Eva looks like he reached through the bars and slapped her with those words. For a moment, her eyes narrow as if she's been insulted, but really, who is she to argue? Of course she's troubled. If her current appearance didn't speak to that, the fact that she willingly, enthusiastically mutilated another living person with her bare hands should.
"I don't need help," she snarls, backing up to the corner of her cot. "I need to stay away from those sorts of situations, but I'm not going to be helped by some overqualified dream analyzer sitting me down in a corner and telling me what to think. What I can think is the only thing I have left."
And even that's warped. They left her with nothing. They stole her face, her life, her place, her family, and at the end of the day what she has left is a broken family, a body that feels like someone else's discarded clothing, and a mind that doesn't work right anymore.
And Daniel, so like Peter, is there to tell her she needs help like this untouchable angel of reason from on high. She wants none of it. She wants none of their pity. They'll shuffle her off in a corner because she's an unpleasant reality, leave her to do all the work on some shrink's couch, ignore the problem, ignore it even more than she ignores it.
Deep down, she knows she's being paranoid and irrational. She just doesn't care. The implication she needs help makes her want to reach through the bars and slap Daniel, no matter how much she knows it's the truth.
no subject
"I don't need help," she snarls, backing up to the corner of her cot. "I need to stay away from those sorts of situations, but I'm not going to be helped by some overqualified dream analyzer sitting me down in a corner and telling me what to think. What I can think is the only thing I have left."
And even that's warped. They left her with nothing. They stole her face, her life, her place, her family, and at the end of the day what she has left is a broken family, a body that feels like someone else's discarded clothing, and a mind that doesn't work right anymore.
And Daniel, so like Peter, is there to tell her she needs help like this untouchable angel of reason from on high. She wants none of it. She wants none of their pity. They'll shuffle her off in a corner because she's an unpleasant reality, leave her to do all the work on some shrink's couch, ignore the problem, ignore it even more than she ignores it.
Deep down, she knows she's being paranoid and irrational. She just doesn't care. The implication she needs help makes her want to reach through the bars and slap Daniel, no matter how much she knows it's the truth.