"Wow, what a surprise. You actually did something useful. I suppose now you expect a thank you? Well how about instead you get out of my house." It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for what she had done. He was simply too hard-hearted to show it. His eyes drifted away from her to the view screen, and for a moment, were anyone paying attention, they would have noticed the smallest twinge of sadness. However brief, it was quickly replaced with the same stubborn, hateful expression Charlotte had like grown quite familiar with. At that point Ethan seemed more concerned with the quickly draining bottle in his hand and the mind-numbing shit that appeared on the screen. He grumbled something incoherently, his words now in full slur.<br/><br/>In his mind, he knew he was being inappropriately mean to the girl. He knew that she had come on good faith, that she didn't have to do so, and that anyone else in her family would have just disregarded his injuries. But she made a concerted effort to seek him out and make sure he was okay. It was sweet, but needless. He didn't need anyone's help. He didn't want anyone's help. He just wanted to be left alone. Why wouldn't anyone just leave him alone? "You did yer good deed.... now get outta my house. Can't you see i'm busy?"