[Miserable as it is, Steven understands the sentiment very well. He's already died once over something he considers his own fault, almost died a second time because he ventured somewhere he shouldn't have and just generally had to accept help from others a lot. He keeps falling down and needing other people to pick him back up, often in a very literal sense.

Will he reach a point where others won't want to help him up anymore?

He stares down at the floor, hands wringing together just to get rid of some of the anxious energy that's building.]

Maybe... I hope that's not a real thing, but I can't know for sure, can I? I don't think I'd ever stop wanting to help people either, but I suppose... If enough time passes, and I'll have died enough times, I'll forget who I was or why it's important to look after others. That's a thing that can happen, innit?