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He softly nodded. He had heard of this before in literature and history books. A mother smothering a crying child to prevent being caught by a nearby enemy. To them, it was either smother it or spend the rest of one's life in a prison camp or dead themselves, not to mention those around them. But was that the reason? There was no real therapy to rid one of guilt. Simply, it was something people had to learn to live with. Doc himself knew this from his own past.
He sat slightly closer, within an arm's reach. He didn't want a mental issue to turn into a medical one with her hard breathing. "Easy, Girl, catch your breath." He gave her a minute to do so.
"The past can't be changed, Elena," he stated, "what's done is done. What we can do is cope with it, to live with it, to learn from it no matter how grisly something was. Remember this, I'm here to help as best I can, not judge." He gave another soft nod, "I wasn't always a saint myself." After a few seconds of a pause, he just told her, "Now look up at me. Don't be ashamed."
