[Slevin looks back at him, not expecting sympathy, not wanting it; Chris has every right to be pissed. Slevin is holding onto it as well, letting it steep into his voice when he sneers back at his warden:]

This is me using my brain. This is all logic, this is what I was trained to do. Someone pushes you, you can fall down or you can push back.

When your uncle took your legs, how pants-pissing terrified were you? How scared are you still, when you wake up in the morning and there's no one around to see?