Damn, how he wished to have a beer in hand, instead of that cold soda. He needed some strong shot to get his inner fury down. Six months later and Paul still felt stuck with the same torturing thoughts about Sara; thoughts that became more frequent with every meeting he got with her. What was it that got him so freaking fixated on that woman? Despite all her anger, the dagger looks, the defensive body language she cast at him, Paul's feelings were still intact and that was really getting on his nerves.
It seemed intangibly harmless the first year ensuing his faked death, three minutes every day was all he gave up to linger in the memory of her features, her voice, covering up his feelings by what he thought was deep care and sympathy, maybe pity…
But the second year everything got worse, three minute became three hours and every time he sat down for a talk with any woman, he had wondered what it would be like with Sara, if in another life she would have hung out with him, laughed and joked with him like she had when he pretended to be Lance. That recurring fantasy freaked the hell out of him and the harder he fought it, the stronger it pushed its way back in.
Paul Kellerman had never been a man of fear, or feelings, period. He was a man of action, a soldier, doing things that got to be done for the good of everyone. When he had decided to take a clean slate, he was set on keeping true to himself, without all the murders or harm in the process. He would move forward, fix what he had done and help the best he could, devoid of any personal commitment. In fact the closest thing to commitment he got was trying to renew his brotherly role with Kristine who assured him that it was better late than never in being part of her life.
Concerning the ladies, there was nothing more relaxing to him than women's warmth and company, those who knew his boundaries, that didn't ask or expect any kind of relationship with him. It stung at the sheer remembrance of how frustrating it got to think of her when he was in their company. To picture her big brown eyes when he was on top of some random woman looking up at him with lustful awe, during those moments, Paul knew and was terrified to even spell it in mind, that his feelings for Sara were everything but simple sympathy. He wanted her, he needed her in his life and to be part of hers, he needed the proximity and the fact that she was with Scofield didn't change a damn thing, he could do anything, be anything to her as long as he could see her again, often if it would be possible. Most importantly, he needed her forgiveness.
His help in retrieving Scylla and bringing down the company was for the benefit of the country and everything he stood for, yet the moment the people he worked with decided to contact Scofield he was the first to volunteer in doing the task, the job came first, for sure and so did their mission but part of him kept hope in making their exoneration happen, do something at last to earn their trust. He considered he deserved it after all those years spent in hiding, trying to bring some change…
He could never forget that day, when everything was finally over, they got Scylla to the United Nations, and every single person who worked hard in taking it from the company got their deserved freedom. And so did she. Seeing her after all this time, it felt odd, somehow it had not the troubling effect he thought it would, though the look she gave him reminded him of the reality of things. One look and he knew, he could feel it, the mistrust, the awkwardness, the blame. There was no words exchanged, just a simple look before she retreated to Scofield's embrace. Right then and there Paul did what he does best, cut off every feeling and emotion inside of him, shoving everything to the back of his mind and only keeping his peaceful professional face to address Mahone and Borrows…
"Paul…Paul" The voice of his sister finally drew his attention to the present.
"Yes, Kristine…I'm sorry" He murmured, looking up at his sister that stood by the cafeteria table he sat at, she looked far more exhausted than the last time he has seen her. Life was getting on their way again, they could hardly meet up without planning it days in advance since her shifts at the hospital turned to full time working hours and his newly taken position as a congressman barely gave him time for himself.
She put down the tray and smiled amusedly, taking a seat opposite him. "What's going on up in there?" she spoke and went on with her joke, "is it the reason that brought you this time?"
He retorted playfully, "Really? Why am I here?"
"It's okay to ask how she's doing, Paul," She told him in an understanding tone.
"What are you talking about?" He hurried to say with nonchalance. "I came to see how you're doing… thinking you'd be glad to see your brother after his three months of leave" his pretence of upset brought a little laugh out of her. "You know I am happy you're here…About Sara, don't even try to hide it, your face lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of her name every time" Kristine let out with a full smile.
There was only one person that would get away with a joke like that and that was no other than his little sister. She was the closest connection Paul got to his real self and identity. She knew him, the real him, inside and out, his every weakness and strength, the very core of Paul was laid bare to her and the biggest part of him was grateful for it, she was his family, the one person he didn't have to put up a face around and that alone made him at great ease.
"Please don't start with that… I'm trying to help her out, I left the woman to die in a bathtub remember?" He spoke matter-of-factly, chewing on a morsel of food he took from her plate "Had to make up for that, didn't I?"
Kristine stayed silent, eating quietly while staring him in the eye expectantly.
"Alright…" He sighed, giving up "I do want to know how she's doing"
"Well, her medical checkup last week showed the baby's fine, her pregnancy is going as normally as possible. Apart from low blood pressure caused by lack of sleep, she's as healthy as ever" Paul nodded and lowered his eyes "that's good news"
Kristine observed his blank face for a moment than told him "For what it's worth." She began "She's been very civil to me, and didn't mind me at all being her doctor, despite her knowing that I'm your sister."
Paul's face showed a hint of pain before he swept it off, saying with sarcasm "Gee, thanks"
"I meant, it's a positive sign… one thing Sara proved is that she doesn't hate you" she took in his low snort of mockery and corrected "not anymore"
"What are you like best friends now?" his half way smile made her shake her head "will be someday hopefully…I'd like to know better the woman my brother's in lo-"
"Don't…ever say that" he cut her off in a sharp threatening tone "I'm serious K…"
She laughed out her words "okay…touchy"
He answered her rapidly "Don't be ridiculous, it's just an impression you have…you gotta know, this Paul never falls"
"Like…ever?" she questioned with a curious look.
"Positive." He nodded once.
The sound of her beeper signaling an emergency at the E.R put an end to their talk and as soon as she left the table Paul felt the stinging effect of his sister's words, the last word that would come to his lips when he thought of Sara was the L word. That was the forbidden letters, the banished sensation that he had restrained himself to ever think of since Caroline Reynolds and he was not about to experience that again, ever in his life.

