[The idea of Bourne ever getting any sleep with a screaming rat in the room was laughable. As soon as David gets annoying enough to wake him up - which is as soon as he says 'You like what you see' - he sits bolt upright, throws off the covers, and strides off to the cage, picking it up. He stares down the rat with the icy, dark-circled glare that only a tortured assassin suffering from sleep deprivation can give.]

That's enough.

[His voice is a low, menacing whisper, but it's perfectly audible to the rat. He picks up the cover with his other hand, and carries the rat into the small bathroom, tucking the cage into the furthest corner of the room from the bed. He unceremoniously throws the cover back on the cage, and slams the door shut as he stalks out of the bathroom.

When he gets back into the bedroom, he sits in his chair and puts his head in his hands. If Claire listens closely, she can hear him:]

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking inmate, fucking rat, fuck, fuck, fuck...