I want to work for you. I want to spend time with you. I can work with what you gave me, I can work on this arrangement, but I can't—Healin' from a severed arm still leaves you one limb short, and even a robot arm isn't going to be a true replacement.

[He tries not to rip himself apart, talking. He tries to keep steady.]

I won't fight your choice. I just fuckin' hate that you're makin' it for my sake when it's the opposite of what I want.