Raw

Gunner really doesn't respond much to Hope. He didn't know what she wanted from him. He could say things were great here, but that wasn't true. He could say he got to stay up whenever he wanted, but that wasn't true either.

Opening his mouth, he stops, feeling Bree's pat to his nervous leg. Lifting his eyebrows, he listens, then watches for Hope's reaction, curious. He can see she's a bit confused, and that she shifts gears just a little.

Cocking his head, he shows a bit of amusement by the quirk in his mouth, and he taps Bree's foot with his own, under the table to thank her.

"Thank you for caring, Dr. Garrison." He was a little peeved, but he knew that having people who cared was good. There may have been a break in topics, but he remembered everything she'd said. "Food tastes like crap on cardboard. And I get locked in my room by eight."

His eyes hold a dimness... a lack of life. "Look..." He sighs deeply. "You know you don't have to beat around the bush with me, and you know I don't play games with you. I hate it here and I hate myself. I'm depressed and all I feel is emptiness. If they let me go now, I'd probably go find some creative way to get it all over with again because I really don't know how to live with myself right now."

He shrugs lamely. "I'm embarrassed that I'm here, and all I feel when I lay down at night is guilt. All I've done all my life was a total waste, and I still don't even know who I was before the accident. Maybe I don't even want to know any more."

Gunner picks at the corner of one of the puzzle books. It was getting harder to not be bothered by the raw truth he always spoke. His eyes lower for a moment before he glances to Bree, not knowing what she thought of all this, then back to Hope. "If you could get me a room with a window, it might make this more bearable, but... I really don't see how I can "get better" when all I do is play petty mind games with the local shrink."