Widmore: I wondered when you were going to show up. I see you've been getting more sun.
Ben: Iraq is lovely this time of year. When did you start sleeping with a bottle of scotch by the bed?
Widmore: When the nightmares started. (sits up and pours drink) Have you come here to kill me Benjamin?
Ben: We both know I can't do that. ...
Widmore: (to Ben) You creep into my bedroom in the dead of night like a rat, and have the audacity to pretend that you're the victim. I know who you are boy... what you are. I know everything you have you took from me. So once again I ask you; why are you here?