Hey, I'm not gonna try to stop you. But this place will bring you fucking back. I don't really give a damn if you believe me or not, but if you're gonna eat a bullet? I'd appreciate if you'd do it with your journal shut. There are kids here that don't need to hear that sort of shit.

[ She's worked up, and her nervous energy is making his hackles rise, his lips drawn back into a defensive scowl. Their sheer existence here is too much to believe, sometimes, and he gets that -- but the last thing Clementine needs is another death in earshot. ]