he prays: "I came in here a man. Give me the strength to walk out of here a man." While you're making requests, consider asking for some facial lotion too; those crow's-feet could have been prevented.
A bunch of guards come on by to shave Linc's head. He stands and asks to see Michael, and the screw says, "When we move you to final visitation." A CO goes to put Linc in chains, and the one actor getting paid to talk stops him, and then says, "It's your last day, Linc. I'd prefer to keep you out of cuffs as much as possible. I need some assurances." Linc replies, "You've always been straight with me, Stoltz. You have my word." Linc sits down, and Stoltz unzips his shaving case.
Meanwhile, Veronica's making friends in the courtroom by arguing, "Mr. Burrows's case has been tainted by conspiracy, contaminated by destruction of evidence, distortion of the truth, and witness intimidation." The other lawyer stands up and says that there's no proof, and Veronica snaps, "What have I been arguing for the past twenty minutes?" "You got me," the other guy shoots back. Heh! He took the words right out of my mouth. Nick then jumps in, but over the few minutes, all the claims he and Veronica make -- records destroyed, apartment blown up, Kellerman's intimidation -- are easily refuted by the other lawyer. The interesting part: an affadavit from the Secret Service states that at no time has anyone named Paul Kellerman or Daniel Hale been employed there. The lawyer keeps going: "There were no other witnesses to this shooting, no bullets were found, no blood, no shell casings; the only witness to the alleged murder is Veronica Donovan -- Lincoln Burrows's ex-girlfriend." Nick's giving Veronica a look like, "Is there nothing you CAN'T screw up?" The judge finally snaps, "Do either of you have any evidence at all? Even just tangible? Your claims, if true, are terrifying, but anything or anyone that could verify your story is gone, missing, or dead." Nick fails to point out that the good judge has basically defined the very nature of a conspiracy with that summation.
Back in the prison, an electrician (who has the best Chicagoland accent I've heard on this show) plucks the rat from its shocking setting and says, "These little bastards are the bane of my existence, I swear to God." I want that as a sound file, so I can then use it as a ringtone for my phone. Better -- so I can sell it as a ringtone. Bellick asks if the electrician can change the fuse; that's a go. Bellick wants it done right now. The electrician replies, "Right after I notify the state and fill out the paperwork." Bellick protests, "Now hold up...you're going to give more time to a guy who killed the Vice-President's brother. This guy's a terrorist." Yes -- I can see how (presumably) killing one person in a car is a bigger threat to our national interest than, say, eavesdropping on them without their approval or selling off the nation's infrastructure to the highest foreign bidder without rigorous review, so you go right ahead and fling around that "terrorist" label, Bellick. The electrician's not cool with this, pointing out that they could all face charges. Bellick basically intimidates him into changing the fuse without going through the proper channels first.
Then Bellick celebrates by fetching Michael from the cell. He tells Michael, "Your brother's going to be transported to final visitation soon. You can meet him there." Sucre looks at Michael in shock, and Michael sort of gapes. Bellick pounces on this, noting with a sneer, "You look surprised. You knew it was scheduled today." Michael's jaw swings gently in the breeze. Before Michael can reply, the prison lights flicker in confirmation that Ol' Sparky is working once more. Bellick goads him, "You were saying?," but Michael's got the stone face on once again.
As the electricity keeps on going out, Dr. Sara looks up, all troubled.
Stoltz is finishing up the job. It says something about the infinite variety in human opinions that when I watched this scene with Mary-Lynn, she fervently muttered, "Oh, to be a razor right now..." and when I watched it again to recap it, the husband's voice came floating up from the depths of the couch with "The guy who shaves Lincoln's head has the easiest job in the world..."
Commercials. I totally can't wait to see Thank You For Smoking. "The state of Vermont will not apologize for its cheese" -- hee! Priceless!
