"I feel it inside me still. Now I have to rid myself of it again. And I don't know if I can do it, John." John, she calls him.
"Well, is there anything I can do to help? Aw, c'mon, there must be something. I mean, even if it just means being a good listener." Second thing.
John rises, to touch her, and she lashes out again. He flinches and jumps, grabbing his wounded hand. First soldier down.
"No one can help me."
She recovers herself, horrified, apologizes. Goes running. And John stares after.