milliways_bar | (no subject)

Faith Looks At Her. Capital letters intentional. "You think I don't know about sacrifice? Ask Andrew what I know about Sacrifice. Willing to sacrifice you? Yes. I was going to kill Warren and Andrew, if the Powers told me I had to. Am I going to kill you now? No, I'm not. Not because you're my friend, though you are. Not because I love you, although no matter how angry I get I really do care about you. But you're the past of a lot of people here, and I do not want to inadvertantly cause entire worlds to explode due to paradox."

Neither do I.

*Meg's words are careful and measured.*

And, in fact, if you'd asked, I'd have told you that my idea about saving her was only half an idea anyways, and I'm getting less and less convinced of its wisdom day by day, and anyways who says I'll be around in seven years to help her anyways?

But you didn't ask. Or at least, not without a knife.

"I asked you what you were plotting," Faith says, very quietly. "And I told you I was worried that Nick was involved. And you said nothing. Not a word, not a hint. You saw how tired I was, how scared for Nick I've been. And you...well." She shrugs and pulls back, releasing Meg. "I'm sorry about the knife. And I do love you, Meg, you're one of my best friends. Whatever you may think of me now, I do care about you. And I am very, very sorry about your friend. I can't even imagine what it's like." The anger, suddenly, is gone from her voice (too tiring, really), and her eyes are dark with sympathy. "I wish I could help you save her."

I had no idea what you were talking about, *Meg points out. She is, very slowly, relaxing. Very slowly.*

It's an idea that's been in the back of my head for a while, but it's not like I go around scheming it, you know?

"...yeah." Faith slumps against the bar, suddenly weary, covering her face with her hands. "Fuck. Meg. I'm sorry. I just...Charlie, and the tired, and Nick's one of my best friends, and there's...I had dreams about somebody here dying that I happen to know weren't of the past, and I was afraid...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...your legs, I know they...I wouldn't, really...fuck." She laughs, softly. "Way to make friends and influence people, huh?"

*Meg is a sucker for forgive-me voices and self-hatred.

She sighs.*

It's okay.

I know it's been really really really rough for you. And all.

*Her knees are drawn up to her chest now, her arms clasped around them.

She's not entirely reassured yet.*

Faith is silent for a minute, and then, very quietly, she says, "I saw Tonks. And I think she was dead."

*Meg pales.*

But that doesn't necessarily mean it's going to happen, right?

"Not necessarily. But...Meg, you can't tell anybody. Especially Tonks or Bernard, 'cause...well, obviously. But I mean, nobody." Faith is very, very white herself. "I'm going to do everything I can to stop it...but they can't know."

*Meg nods, once, her face determined and hard.*

'course not. I won't tell a soul.

Faith nods back. "OK. Good. Thanks." She sighs, running her hand through her hair. "It's so messed up. Charlie having to kill that guy, and Tonks, and all this...I need to sleep. I need to tell Nick nobody's trying to kill him, and then I need to sleep."

Yes.

On all acounts, *Meg agrees fervently,* yes.

Faith nods, hesitates, and then hugs Meg tightly. "Forgive me?"

*Meg is frozen for a long moment.

But finally hugs her back.*

Yes.

Faith closes her eyes, sensing the hesitation, and releases her. "I will never, ever do anything to your legs," she says, quietly. "I promise."

And off she goes, without another word.