I can remember when I decided to become a doctor. I wanted to heal people, I was disgusted with all of the pain and evil in the world and I wanted to do what I could to make it better. When I started my first practice, I thought I had made it; that I was finally part of the solution.
I’ll be honest, I’ve killed before. The end of the world is a great way to end naivete. But they all had guns, or were trying to kill me, and last night I may have crossed a line. I won’t say I liked Ming, in fact I resented the fact that he clearly held back part of my past from me, but I probably didn’t need to blow out his kneecap and end him execution style in the back of his head. That may have gone too far.
But when I found out what they did, when I found out what I was…I just couldn’t take it. I know it’s against anything I ever stood for. But he had to pay. Everything is a little blurry after that; I can remember investigating where we “died.” I can also remember being attacked and getting shot. Sweet mother of Misha ever-fucking Collins did I get shot. Then it just sort of fades to black…