"No," he said quickly. "But it'd make a lot of people feel better if I was." Like your boyfriend went unsaid. "And it's not like I can do anything around here anyway. Just-- sit around and wait for everybody else to cure me, or solve all my problems for me, or experiment on me, or drag me out back and shoot me."

The wind seemed to have gone from his sails, and he was more dejected than angry now, sinking down to sit in the grass and still refusing to look at Claire.