I'm not going to argue that he'd deserve to go to a place better than this one. But last I checked, nobody knows where anybody goes when they disappear.

( Misty, do you understand how much this pains him. the aggressive catholic. Beacon used to feel like purgatory, a waiting place, a ground for proving and maybe eventual redemption. now he doesn't know what it is. it doesn't feel much like purgatory. usually it doesn't even feel much like hell, except for days teenagers disappear and there's not a goddamn thing he can do about it.

trying to talk him out of his guilt is a losing battle. don't argue with a lawyer, especially one so determined to blame himself. he makes an actual face at the idea not worrying sooner seemed reasonable. Matt clearly doesn't agree, he's not likely to. truthfully, he's said more than he really meant to — he's more like to let his guilt and anger fester than to admit it to someone. this entire conversation is probably more than he meant to say, more than he meant to show. whoops.

he pauses, apparently just realizing by smell alone that there's red wine at the table. apropos of nothing: ) I thought you didn't drink. ( if she was worried he didn't pay attention to things she's told him, well, there you go!!! proof he does listen at least some of the time. )