It wasn't rhetorical, he wanted an answer to his question, and I had to give it. I didn't quite understand where he was coming from still, as I didn't see what he did. I wasn't quite confident in my will to live, he was right, but I had decided to go on still, to complete my task, I wanted to complete my task.
As for my fear of death, what it meant then is not what it meant in the present, back then it meant starting over, more pain. In the moment, it meant sleep, sleep until I recovered, sleep until my broken body drew itself back together.
I no longer knew death, at least, I had seen nothing that could prove a threat, so why was I supposed to be afraid of it. I wasn't even afraid to confront death, not afraid of the pain. He was wrong, but he couldn't see that, not even with his empty eyes.
