[Butcher is recovering in the hospital and sees Kessler standing by his bedside]
You know, if you need any help…
I don’t need your help.
Really? Seems to me you're shitting in a bedpan and days away from being planted. And what do you have to show for it? I mean, Singer–He’s as good as dead. Homelander, he won. And you… you gave away the virus–the one fuckin' weapon that could’ve stopped him! But we are gonna turn that frown upside down, my friend. You know why? ‘Cause you still have me.
You ain’t even fuckin' real.
Well, now, that’s an interesting philosophical question. See, what is real are the fucking V’d up tumors that are mushrooming inside your guts and noggin. Super cancer! What is real is that piece of you that wants to burn every fucking Supe on Earth. How is it you think you ripped Ezekiel into fun-sized little chunks? I’m the one that gave you the juice that you needed, and I can do it again. All you have to do… is hold up your end of the bargain.
Bargain? What fuckin' bargain?
We go all the way. I mean, come on, champ. What’s a little genocide between friends?
Just fuck off and let me die in peace, would you?
Wish I could.
[Kessler disappears when Mallory walks into Butcher's hospital room]
Since you’re here… [takes out a cigarette] be a doll and fetch us a pint, would ya? [Mallory rolls her eyes at him] Come on, don’t be a cunt. I’m fuckin' dyin' here.
Your dying’s been pretty high on my wish list lately.
I appreciate what you’re doin' here for me.
Not one bit of this is for you.
Alright, then. Give us me phone. We got work to do.
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