"I figured as much." McCoy responded, closing the cabinet again. "Hell, I'm no psychiatrist. I could tell you every damn detail they drilled into our brains about torture, mental or physical, but it probably won't do you a bit of good." He turned back to her. "You're the best judge of that. No one can help you on that front unless you accept you need the help. Maybe you just need to destroy a punching bag again, maybe you do need to talk about your father. You're not a kid." His brow quirked. "You'll figure out what you need in your own good time."