Once again, I apologize for the lack of editing.

If there was one thing Lucas prided himself in, it was his luck. He didn't attribute the amount of near-death escapes to skill alone. Yes, while skill was part of it, without luck he was sure he would have died a hundred times over. And he had a good amount of it.

Thus, when it came down to it, he didn't see a reason that he couldn't stir up some trouble. And what better way to do it than in the one place where prisoners from all wings gathered – the mess hall?

The idea was both exciting and one that he was sure could use to approach his target. All he needed to do was find a way to cause a stir without the guards being able to pin the start to him while at least one prisoner knew the truth. After that, he would have to depend on his luck that the rumors would reach the ears of his target.

Thus, as the inmates shuffled to breakfast, Lucas' mind was working to figure out his next steps. He studied the rows of cells, the metal stairs, and every single detail of his surroundings. Though they could be considered irrelevant to the chaos he planned, one never knew.

As he entered the cafeteria, he continued to study.

It was an open space, with picnic style metal tables and benches bolted to the floor. The stools were of light plastic – thus the damage in the occasional outbreak of anger they could do little damage.

Other than the tables and chairs, there was no other furniture.

As he shuffled into one of the two lines forming for food, Lucas eyed the inmates who were already eating.

Plastic utensils. Plastic trays. Plastic cups. Though any of these could turn into a weapon, if used correctly, they were definitely a better call than anything metal.

The men themselves were divided into various crews. It was easy to pick out those that ruled from the bottom feeders. The kings took food from others trays to satisfy their own hunger while those that served dared not say a word.

Gangs, with tattoos identifying them, sat together much like a family. They exchanged menacing glares with those they counted as opposition, yet with the number of guards patrolling, they didn't make a move.

As expected, the men that ruled within the prison, including Lucas target, were not in the room.

Shuffling a few steps forward in line, Lucas glanced at the guards.

Batons and stun guns, no live ammo. All men. The ECHO agent took in every detail. Thirteen total. They're not playing. His glanced up. Cameras at every angle.

He took the tray handed to him by an inmate whose sole job seemed to be to do so. A plastic cup was shoved in Lucas' other hand. The next moment it was his turn to hold it out.

Something that smelled like food and yet looked like dog chow, was splashed into one of the divided sections.

"Next!" the large man, a fellow inmate, bellowed.

Lucas moved to the next person only to have something like an overbaked slice of bread tossed on. It hung half into the dog chow. Lucas didn't move it.

At the next stop, he got a slice of something that looked like a slice of some sort of meat. The next spot he got a small plastic cup of grapes. With that, he was pushed toward a table where a man waited with the plastic utensils, a guard watching his every move.

After taking a knife and fork, Lucas turned to take in his seating options.

There was an abundance of free seats. His eyes turned to a particular quiet table. Every man had his head down, silently wolfing down their food. At the head sat a particular lean man, tattoos peering out from beneath his clothes and creeping up his neck. A single teardrop was tattooed under one eye.

Trouble, Lucas decided. He turned his feet in the direction.

"Nope." A hand grabbed the back of his neck.

David forcefully turned the boy away. "Trust me when I say, you do not want to sit there." He nodded to a table where the rest of the cellmates were already settling.

Lucas headed toward it without question. Looks like they don't belong to a group, he noted as he sat next to Jay. The young man was twitching while muttering incoherent words under his breath. The rest ignored him.

Will lifted a fork of the dog chow and watched it drip back to his tray. "Another day of crap," he announced.

Harvey took a sniff. "Not burnt." Satisfied, he shoved a forkful into his mouth. He grimaced but chewed and swallowed anyway.

"Can't they at least cook something decent?" Harvey muttered.

"We're behind bars, not in a five-star hotel," David reminded. He turned to Jay. "Eat."

"I'm not hungry," the twitching man replied, eyes narrowing as he stared into the distance.

Wordlessly, Lucas took a bite of the meat-like food. The taste didn't matter to him. Food was food. Its purpose was to fill his stomach and provide nutrients, nothing else.

As his cellmates chatted, Lucas waited patiently. He'd already decided on his plan, he'd already picked out his victim. Now, it was just up to him to set things in motion and manipulate the prisoners into causing an uproar. Well aware that it would bring the meal time to an abrupt stop, the boy wanted to make sure to fill his stomach first.

He picked a grape, grunting in response to a question shot in his direction. Popping the fruit in his mouth, he was suddenly aware of Jay's eyes on him. Shooting him a smile, Lucas grabbed another grape. Knowing the other man watched his every move, he casually flicked the grape over his shoulder.

