[He holds back a, 'fuck you' -- not because he doesn't feel it, or anything. He'd really like to not feel it, to not be this angry and mistrusting. He settles instead for,] You can't know that.
[He can't. And even if he could, Cliff would see his mother and brother again, yes, but... Does he know what to do with himself anymore without Oscar? Without Coco? He gone through losing them already in ways -- Oscar leaving when he said he wasn't going to, Coco with a knife in her back and falling, his strength failing him when he needed to carry Oscar to somewhere he could have any chance of surviving because he needed help, and Cliff needed to help him. They both helped more than he was worth, and they'd disagree with that.
He lifts his head, stubbornly drying his face and trying to get it back together. His determination to keep his voice from becoming an unsteady croak means that his speech is sharper than usual -- biting.]
And if you could, what? You get sent to Hell again because of me? I can't do that.
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[He can't. And even if he could, Cliff would see his mother and brother again, yes, but... Does he know what to do with himself anymore without Oscar? Without Coco? He gone through losing them already in ways -- Oscar leaving when he said he wasn't going to, Coco with a knife in her back and falling, his strength failing him when he needed to carry Oscar to somewhere he could have any chance of surviving because he needed help, and Cliff needed to help him. They both helped more than he was worth, and they'd disagree with that.
He lifts his head, stubbornly drying his face and trying to get it back together. His determination to keep his voice from becoming an unsteady croak means that his speech is sharper than usual -- biting.]
And if you could, what? You get sent to Hell again because of me? I can't do that.