When we get back, it's time for final visitation. When Linc comes in, Michael turns and looks at him with an expression that makes him look all of twelve years old. Linc's trying to maintain an impassive cool, but when the False Pope reminds him that he's got to change into his Death Pajamas -- complete with adult diapers, since God Forbid the state have to clean up the mess they make when killing a man -- and helpfully explains, "At the moment of death, your body becomes incontinent." Lincoln wearily says, "A diaper." "You need to wear it," the False Pope says. Or else what? They'll kill him? Linc gives Michael a look like, "Can you believe this?," and Michael is smiling a little at the absurdity of it all. Linc shuffles over, and Michael razzes him a little about the hair with, "Good look on you." Then they hug, and Michael tearfully tells him, "I did everything I could." Linc reassures him, "I know you did." I love it when these two fall into their sibling dynamic. They break apart, and Linc tells Michael, "Last time I had my head shaved, I was running with Derek. Remember Derek?" Michael sort of does. Linc said, "He bet me forty bucks I wouldn't shave it. I said, 'Make it a hundred.' He still owes me." Linc is a sucker -- our own Sars wouldn't do it for less than $30,000. Michael wants to know if there's any news from Veronica, but Linc is like, "Look, enough with the eleventh-hour nonsense. This whole 'maybe you won't roast' discussion is killing me. Um, you know what I mean."
Meanwhile, on the outside, Veronica is busy telling LJ that he really can't drop by the execution, what with being a wanted man and all, but her rare display of logic fails to stop him in amazement, much less compel him to listen to reason. The tiff is interrupted as Nick's cell phone rings and, within seconds, we've confirmed that, no, there is no good legal reason why this execution shouldn't go on ahead. And yet Veronica still looks surprised. She'll never get used to losing in court, will she? Well, she should. Anyway, Veronica's off to the prison; Nick and LJ plan to chill at home. There's a knock on the door, and Nick hustles LJ to the back room. Then Nick opens the door, and it's Dr. Sara! She asks, "Are you the attorneys for Lincoln Burrows?" Nick looks too stunned to answer.
In the final visitation, Linc's pancakes are barely eaten, and he's winning a game of gin rummy. Michael's absently humming as he picks up cards, and Linc interrupts him to ask, "You letting me win, Michael?" Michael lies that he's not. The two of them begin bickering, and Michael sounds about ten as he squeakily protests, "I'm not going to show you my cards!" Linc grabs them and we see a two, three, four and five of clubs, a ten of spades, a ten of hearts and a ten of clubs. Michael sheepishly says, "Gin." The talk then turns to pancakes, and Linc says of them, "They're the only decent thing I did for [LJ]." Michael protests, "You were there for him." "Not enough," Linc replies. He adds, "I don't know how I could stomach this stuff before." Speaking of things I have no idea how Linc could stomach before, it's Veronica! There's a long, long, emotional hug and that's when Michael realizes that the appeal was denied. Veronica leans over to tell Michael that Sara came by. He goggles in shock. At long last, a bit of planning that's worked out for him -- all that flirtation over insulin shots worked out! Michael's all, "Is she going to talk to her father?" and Veronica replies, "I sure as hell hope so." Linc, however, has no time for this kind of talk because he has a pity party to host. Veronica tells him that she couldn't bring LJ to attend the sullen soiree. But she offers to raise him on the phone.
Nick passes the phone off to LJ, and Linc cheers things up immediately with, "Ah, this is it." But to his credit, he rallies. Linc tells LJ, "I want you to stick with Veronica and Nick, and clear your name." LJ expresses a fervent wish to be with his father, and Linc shakily replies, "Me too." LJ continues, "'Cause there's something I want to tell you...I had a dream last night. You and me were working on a house, pounding nails, and in the dream, it felt like we were older. It was so clear, the whole dream.. And when I woke, I knew that today wasn't going to be the end -- that we'll see each other again, Dad. I know it. I love you, Dad." When LJ starts this monologue, we're focused on Lincoln's face, and he's about to lose it -- eyes welling, jaw working, expression completely devastated. And then we switch to LJ, who is looking resolute until the moment he has to tell his dad he loves him. And it may just be the tequila from the dinnertime margarita taking effect, but darned if this scene doesn't make me a little misty.