He didn't need to look to know it launched right toward his target. It neatly hit a burly man, sitting next to the one with the teardrop tattoo, in the back of his head.

Jay's eyes widened. However, the lack of a shout alerted Lucas that his target had simply brushed the event off as his imagination. It was something easily corrected.

Taking another grape, Lucas repeated the action while Jay opened and closed his mouth much like a fish gasping for air.

"Alright." A fist slammed on a table. "Who is it?"

Silence picked up as the burly man shot to his feet and glared around.

"Leighton?" A man next to him questioned.

"Someone's throwing those damn grapes at my head!" Leighton roared.

Glances were exchanged and the guards continued to patrol without much interest.

The man with the teardrop tattoo gave him a disapproving glare.

It did the trick of bringing Leighton back down in his chair to silently glower. The group resumed eating and voices started up again.

Lucas munched on his bread, aware that Jay was still watching.

Not enough.

The ECHO agent scraped his chair. Feeling a pair of eyes from another table on him, he made sure they saw him squish the grape and flick it – this time to the floor some distance behind. He did it twice more.

The fuse was already short. It was time to light the fire.

Jay reached for his water with shaking hands, still watching.

Making sure the other eyes were also still on him, Lucas turned his head. He met the eyes of an inmate at a table filled with rowdy men. Letting his lips curl, Lucas shot the man a sadistic grin. He raised a subtly raised a hand to his lips, ignoring the confusion that flashed through the man's eyes.

"Whoa!" the yelled echoed as an oncoming inmate slipped on the grapes cleverly placed in close proximity to each other.

Lucas continued to smile at the same inmate who turned to watch the spectacle.

The man who'd slipped recovered, but it was too late for his tray.

It arched gracefully through the air, tipping in the process.

Food rained, straight onto the burly man who'd had grapes flicked at him only moments earlier.

Tense silence took over as two fists clenched.

Lucas popped another grape in his mouth.

"That's it!" the roar was followed by a large man springing to his feet and whirling to attack the offender. It took not even a second for inmates from every side to leap in. Guards rushed forward, blowing whistles as they tried to break up the meaningless fight before it escalated.

While fists and food flew all around him, Lucas simply popped another grape into his mouth. Too easy, he thought before tipping his head at the other inmate who'd witnessed the culprit. He gave the shaking Jay a wink and then smoothly got to his feet, whirling to avoid the man that crashed into his table.

"Hey!" Will protested as his food was knocked to the side. He didn't hesitate to join the growing chaos.

Taking along his cup of grapes Lucas withdrew to the side, playing the part of a prisoner that did dare to get involved. He joined a group of prisoners, some of whom cowered and some of who chose to observe.

Guards ran around, batons flying. It was only moments before the riled-up prisoners fought back. An alarm blared, and doors slammed shut, preventing more prisoners from entering. Another door opened, and guards poured in, yelling threats at prisoners while beating others bloody with their batons.

Lucas couldn't help but admire what just a few grapes could accomplish. Then again, all he'd done was fuel and ever-present tension and give the men an excuse to attack those from opposing sides.

He shifted to the right.

Splat.

A tray of food slammed into the wall beside his head.

Another grape popped into the ECHO agent's mouth.

He admired a prisoner's uppercut as it knocked another unconscious.

Someone lifted a chair, breaking it across another's back. He was restrained by two guards before he could use any of the discarded pieces to try and stab someone. Another tried to use a knife to injure an opponent. The utensil was useless at the angle and lack of pressure. It broke, and the wielder found himself tossed to the ground and kicks reigned upon him.

As the battle continued, Jay slipped alongside Lucas.

"Evil," he muttered.

Lucas offered him a grape.

The man took it, watching the situation.

Bang!

The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

The shot worked like magic.

Men froze in every corner, eyes turning to the source, Lucas included. He almost spat out his grape in surprise.

A woman in uniform stood, feet slightly spread. A revolver was in one hand, pointed at the ceiling, where there was now a neat hole to signify that this weapon was armed.

With flaming eyes, the woman's gaze swept over the mangled mess of prisoners and guards.

"The next person to so much as makes a move will be taken to the infirmary with a bullet wound." The authority radiating from her was no joke. "Or, the morgue," she continued. "The choice is yours."

Not one guard questioned her approach, nor did they look surprised. That enough told a story of someone with enough authority to not receive question when using a gun where no was permitted.

