I...see. [No, he can't really, and it's probably written all over his confused face. You can't just be temporarily dead, you're either alive, dead or dying?]
...You're far too comfortable about it. [He picks up his cup, drinking his tea in silence. He's sure she was telling him all this to ease his own conscious, but...he thinks about his father. He still truly believes his father is innocent of the false accusation that he was a serial killer, but...there were some doubts about himself.]
I know... and that could be a sign of terrible coping abilities. [But she shrugs. She might be a doctor, but mental health? Not actually her wheelhouse. She just takes a sip of tea.]
Heh. Honestly the same could probably be said about myself. [But he's managed all these years, despite knowing it's not his best approach to everything. Even after all this time they've been here, he still can't bring himself to really trust anyone. Maybe not even himself at this point.]
Thank you for the tea. [He sets down his now empty cup.] And...the talk, I suppose.
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But you survived in the end, that's good.
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Right. So, again, our act was nothing unfamiliar.
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Thank you for the tea. [He sets down his now empty cup.] And...the talk, I suppose.
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... You're welcome. I'll see you around, but don't be a stranger either.