Fifty per cent chance
Author: mari6s
Note: Written in french first. I did this translation with help from my english-speaking beta, BeautifulDay13 (thanks again)... The original fic was a double-drabble but I didn't feel brave enough to count every little word and I think the meaning is better conveyed that way...
A lot of people who read this fic asked for a sequel, which is great in some way because it means they loved it, but scaring too, because honestly I don't have a damn idea of what I could say then... For me it was meant to be a oneshot, period... But I promise I'll think about him, and maybe my muse (or my betas, or maybe you, if you can) will whisper an idea to me...
A last word: please, please, let me a review, it's so important for me to know what you thought of it!
'Fifty per cent chance'... Repeated Megan to herself, her eyes fixed on the syringe she held in her hand, filled with a yellow liquid. The promiscine...
A fifty per cent chance to develop a 4400 power, fifty per cent chance to die. And not in the nicest way at all. But then again...
She turned it between her fingers once again, fascinated by this fluorescent yellow. She placed it on the bed, beside her, and pulled up her sweater's left sleeve. Yeah, it was probably the right solution.
She'd been tired of all this for a so long time, tired of her tasteless life. Of not being able to change anything. Now, she could be useful.
Even if it didn't work, after all, did it matter ? At least, she wouldn't die for nothing.
Even if there had been only one chance out of a thousand to survive, it would still have been worthwhile. A fifty per cent chance to change the future, what more could you ask?
Because she believed in all that. That the 4400 had been sent from the future to save them all. That there would be a war. And she'd chosen her side.
She took a deep breath and plunged the syringe into her arm.