[He tenses, finally deciding to yank the knife out. He takes off his shirt, balls it up, and hisses as he yanks the knife out and presses the cloth to his thigh. The knife is dropped next to him, within reach, and it takes Cu a moment to collect himself before finally speaking]

I know it's not your fault. But you need to stop this shit, okay? I--

I want to help you, okay? I wish I could. I wish you'd fucking let me instead of stabbing me.