Eliot was glad to see Buffy was feeling better. He was still pissed but that anger was coiled and tightly controlled, rage and violence, The Black Knight as he'd once named that monster inside him, was sleeping again.
And he was glad she'd stopped crying. He hated to see girls cry, especially those he cared about.
He answered Buffy's question with a slow nod, hesitating before adding. "A bit out of it? It's been a long time since I've been triggered. It doesn't just knock me outta action, kinda keeps me there a bit." He shook his head, trying to physically shake off the last of the... whatever. "'m gonna ask you not tell anyone 'bout that. The last thing I need people knowin' is I've got behavioral modification trainnin' that can take me out of action that easily."
It hadn't been until years after the fact that Eliot had learned the methods Samuel used were behavioral modification, or at least a somewhat extreme version of it. He understood how it worked, academic and first hand knowledge combining but still never enough for him to learn how to break it.
Yeah, there were no physical wounds but old mental ones had been refreshed. Even if he didn't say anything the tension in his body at her touch and close proximity did more than suggest there was something wrong.
Never the less he let her nudge him out of the bathroom. Right now he was beginging to get this driving need to just be *outside*. Sunlight would help dispel his old ghosts just as he'd hoped it would dispel hers.