"You..."  Doc might have been willing to listen, understand that she was an investment, that he was sticking his nose in too far.  That all went out the window, though, when they told him that she had undergone SURGE by<em>their</em>design.  Which meant that she had been normal before she'd gotten grabbed off of the street.  "You<strong><em>WHAT?!</em></strong>"  Doc's finger twitched once in his rage, and the shot buried itself in the wall behind her.  "Do you have<em>any idea</em>of what you've done?!  That's not something to be proud of!"  They didn't understand.  None of them could.  This was a curse.  "Clothes.  For her.  Now.  Or the next time the trigger goes, it won't be an accident."