Satisfied that no one was going to challenge her threat, the woman holstered the weapon.

"If you insist on acting like animals," she announced. "Then you will be treated as such." Her eyes skimmed over several bloodied men.

"Clean this up!" she barked. Turning on a heel, she smoothly left the room.

Lucas popped the last grape into his mouth, admiration flashing through him. Not only was this the first female he'd seen since he'd entered the prison, but the way she carried herself was admirable.

Avoid contact at all cost, Lucas filed the information. He had no doubt that if she got involved, things would turn out a whole lot more difficult.

As men were divided into groups of injured, not and those headed for the hole, Lucas found himself in a group ushered back to his cells. He and Jay were the first back. Not long after, David and Harvey followed soon after. Will was the last, lucky to escape the group headed for the hole.

He sported a black eye and a bloody lip. "Idiots," he muttered as he went straight for his bunk.

"Why can't anyone behave like a decent human in this place?" David asked with a sigh.

Lucas shrugged, feigning innocence.

"Well, there goes recess," Harvey announced as he, too, went for his bunk.

As he predicted, none of the prisoners were allowed the stretch their legs that day. There were a few books the prisoners were allowed to keep in their limited belongings, and so Lucas borrowed one from his cellmate. He skimmed through it, using it to simply pass time. Night came. Dinner was served to the cells with everyone getting a slice of bread and water as punishment to their early rampage. Showers were also refused.

Just like children, Lucas thought in response to the way the prisoners were treated.

Night came and with it sleep.

Briefly mourning the lack of his sleeping pills, Lucas lay down and gave it an attempt anyway. Per usual, the nightmares hit him hard.

He woke up, drenched in his own sweat. After that, he drifted off a few times but woke up to the ghosts of his past every time. When morning came, he felt far from rested.

At breakfast, there were several inmates from the previous day missing. While they served their time in the hole, the rest quietly ate. Lucas' target wasn't there again – it didn't bother him.

One time isn't enough, the boy told himself as he sat down to eat the breakfast most people wouldn't want to stomach. The same location will make it too obvious. He ate his soggy sandwich, ignoring the complaints coming from Will about the grub.

Shower times were split, and Lucas found he was in a group schedule after breakfast for the day. When his number was called, he deposited his empty tray and got into the line of men headed for the shower room.

Seeing the man who'd witnessed his work the day before, Lucas couldn't help but have the corner of his mouth twitch into the subtlest of smiles. As always, luck was on his side.

The men marched to the shower room. As they entered, each was handed the smallest of towels and a bar of soap. Guards were stationed both at the doors and inside the changing room.

As men all around him began to strip, Lucas followed their lead. He wasn't worried about the fake tattoos. They'd been applied to last for a good while. As long as he didn't scrub too enthusiastically, they'd hold up for the duration of his planned stay.

Men stripped and clothes were tossed to the cold tiled floor, revealing brightly colored skin below. The inmates without a tattoo were the ones that stuck out like a sore thumb. Most had pictures telling different stories etched into their skin, others threatening words or ones with personal meanings.

Lucas' own work of art fit right in. His visible scares drew some attention as for someone his age, he had a good amount. He saw several glances shot his way yet did nothing to show any care. This type of attention could only aid him in his plan.

The men were ushered to the showers. They were community style, placed so close to each other that shoulders were almost touching with the occasional broad ones actually doing so. There were just enough shower heads for each prisoner to get one.

"Five minutes!" A guard yelled. His turned a key and his hand descended on a button.

Coldwater shot out from the showers.

Lucas barely winced, soap in his hands already moving as he made the most of his time. In his mind, he was counting down the seconds, making sure to keep track of time.

There was nothing but the sound of splashing water as the men scrubbed. If it was always like this, or everyone was being extra cautious since the last day, Lucas couldn't tell.

As the countdown reached a minute. Lucas caught the eyes of his neighbor. It was the same man who'd seen the grape incident. Maintaining eye contact, Lucas lifted the soap and bit off a large chunk. He shot the confused man a soapy smile before hiding the bitter piece behind closed lips. The last thirty seconds were spent erasing the evidence of his crime by smoothing the soap.

His confused neighbor simply shook his head and returned to the task at hand.

Without shampoo, most men simply used the soap on their heads. Most were done when the water shut itself off, but several unlucky ones found themselves with soapy hair and bodies. No mercy was given as the group of men was herded back to the changing room.

