Wyatt: Claire? Claire? Talk to me. What is it, Claire?
Claire: Stop trying to help me.
Wyatt: I’m just trying to do right by you.
Claire: I can’t even look at you. This whole good man act. You know I used to go through our trash when I was a kid? I used to count the number of empties to make sure you weren’t going to die. I was 10 years old, and I would get into bed terrified, thinking, maybe I missed a cue or something, and that when I woke up, you’d be gone. What, now I’m supposed to watch you thrive? Knowing that you could beat it, you just couldn’t do it for me.
Wyatt: Claire, I wish I could go back. I would give anything to be able to…
Claire: I have spent my entire life running from you, trying to feel safe. I… I wanted to help kids that were like me and give them what… what I never got, and somehow I’ve hurt everyone, and I’ve fucked everything up, and I don’t know how to fix it, and I’m such a fucking horrible person.
Wyatt: You are gonna find a way to keep going, I promise you.
Claire: I don’t want to be here. Everybody wants me gone. I just want to be fucking gone.
Wyatt: I know. I know it feels that way, but you got to stay. You gotta stay. You gotta.