[He stumbles and leans against her.] ...Of course not. I'm a survivor.

[He only dreams of death. The light catches on his wrist as he tries to settle himself to reveal a faint faded scar. Straight down.]

Yeah? Mine were all about liberals. Or democrats. How many democrats does it take to balance the budget? 0 - they're stubborn like donkeys and can never agree on anything.

[What he does do is pull off his shirt revealing a large splotch of bruising and what's a clear gunshot wound. Blood drips onto the bed and he flops back onto it, bleeding.]