ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ⇴ ᴛᴠᴅ ² ✓

forty one

"Hey, Billie... can I ask you a question?"

The innocent call came from behind her, close enough that her heart jumped with panic. "Sure, what's up?" She wondered just how obvious her discomfort was from behind the cover of her back.

Alaric tilted his head a little, toying with the knife rack on the kitchen island, running the pads of his fingers over their individual hilts. He was unsure if Billie knew he'd changed, her skills in deception were impressive when she put her mind to it, but none of the knives were missing and he assumed she would have taken one to protect herself had she known.

"Do you ever feel remorse?" 

Billie forced out a believable laugh, making herself look busy as best she could, opening cupboards left and right to look for cups, keeping up the ruse. "Constantly. Take your pick over what about."

Ric hummed quietly, squinting his eyes with interest. "You tell me."

She wasn't overly inclined to share many secrets with her history teacher's evil alter ego, but time was a commodity and she needed as much of it as she could for Meredith to get word out. Sighing deeply, Billie hesitantly began.

"Well... sometimes I feel a lot of remorse about my parents. I like to convince myself that it's not my fault we're on such bad terms... when in reality, I think it really is me."

Her eyes pulsed brightly and she took a long breath, trying to pull the words out of her mouth, shovelling sugar into her cup, even though she had a feeling she wouldn't get the chance to drink from it. "Um... I feel remorse about lying to Georgie all the time. I do it to protect her, of course, but I know that I won't always be around to do that. Maybe I'm being selfish keeping her in the dark, because it would be so difficult to explain to her who-what I am."

She could feel that what she was doing was working, but despite this, Billie didn't want to keep going. Even if it might save her life, she didn't feel comfortable revealing this much about herself to Ric's hateful other-self.

Chuckling conversationally, she waved off the topic to stop herself talking about it, going on another exaggerated hunt for teaspoons to mix the coffees with, holding off as long as she could on actually pouring the hot substance seeing as it was her only weapon she could quickly get her hands on. "The list goes on for miles, Ric, I don't want to bore you with the details."

He nodded thoughtfully, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the marble, slotting the knife quietly back into it's spot. "I see. And... do you ever feel remorse about your gifts."

She paused in what she was doing, knowing a confrontation was nearing, but trying to be as casual about it as possible. "Sorry? How do you mean?" She wanted to keep them talking for a little longer, because if they were talking, no one was actively trying to kill anyone else, which in her eyes was always a plus.

"Well, you have extraordinary talents and yet... you use them to make the lives of tyrants and murderers easier."

Harper didn't dare move from her place, listening intently, soles stuck dutifully to the floor. "I would even go as far as to say, it's your responsibility, Billie, to make sure these monsters are destroyed... so they can't hurt anyone else."

She inched her hand towards the coffee pot, grasping it with white knuckles, trying to mentally prepare herself for the idea of hurting someone she loved, even if he wasn't himself at that moment.

"I would agree with you," She began shakily, pressing her free, sweaty palm against the marble to try cool off and ground herself. "But the world isn't always so black and white, Ric. It's not always as simple as that."