[ there is no getting this lesson through his skull, is there? that how she considers it doesn't matter a whit compared to his own cracked and fractured version of things -- that regardless of how she might see him as guilty or not guilty (never innocent) it's not him and it's not her who can hold him to any verdict. in the absence of any legal structure, it's only those who were wronged who can damn him or absolve him.

and he won't even try to approach him, as peggy understands it, and perhaps it's because he doesn't want real penance at all. just like he avoids her eyes now, he avoids making direct and earnest contact with what it might really mean to be serving his time.

peggy draws a palm down her face. she looks odd enough without her usual cosmetic touches: no rouge, no lipstick, no mascara. the swollen lip and ashy complexion only serves to accentuate those differences. ]

You've got the capacity in you to do so much good. [ she sounds tired. exasperated, really, with the circular nature of these conversations. it's as though the part of her brain which carefully filters out sentimentality and warmth has been busted. try as she might, the frustration of her lecture is immediately tempered by her belief in him. ] And you achieve some. You help. Heaven knows, you've answered every call I've made.

[ and then there was that mission, the one he went radio silent for, that jemma couldn't shed any light upon. who was he helping then? ]

But so long as you're too busy looking for ways to clap yourself in irons? All you'll ever do is fall short of where you want to be.