Rick Grimes: [the RV has stopped] We'll be back on the road soon.Jim: Oh no. Christ. My bones, my bones are like glass: every little bump. God, this ride is killing me. Leave me here: I'm done. Just leave me. I want to be with my family.Rick Grimes: They're all dead. I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever; you've been delirious more often than not.Jim: I know, don't you think I know? I'm clear now. In five minutes I may not be. Rick, I know what I'm asking: I want this. Leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision. Not your failure.
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