Thanks for the reviews guys :) This is the second (and last) part. Again, any reviews are much appreciated.

She knew she should be savouring these moments, the most freedom she was going to get for the rest of her life was what she was getting right now, chained to a seat in an airplane, listening to the petty squabbles and inane chatter of strangers. But she couldn't savour them, couldn't enjoy them, her mind wouldn't let her. The touch of the cuffs, the metal warmed by the heat of her skin, reminded her of what was coming, and she was terrified. She didn't do well in captivity, and whilst she could pretend that she was still free, could cling to the illusion she had created, she knew full well that she wasn't, she was never going to be.

On one side of her sat the marshal who had made it his job to hunt her down, on the other the world she could never be part of. She didn't want to look at either. The marshal and his sly, harsh words ate at her, confirming her worthlessness, her guilt. But that stung a lot less than watching the world going past, a world she had left behind when she had killed Wayne. She never questioned for an instant that she would be found guilty for killing him, she felt guilty, she had done ever since she'd seen the horror in her mother's eyes and realised what it actually was that she had done.

So she kept her eyes forward, staring at the seat back, her hands resting in her lap, leaning slightly to one side to avoid the warmth of the marshal's body, still feeling it creeping across her skin. But the marshal had much more with which he could torment her than his warmth.

His eyes seared at her face, taking in every aspect of her, the soft curl in her hair, the smattering of freckles across her cheeks, the terrified look of a cornered animal in her eyes. He enjoyed, enjoyed having her in his power. He knew what she was capable of, had experienced it first hand, and he knew how much being stuck in a tin can 50,000 feet up in the air was bothering her. He intended to make the most of it, because he knew, far better than she did, that she wouldn't allow herself to be locked up, she couldn't handle it.

His voice was soft when he uttered the words he knew would shatter her confident indifference, force her eyes to his. "Did they tell you, about Sam?" He knew that they had, he was the one who'd told them to, but her reaction was priceless. Her hands clenched, her fingernails digging painfully into her palm, every muscle in her body tightened, ready to bolt, even though she knew she couldn't get away from the chains attaching her to the chair. Her head snapped round, her eyes meeting his, rewarding him with so much pain; remorse, guilt and fear where all there, but the pain was overpowering, and he couldn't stop the smile that slipped its way onto his lips. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then."

She couldn't take it any more, her blood was pounding in her head, her hands were trembling, she couldn't stay here. Her eyes scanned the plane, searching for anything, anything she could use to get out of here. Of course she knew about Sam, her father, regardless of what anyone might say. He had been the figure she had tied her sanity to, knowing that someone out there still cared about her. But that was gone now, he was gone, and she felt worse for that than she ever could about killing Wayne.

Her panic was quelled, forgotten, pushed away by what her eyes had found. No accusation, no hatred, not even any fear, just his eyes, holding hers, reassuring her, giving her hope. He was a tall man, and like any of the other men on the flight, hidden in a suit, smart and professional. But she didn't see any of that. Instead, she saw his kindness, his strength, and his own pain, as overpowering as hers was, invading every part of him.

Abruptly, she pulled her gaze away, pulling her shoulders in, letting her face drop so that her hair hid it. He wouldn't look at her like that, not if he knew who she was. That desire to help would be replaced with disgust. She was a murderer, he was a good man, he would hate her, he would have to. She didn't look up until she was certain he was gone, that she wouldn't have to see his empathy for her, knowing that she didn't deserve it. Even so, when she looked up, her eyes went to the window, watching the world underneath her. Maybe she could be a part of it, if only for a little while.