"Hm." Doc has the same relationship with the law. Sometimes friend, sometimes foe. They've arrested him, incarcerated him, tried to kill him. Yet he lived, long enough for consumption to take him. In his day he lived by his guns and not by the law. Here he doesn't know what to live by.

"I know what torture in Hell does to people. It is not a pretty sight." Having spent some time amongst the demon-people who get more demon and less people-like over the decades, he can attest that the journey is not a fun one, even if he hasn't yet ventured down below for himself.

"I think it is time to move on, Mister Constantine. Why should the dead hold your remaining time and energy hostage?" The fire flickers and crackles, and Doc starts moving to add more wood and poke around the fireplace to keep the fire going.

"If you should like to join me, it is warmer over here."