"SO, DARLIN'... do... do ya' remember me..?" Boothill trailed off, sounding hopeful.

He seemed so upset when you had no recollection of this man. He kidnapped you — claiming to be his baby — the child he lost all those years ago. But that wasn't the truth at all.

"Please. Please say that ya' remember me, sunshine," he begged. He was trying his hardest not to break down into sobs. He reached out, trying to grab you. To feel your touch. Anything.

But he couldn't. His body wasn't capable of doing so. Not after it had been replaced by the machinery and metal parts which was now his body. Touch was now so foreign to him.

"Let me go," you stammered, trying to break free of the ropes he tied you up in. But of course, he couldn't let his child escape again. He would not let you get ripped from his clutches again.

"No," he told you, giving you a dark look. In Boothill's mind, he believed that you were the child he lost all those years ago. His mind having come up with the conclusion that the IPC took his child away rather than dying in that explosion all those years ago.

He won't let himself be robbed of the happy ending he deserved.