Used. Violated.
Those are the words that came to Sara's mind as as she glared at Paul Kellerman's smug face that watched her from a few seats down. She knew Michael was watching her closely from the seat across, analyzing her fidgeting hands that wrapped around the string of her hoodie to her constantly shifting her gaze from him to the train window and back to Paul. The way her expression changed every time her eyes shifted - from looking at him with tenderness, concern, to looking passively out the window, to looking at Paul as though willing him to drop dead before her eyes..
She had trusted Paul - or rather, she had trusted Lance. Let him into her house, had dinner with him. Confided in him - alone and at AA meetings. She had basically stood completely naked in front of him, showing him parts of her that she hadn't shown anyone - not her friends, not her family, not any of her boyfriends. The only other people who she had confided to about her past struggles had been her AA group. Her father knew that she'd had a problem and went to rehab for it, but he hadn't cared enough to listen to her side of things, nor had she been ready to tell him. And yet, she had told these things to Paul. Just looking at him, his gaze resting on her, she felt like he could see right through her and into the very depths of her brain, seeing all her secrets. She pulled her hood up and twisted the string of her hoodie between her fingers in agitation.
"Sara," Michael's voice gently broke through her internal pandemonium. He tentatively laid a hand on her knee but she jerked away, startled. Quickly pulling his hand back, he looked at her, worried. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"No, it's okay," Sara replied, shaking her head. "You just caught me off guard. Sorry."
"Are you alright?" Michael asked.
Sara paused for a moment, fighting the urge to tell him the truth. She wasn't okay - she was the furthest thing from okay right now. And having Paul Kellerman in the same room as her, watching her from a few feet away was making everything so much worse. She needed to get out of there. "I'm okay. I think I just need some water," she said, starting to get up.
Michael lifted his hand to stop her and then stood up, flashing her a smile. "I'll go find some. Back in a sec."
Sara nodded, leaning back in her seat, pulling the string of her hoodie out as she watched Michael walk away. He stopped by Kellerman's seat, kicking the other man's raised legs before continuing on. When he disappeared out of the train door, she counted to ten, stood up and started walking. She wasn't at all aware of what she was doing, he legs moving of their own accord. It's like she was in a trance, except all she could see was Paul's face, the word's "My name's Lance and I'm an addict," coming out of his mouth. This was followed by him looking at her smugly, this time saying "Hi, my name's not Lance and I'm not an addict." Those two memories kept replaying in her head, over and over as her heart beat faster and faster. She passed Paul's seat and then abruptly turned around, pulling her arms over the back of his seat and using the string of her hoodie to choke him in one swift motion.
He squirmed, trying to fight against her tight grip, gasping for air. If she had been in her senses, she would've been able to tell how much longer it would take for him to die, judging by his actions but, in that moment, she couldn't think, she couldn't feel - all she could do was hold the string tighter.
A pair of strong arms was pulling her back and she could hear two voices shouting. She didn't register the voices but she felt the arms and she struggled against them. She knew they felt familiar as they wrapped around her torso and pulled her back, forcing her to let go of the string, but she didn't care. She struggled to break free, wanting to destroy Paul for violating her in the worst way possible. For taking advantage of her when Michael had left her alone and vulnerable to deal with everything that had happened. She wanted to kill him.
"Settle down. Settle down," his calm voice whispered into her ear, bringing her back. Her brain was starting to register what was happening and she grew limp with the realization of what she had been about to do. If Michael hadn't been holding onto her, she would have fallen, without a doubt. She had just tried to take a man's life. She had spent years trying to do the opposite, to save lives; and now here she was, sitting in a train with two fugitives - one of whom she was pretty sure she loved - and a rogue FBI agent who'd tortured her physically and mentally.
It was far too much. She needed to get out of there, now. Pushing Michael's arms off of her, she fled from the scene of what had almost been a murder, desperately searching for a place to be alone, wishing she could succumb to her demons once again to escape this living hell.