How ironic it was that Norman would have agreed with her sentiment entirely -- that was what he was doing, after all. Causing some pain. As much of it as he could. It was past the point of practicality, he just wanted to hear her scream. It was too bad they were on opposite sides, really. They could have worked something out. Could have, though, not would have. Norman's alliances came in second to himself, every time. If he suffered, everyone had to suffer.

The impact of Selina's knee drained the color from his face. His healing factor was already working towards sewing up his lip and gums, but it was useless in regards to the actual pain. Though he couldn't curb the yell of pain to less than a bark, it was with momentous effort he kept his knees from buckling. He made up for this indignity by slamming his free hand on the window, right on the weaving fault-lines. He could give a damn what happened to her from here on out.