[ He wants to say he didn't make anyone a promise of protection, that none of them are his people, but it runs hard up against the insurmountable wave of Harold's care and loyalty toward those who choose to trust him. He knows he would not ever abandon them, he knows if he were faced with this kind of choice it would be a very hard decision indeed. Yet at the same time, he's hard-pressed to explain to an outsider the kind of suicide crusade Team Machine is on, to do something good before they die but always, always, be expecting that death. It doesn't feel like such a betrayal in that light.
Instead he finds he can only state what is true. ]
Yes. That does haunt me.
It's selfish of me, but I will not be stabbing you, or shooting you, as I will not be stabbing or shooting Mr. Reese or Ms. Shaw. At all.
It's not a fucking person. It's just hungry and rotting and I've done some evil shit in my time but I don't actually want a plague on my soul. You get that?
Because you're assuming there'll be time to get somebody else in. If I'm down, maybe it takes hours before I'm up and rotting. Or maybe it's three minutes. You don't know. Nobody fucking knows.
[ He almost says not to waste the bullet. That ammunition is scarce and cannot be wasted. But this is hard for Harold, he's realizing, maybe on some fundamental level. Sometimes you have to give people grace for the hard shit. ]
Yeah. That'll do it.
It's not a person. I won't feel it, I'll already be gone.
[ There's a 0% chance he'll be stabbing anyone in the head, but maybe, like, a 10% chance Harold might be willing to shoot a corpse. Maybe. It's non-zero. ]
Please stop trying to reassure me. I'll do it to spare further suffering if I must but it will not make me feel better to think you're already dead.
My heart won't be pumping. The eyes will be open but it won't recognize you. They don't feel anything but hungry. I'm just explaining the conditions you'll see.
I trained kids how to do this in Afghanistan, with knives. This is easier. You don't have to feel bad about it. You don't have to feel anything. It's a net positive for the world.
You could probably handle a bomb threat. Maybe even an IED. But this is different. A lot of the kids hesitated at first. Some of them died because of it.
[ Kids, he says, though they were only a few years younger than him. Only Matthew was an actual child. ]
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I'm not threatening you. I'm trying to help you.
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[ He would rather be dead than become that person. Harold doesn't know where that would end once he went there. ]
I've been prepared to die for a long time now.
cw: gore
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Instead he finds he can only state what is true. ]
Yes. That does haunt me.
It's selfish of me, but I will not be stabbing you, or shooting you, as I will not be stabbing or shooting Mr. Reese or Ms. Shaw. At all.
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It's not a fucking person. It's just hungry and rotting and I've done some evil shit in my time but I don't actually want a plague on my soul. You get that?
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I'm sorry, but your neuroses don't trump mine. This is not a goal post I'll be moving.
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[ That's not any more rational than his personal aversion to violence, in his opinion. ]
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This is stone cold practicality, Finch.
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But do not presume to make my choices for me.
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I'm not making you do shit, Finch. I'm asking you for a favor.
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It would mean that much to you?
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I'll save a bullet for you. That's undoubtedly the most horrible thing I've ever typed and I'm going to have nightmares.
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Yeah. That'll do it.
It's not a person. I won't feel it, I'll already be gone.
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Please stop trying to reassure me. I'll do it to spare further suffering if I must but it will not make me feel better to think you're already dead.
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It will not be easy. I will feel bad. Please for the love of god stop telling me about children learning how to use knives on diseased corpses.
If you persist I will time you out.
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[ Kids, he says, though they were only a few years younger than him. Only Matthew was an actual child. ]
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