Cut to Dr. Sara trying her darnedest to convince her dad (a.k.a. Governor Tancredi) that the state will be putting an innocent man to death. He's not having a whole lot of this, and she finally says in desperation, "The least you could do is review his case. And Dad, if it helps, pretend it didn't come from me." She stalks off, and Gov. Tancredi watches her go with an expression like, "Okay, I WON'T, then!"
We get a shot of a full moon, the moon soon obliterated by a dark cloud. Gosh, is there any way that can reflect the truth being obscured by a dark conspiracy? Or perhaps indicative of a life being snuffed out by the forces of evil? Or sometimes an obvious transition shot is just an obvious transition shot.
Linc has now begun passing around the WAH-petizers at his pity party, bemoaning that he's going to go down in infamy with John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald. Linc gives himself too much credit. First, we never got his middle name, and having a middle name is, like, the primary rule for assassins. Second, he shot the Vice-President's brother. We live in a country where few people can even tell you the name of the man the Vice-President himself shot. What makes you think we're up on his siblings? (For the record, Dick Cheney shot Harry Whittington. He has a brother named Bob and a sister named Susan.) Then Linc throws the I-didn't-do-it fit. Michael and Veronica both have identical "Well, this is awkward" looks. Linc settles down, and the COs come back in with Pope. None of them look as though they're relishing this, but I say that only because Bellick's not visible.
In the shot, Linc has changed, and he's in manacles; he's shuffling toward Ol' Sparky. Dr. Sara has teleported back to the prison. The whole procession shuffles to a halt as some CO sprints down the hall, all, "Warden! The governor's on the line!" And you know how before I was all, "Well, we all have different reactions"? Now I aim to show you the universality of some human responses. The first time we watched this, Mary-Lynn and I were all, "What, the governor's going to call all, 'Hey! I was just making sure you're still going ahead with that execution'?" And then when I began watching this scene again for the recap, the husband yelped from the depths of the couch, "What, the governor's going to call all, 'Hey! I was just making sure you're still going ahead with that execution'?" And sadly, the answer to that question -- both times it was asked -- is "Yes." Yes, the governor called with a go-ahead. And yes, apparently the possibility that he'd do this was a big freakin' surprise to the penal institution that's put people to death before. What is a mild surprise: when the governor hangs up, Madam Vice President, the Mistress of Evil, is hovering over his shoulder like a harpy, commending him on his patriotism. Yes -- because nothing says "America!" like sending innocent men to die.
And now, Bellick. He blocks Veronica and Michael, explaining, "You can't go past here. Once [Lincoln's] escorted to the death chamber, you can go to the viewing room." The stricken Veronica gives Linc an agonizing look, and then manages to ask, in a voice thick with tears, "Can I...?" Bellick doesn't look at her, but he lets her go ahead. Veronica walks over to Linc, her face crumpling as she begins to cry, but she slowly, deliberately embraces him. And when she tells him, "I've loved you since the first time I saw you," she's steady. Her face begins trembling after that, and when she pulls away, she more or less embodies the phrase "she fell apart." Veronica barely manages to walk away.
Pope orders Michael to be uncuffed. He shuffles over; his face is in near-total shadow so that we don't see his expression. When he embraces Linc, they're utterly silent, both faces in shadow. Pope comes over and says, with brusque compassion, "Let's go, son."
Lincoln shuffles off, and as he does, his life flashes before his eyes. It's not at all linear, but one big theme stands out: a lot of scenes where everyone's telling each other to have faith. The last part of the flashback is Lincoln dropping his head as he prays, "Give me the strength to walk out of here a man," and then we're back in the present, where Linc lifts his head as if that prayer has been answered. He marches toward the chamber --
And that's the episode. AIGHH! The tension! Will Linc live or will he die? We'll find out week.