[He hasn't seemed to notice that she's moved at all, at least not yet. He shakes his head more, and it's harder and harder to avoid her eyes, but he can feel them. But he can feel Geneva, too, hear her, whispering, demanding, pleading.

He wants to swing the axe into his own head.]

No, it's not, because you can't...I know you can't see her, but she needs me. And you, and t-this. If there were other ways...but...but I don't know, I don't know...