Tony stopped tossing the pillow, and stared at Roslyn. She was crazy, that idea was simply crazy. "Rose, you know I can't do that... If they got a hold of you, they'd use you as a play toy..." he sat up a bit, the pillow resting on his lap. "I mean, I'm not the type of person to do that... Even when I'm stuck with what rank I am now, I could never turn you in like that." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think for a moment. Biting his lip, he spoke, "Rose, I understand that you think this will help me, and it will. But I don't have the heart to do that to a friend. I don't want you to get hurt..." He was quiet for a moment, staring down at the floor and avoiding eye contact. "I'd rather run away or die than do that to a friend. You were nice enough to listen to me ramble on when we first met, despite being gang enemies. And I think it's a little too risky to do."<br/><br/>Sure, he was suffering from constant beatings and abuse, but he wasn't going to do that to a friend. He'd find a way to fight this battle on his own, even if he knew he wasn't going to win the war. At least he could try and fight on his own without those he cared about getting hurt. Even if it meant getting more wounds, more pain than he could already endure. And Tony endured a lot of things. Just look at his body, covered in cuts, scars, burns, knife wounds, even a bullet wound could be found above his left collarbone. In fact, the bullet was still there. How could such a fragile human being resist and take on so much things in his life, when he knew it would lead him towards death. All of a sudden, he heard a knock at the door, and he sensed it was the girls, again.