[Yeah, about that. Beckett feels the stab of remorse, but also a kind of sudden, choking sympathy. When she brings that up, she brings up a whole different perspective on what she's trying to do, and it's one that hits home.]

You're not the only one, [he says, gently now. Not a reproach, the opposite. You're not alone with this.]

I can't fault her, no. I understand - I know I don't have any right to. [Remembering what he had done, the last time he'd tipped over one of Norfinbury's periodic edges of desperation. Walked away. Ran away.] But I can't bear... this, either. I can't think of you back in a bunker, Angel. And that's what this would be. And you know it.