You're not dead.

[he sounded more bitter than he meant to but fuck it]

You can go back. I don't want to make a life here. There's no life here. There's nothing in this place. Not even a decent ocean. There's hardly anyone I know and no one I care to see and I can't even do anything. I can't see Pops or the rest--

Tch...

I want to go home, Smoker. Who cares about here?

[and he hates that's his only option]