After finding the horrible image of her brother already dead, all beaten up and missing a finger in the trunk of that car, you were the only person she could turn to to talk about it, since she felt that he needed to vent to someone or she would become crazy — even more than she already is — plus you were the only person in the world she could trust and she knew you would never judge her.

You were in your office having a session like the ones they used to have when she was in that horrible hell called Arkham, you noticed that she began to have a reaction when reliving the memories of her brother visiting her in Arkham only this time he looked like when she found him dead, when you saw that she was starting to scream, you approached her and wrapped her in your arms, staying firm even when she hit and scratched you.

Once you calmed her down, you helped her breathe properly again.

— Don't worry, you're safe, you're safe here. — you whispered to her with a calm and soft tone looking where she was looking, she turned her face to meet your gaze and for a few moments your faces were a few centimeters away until she turned away from you and stood up.

— No, I'm not safe.