...

A bubble bath; it was so not her thing, definitely not her thing, especially since that traumatic experience with a bathtub, but yet again, everything she came to enjoy during this pregnancy wasn't like her, for example eating chocolate sauce with pickles, or whipped cream on her pizza. Without a second thought, Sara stepped into the bathtub, intending to finish her day in a bubble-soaked relaxation.
Submerged up to her chin, she closed her eyes and rested her hands on her rounded belly, trying to focus on one thing: The baby. It had been kicking a lot lately; this brought a smile to her lips, he was just starting to feel so alive already. He, she'd finally gotten the confirmation, not that it would have made a difference to her, whether the baby was a boy or a girl, only, she wasn't sure why, this way he felt closer to Michael somehow, he was his son, their son. She had picked a name, the only name she believed would suit: M.J. Michael Junior would be perfect. It felt right, more than right even. She could tell he would resemble his father in so many ways. It was a thrill like no other to see him during the ultra sound, every time it got better; she could witness his growth monthly, hear the beat of his heart, saw his lungs, his hands and feet, ten fingers, ten toes, perfect in every way, the start of his very face was beginning to show on the ultra-sound too, and it felt so huge to take in all by herself, so beautiful it felt like a waste to not have someone to share it with. She only wished Michael was there, with her to see it all, but he wasn't.
She couldn't help try to picture her baby's features, would he have her eyes, or Michael's? She could already see the big blue eyes of that baby boy, so perfect beautiful eyes, she sure wished he would inherit his father's genius… this took her back to the past, to the memory of her dead husband, that gave up his life in a heroic act. She'd never like heroes, god, they were so foolish, always sacrificing themselves for the world, or for a girl, and the worst part was how they were always so tormented and remorseful, as if the weight of the whole world was on their shoulders, and god she recognized Michael in this description, she recognized him all too well. To this day she still tried to cope, to get over her blameful emotions towards him. Working on it wasn't getting any easier.
So, she chose to remember him lovingly just this once, to set her heart on love, sometimes it was more soothing and peaceful to not think of the harsh feelings or lies, just the way they had been together, the way she had loved him, it felt quiet, warm and comforting, to just think of the way he looked, the gentle way they kissed, she sighed deeply letting the image of Michael come to her for a split second, his figure, his smile, his beautiful gaze before it was swept off by another gaze out of a sudden, of someone that brought her most terrible anxious feelings up to the surface, the kind that blazed at you and held you at his mercy.
Her eyes shot back open, as she involuntarily rose in her bath in a gasp; really? She was actually thinking of him, now, of all moments, really?! A mixture of upset and frustration spread in her instantly, she should be clearing out her head, reminiscing only the good things in her life, not dealing with unwelcome recurring images of Paul Kellerman of whom she helplessly felt disapproval. Unluckily, this was happening more often than she liked. She was confident that there was a simple explanation for this, no other than his presence in her life for the past six months; he was there in every conversation she had with the others which deeply disturbed her but couldn't say a thing about. After all he was 'the help'. Wanting to escape him had become an innate feeling, yet thoughts of him unwillingly kicked in every day in his absent. And this she hated. He was supposed to be her enemy, not act as a friend. The more he did, the deeper an old cut she had covered spread open. She never got over his betrayal, that's what kept her scorn towards him active to this day. She still couldn't forgive him for making her so comfortable around him. For getting her to like him, or at least a fake image of him to only try to kill her ruthlessly afterwards. She didn't care if it was an order, she didn't care if it was his job, he could have disobeyed, there's always a choice, another option. He'd chosen and if she had meant anything to him, if he had felt as a friend to her for once – he would have chosen differently, it was as simple as that.
Sara exhaled deeply, calming her nerves; she shouldn't be in this state about somebody who wasn't worth the pain-she thought. Anger wasn't good for the baby, and the last thing she would do is let Paul Kellerman invade her thoughts like that, or make her feel pain again. No, she wouldn't let him have this hold on her, pain would mean feelings, and feelings, resentment towards him would mean she cared. This she would never accept, she couldn't let herself care one bit about anything Paul had said or done.
She probably would have been ice cold to his sister from day one if she had known who she was, but of course, Lincoln and Sophia had done it again, they hid Kristine's identity from her, only saying this was the doctor sympathetic to her cause. It changed everything, she grew onto Sara, she even became a friend since she reminded Sara much of herself back when she was a doctor.
However, the shock of the news would remain in Sara's memory forever. She was certain of that. It was the time Sara asked how Kristine got involved in this matter, it appeared even Kristine was kept in the dark and didn't know of Sara's ignorance of her kinship to Kellerman.
"It was Paul, the way he talked about you. I've never seen my brother so… committed. He took care to explain everything and I just knew he couldn't be wrong about this. Besides, I would have been offended if he chose any other doctor over his little sis." She had said, causing the blood to drain from Sara's face. Sara had remained silent, didn't utter a word after that, until Lincoln showed up on his own one night, giving her the chance to erupt like a volcano at him, berating him for his continuous little secrets that went on all through her pregnancy.
He wasn't alone to blame, there was also Paul, but he had reason to hide it, it surprised her that his sister was a doctor, that he had a sister at all, a loner, and previous assassin. Seeing this part of him was awkwardly refreshing, it brought her mind back to the times she had talks with him, back when he was Lance…
Sara scoffed; there she goes again, thinking of him. It felt wrong, upsetting and damn…scary. It was a different kind of fear, this time; it was an emotional one, as if he was pushing his way back into her trust to better deceive her again, of course, something rational inside of her told her he wouldn't, he had no further reason to, but then, if she trusted him again, it just made her a fool.
Why on earth was she even considering this option? Kellerman would never earn her trust again, that was a fatality he would have to accept no matter what. Once they would be done and she would walk free again, the best thank you she would offer him is that piece of pie he sarcastically said they'd share together at the end of the line. Yes, that was her plan on a good ironic revenge on him. That's all he deserved in her book, and that's all he would get.

