"Nope," and his voice was soft, far away. A little bittersweet.

"I always wished we could... enjoy things more. That you didn't have to worry about me so much. Sometimes, I think I picked more fights than I needed to just because...well," his voice dropped a little "that was what I could control. Let you get mad at me for bein' an idiot 'cause I know you couldn't get mad at me when my lungs went out or I was half dead from a cold."