[How is she twisting him around like this? Despite himself a low rumble starts in Beckett's chest. Animal. Dangerous. If he had something in front of him right now to let the Beast out on he'd have gone for it. But he's stuck speaking to the damn girl through a damn machine. It's insufferable.]

You think you know who and what I am because you've seen me here? That all I ever was is the pathetic wreck that's attached himself to you like you can give him absolution? I've lived centuries, and killed hundreds! [And that won't change in a few days' time, which right now is a relished thought.] You only like to ignore it, because what does loving a monster make you?