Despite the burning in his mouth, Lucas didn't show so much of a hint at what he held inside. His expression remained natural all while drying himself and getting dressed. As the prisoners left, they had to deposit the towels and soap into separate buckets. A guard counted. The reduced size of Lucas' bar wasn't noticed.

It wasn't until he was back in his cell that Lucas got rid of the bitterness in his mouth. He hid it within his pillowcase. The taste in his mouth was uncomfortable enough to send him to the open bathroom he and his roommates shared. He pretended to take a piss, after which he washed his hand and rinsed out his mouth several times. It did little to lessen the strong taste, but it was enough to help it disperse sooner at a later point.

Lucas went back to his bunk and waited.

His cellmates paid him little attention.

David read a book, seeming engrossed as he thumped through one page after the other.

Harvey wrote a letter with a blunt pencil he'd somehow gotten a hold of.

Will worked out in a corner, well into a round of pushups.

Jay sat wrapped in blankets on his bunk. He shivered but sweat dripped down his face. His glazed eyes stayed glued to Lucas, though if they actually saw him or hallucinations, Lucas didn't bother to try and guess.

A baton whacked against the cell.

"Woodshop," the guard announced,

David and Harvey dropped what they were doing. They waited patiently as they were both given a pat down and then lead from the cell. Will continued to work out.

It wasn't much later that the cells being released for recreation were called. His among them, Lucas slipped the soap into the side of his shoe, taking care not to crush it.

"Looks like the others lucked out," Will referred to their cellmates at woodshop. He shot a look at the shivering Jay who'd laid down and closed his eyes. "Druggie. It's time for fresh air."

There was no reply. He didn't try again.

Their cell opened automatically as a loud beep sounded. Lucas followed his cellmate in stepped out and waiting in front of it. Guards walked up and down, making sure each opened cell was empty.

Jay was mercilessly dragged from his feverish sleep. The man struggled weakly against the guard that forced him to stand beside the others.

"Shouldn't he go to the sickbay?" Will questioned.

"He should have thought of that before taking anything," the guard scoffed.

Without everyone out, the inmates were ordered to line up. They marched for the outside, their steps lighter than before.

They were released in the area Lucas had seen when he'd first come. Walls and fences patrolled by dogs and guards surrounded the one area prisoners could get fresh air.

Those already on recess were doing various activities. Some played basketball to one side, using a beat-up ball on an ever more beat up box serving as a hoop. A few ran laps, seeming to focus on fitness. Some just walked, talking as they did so, and others just sat, enjoying the air.

"Ah." Will stretched. "I'm feeling lucky today." He headed straight for the basketball area.

Lucas' eyes swept the area as he searched for his next target.

A pair of hands grabbed a hold of his arm. He glanced over to see a glazed-eyed Jay clinging to him.

"Let go." Lucas tried to shake him off.

The man shook his head much like a child, refusing to obey.

Lucas eyed him. He halfheartedly tried to pull away again, but the man was stuck to him like glue. With a sigh, Lucas walked to the side. He stood there, Jay hanging from him. Ignoring the baggage, the young agent took in the guards. Out here, there were even snipers on the roof. No inmate would easily start anything.

If they won't start anything, Lucas felt the soap in his shoe. Then what about the guards?

There were a few within the area, walking among the prisoners that kept a large distance from them.

A familiar par of eyes caught his. Lucas held the gaze of the man that had watched him take the soap. The young operative cocked his head to the side. Again, it seemed that luck was on his side.

His gaze grazed over the others present. The man with the teardrop tattoo was also there, the crew who ate with him lounging around him at a respectable distance. And then there was one more person that caught Lucas' attention – the man who'd catcalled him the day he'd entered, threatening to see him on the inside. So far, it seemed like that same prisoner hadn't been made aware of Lucas' presence.

The ECHO agent considered his options for the next victim of his plan. His eyes flickered from the three options. The man with the teardrop, a guard, or the one who'd called him honeybuns. All three of them could aid his plan if done right. But all three could also have backlashes. Whichever he chose, they needed to make a big enough splash to make makes the rumors fly and get him in contact with the target.

With a shivering and delusional addict hanging from one arm, and dangerous men looking all around, Lucas considered with the target he would choose to bring more chaos to the area.

Options:

A) Go for the guy who called him out when he first entered. See it as a little form of revenge.

B) The guy with the teardrop tattoo, he looks influential enough for rumors with anything involving him to spread. He's also been in the middle once, a second time will make people pay more attention to the situation,

C) Get a guard involved. Riling up prisoners is too easy, getting a guard will make a bigger splash.