[ He pulls his hand back, though, afraid of it. Afraid of the stomach that hasn't started to swell. Because, unsteadily, he says - ]

You can't tear anyone to pieces if you're dead in a hospital bed.

[ And there's something raw, something honest, something desperate in his voice when he confesses: ]

I - cannot stand the thought of you dead. I cannot stand the thought of you hurting, my Lakshmi.