[Shaw carefully wipes at the blood trickling down his nose with a folded handkerchief, red quickly staining the soft, white fabric. He replaces the cloth in an inside pocket of his jacket and closes the door to Charles' cell, locking it again with a satisfying click. At least, Shaw finds it satisfying. Shaw's found every moment of this little interaction enormously satisfying.]

We all do exactly what we want every moment of the day, Charlie. Stop pretending you're so much more evolved than the rest of us. Because I guarantee you, you are not.