"You have. I'm just trying to understand what it means that you would rather jump off a cliff to wake yourself up than tell that friend something. I know what it would mean if I did it, and I'm not saying I wouldn't do it--there are plenty of people I don't want nosing around my past. But you aren't me and I don't want to put my motives in your mouth."
He tenses slightly. "Because I wanted it to be over with," he tells him. "Because I wanted it to end. What is so difficult to understand about that?"
And certainly not because she had been making good points. Certainly not because she had a point. Not because he was starting to feel like rethinking it.
Lark just watches him evenly, knowing that for the defensive answer it is. that's not all there is to it, and he's content to wait to see what Pagan says next.
"Well, maybe I am un-asking you now," he tells him. "Look, I know where this is going to lead, Lark. I know where this path goes, and I don't want to travel it."
Suddenly, he really wants a drink. He settles for just looking annoyed.
"It's something I need to do, but I don't want to," he tells him firmly. "It was easier when I had Ishwari with me. Easier before they fucking killed my daughter."
Need and want are two very different things. Lark won't pretend even for a moment that they aren't, and that need trumps want every time. "Is everyone in the organization to blame for that? Or are there people who would never murder a child?"
He smirks. Go ahead and keep dodging the real answer, Pagan, he has all the time in the world. "Because fewer people to kill means more free time for you?"
Pagan, at this moment, knows what the answer should be. He knows what's reasonable and logical.
He does not go that way.
"Then I would give then a hearty 'I told you so' from the other side of the gun. They're nothing more than idiotic pheasants, these Golden Path rebels. Down to the very last soldier."
"Fair enough," Lark says, clearly not buying what Pagan is selling. "But a complete waste of time and resources. If you tried that on me, I'd have you over a barrel by the end of the year."
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And certainly not because she had been making good points. Certainly not because she had a point. Not because he was starting to feel like rethinking it.
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Suddenly, he really wants a drink. He settles for just looking annoyed.
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He does not go that way.
"Then I would give then a hearty 'I told you so' from the other side of the gun. They're nothing more than idiotic pheasants, these Golden Path rebels. Down to the very last soldier."
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"You think so? Well, you wouldn't be on that side, Lark."
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"Yes."
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