She rose from the bubble bath slightly when the sound of a doorbell rang from downstairs. She froze, just for a second, her brows furrowed slightly. Lincoln? He had a key, why would he ring the doorbell? Curiosity won over her and she exited the bath, wrapping a white bathrobe over her naked body, the fabric embracing her seven-months-pregnant-baby-bump, as she combed her fingers with her damp hair, that had moistened and clung to her neck even though she'd try to keep it dry from the water.

She walked downstairs, headed for the entry door and opened. It didn't occur to her until after she'd opened it that maybe she should have checked through the window who was at the door before she opened it, but it was a little late for that now.

Her mouth opened in the beginning of a protest but no sound came out. This couldn't be right, this was probably just one of her nightmares when he rang the doorbell and struck forcefully before she could react – except she usually always woke up to that critical moment, and he wasn't attacking, so far just looking at her, standing on her doormat, looking about as surprised as she did.

It wasn't as though he had never been into her house, he'd been there before, for meetings, with Lincoln and Sofia, with days of preparation, he'd never stopped by uninvited for no reason. Which he had, of course, he had a perfectly good explanation which he was about to serve her right about now.

"Paul?" She said, because clearly he wasn't going to talk.

He opened his mouth, but suddenly the very appropriate well prepared excuse he actually rehearsed on his way here was out of his mind and unreachable.

"I just…" He uttered, "I thought…"

Nope, he was getting nowhere here, and she was upset, she looked upset, and all he could do was mumble and get confused with his words, and the look on her face send him the message that he should start explaining some time soon.

"What are you doing?" She inquired, she could have tried to sound angry, but she only managed sheer curiosity.

Well that was a freaking good question, he thought about it for a second, answering in his mind only "I have no idea."