A/N: Griffin has already sacrificed her tomorrows with Valtor for her to allow him to take away her tomorrows with Faragonda too.
The steps approaching her were quiet enough not to disturb the natural peaceful state of the library–or at least not to disturb it more than her own sobs that she'd tried to suppress but some had gotten away from her–and that gave away who they belonged to. She'd thought that she'd be alone in the library in that late hour but Faragonda always knew when something was wrong with her so when she hadn't found her in her room, she'd also known where to look for her.
Sure enough she felt her friend's gentle touch on her shoulder before Faragonda sat down on the floor next to her slumped form. And as much as she'd wanted to be left alone she could never make herself shrug off Faragonda's hand because nothing was stronger than their friendship. Not even guilt or self-loathing.
Griffin looked up at Faragonda and even though her vision was blurred from the tears and her glasses were all covered in water drops, she could still see Faragonda's eyes darken as she sensed the direction of her thoughts.
"You're crying because of him," she didn't try to stall or be roundabout and the way she spat out the pronoun made Griffin afraid to think of how she would've said his name. It reminded her too much of the hatred her own heart held and it was a pain that she never wanted to let Faragonda go through. "This is all on him. He's a monster," Faragonda said, her grip on Griffin's shoulder tightening slightly as if in an attempt to get the words through to her. And it was far from hurtful–she doubted Faragonda could ever harm her no matter how far either one of them would let herself go–but it was still alarming with the potential for destruction it carried. Potential that couldn't be in Faragonda's hands.
"He is," Griffin said through heaving breaths, the images flashing through her mind more than enough evidence of that, painting a perfect picture of his crimes and everything he was capable of. And her heart hurt, burned by her own feelings. "He is the monster that I love," she said, cutting her gaze from Faragonda's because she couldn't take the chance of seeing some more hatred in her friend's eyes. Even when she knew Faragonda would never hate her no matter what she'd done. "Because I'm a monster too."
"That's not-"
"Yes, it is," Griffin interrupted her because everything Faragonda would say was biased. And they had a real problem when she was the objective one. "Valtor kills whoever gets in his way to accomplish his goal," her hand closed in a fist, clutching tightly at the fabric of her dress to keep herself out of the past when she'd seen no problem with that. Not because she was disgusted by the memories but because she was afraid she'd forget why she should be. "I have killed people who were in my way to accomplish my goal," and she'd seen no problem with it right up to the very end, right until she'd realized how far that mindset could take you. Genocide had been her cutoff point this time, but if she fell into that madness again, she couldn't be certain that she'd be able to stop herself once more. "We're one and the same. It's why we made such a great team." It was why she still missed the intoxicating feeling of their partnership. Of everything that had come with it from the good morning kisses to the heartless killing, it had all been a part of the heaven they'd built for themselves while chasing their common goals.
"You're not like him," Faragonda said as she grabbed at her shoulders as if to shake her out of those thoughts and she held on to her even if she didn't quite want to leave them. Just like she hadn't wanted to leave him. She hadn't wanted to leave her everything behind. And she sometimes still wanted to go back, held back only by the fact that he'd never take her and that would break her heart worse than being away from him burned. "You left him because you're better." She was burning in agony because she wasn't. She'd never been.
"That difference is just a product of circumstances," she said, her voice steady now and the tears drying because she'd never been more sure of anything in her life. He'd been raised not to feel, not to care and not to value life. She hadn't, and yet, she'd been right there with him, at his side the entire time. And in a sense that made her worse than him. Because he didn't know any better, but she did. She did and she'd still crossed the line and her own boundaries. And she couldn't blame him for that, or her love for him. She could only blame her own heart that had been full of too much pain and hatred and she'd allowed it to go numb while simultaneously drawing from the negative feelings to feed her magic and make herself a threat to the innocent.
"You love him still?" Faragonda asked, and there was no judgment in her voice or her eyes just like Griffin had known there wouldn't be. And she couldn't tell if it was relief that filled her or guilt. Because she didn't deserve that treatment but she wanted it too much to refuse it with her selfishness. She'd let herself become the worst possible version of what she could be and Faragonda still regarded her as a friend. Because she was still her friend, even when she was at her worst.
She did. She did love him and it hurt but it was better that way. It was better to hurt from love than from hate. She'd learned that now and it was a valuable lesson that managed to give some meaning to her life and the cycle of agony it had become.
Faragonda's hands fell away from her shoulders, making her heart skip a beat from the uncertainty that washed over it. "I swore to myself that I'd kill him," Faragonda said, making Griffin flinch with how slow and serious the words were, definitely well thought out and not just a show of impulsivity, "but I can't take him away from you." Faragonda looked down, as if ashamed from herself, and for the first time in their friendship Griffin wasn't quite certain she knew what stood behind the action. For Faragonda was certainly not joking about her decision, so perhaps she was ashamed of the possibility of her actions hurting Griffin.
"He took himself from me," Griffin was quick to say to reassure her, to reassure them both.
Valtor wouldn't be any more lost to her if he were dead than he was now. But she knew she still wouldn't be able to accept it. Her heart would still fill with resentment for Faragonda if she killed him, for it would be like having a part of it torn away and she'd need something to fill the bleeding, gaping hole left in the place of her love. And she couldn't afford that. She couldn't afford more hate.
"However, I'm asking you not to do it." She hesitated for a moment before reaching to take Faragonda's hand in hers. The gesture drew too much of her attention to the fact that her hands were stained with blood but that was the least of her concerns right now. "Not because of me but because of you." A lie wasn't such a big deal after all the other crimes she'd already committed. The truth that would break Faragonda's heart was more concerning but the only way to be selfless now was to be selfish. Or at least that was what she liked to believe. "It's so hard to begin every day knowing that you're the reason someone has no tomorrows," she said, not sure whether looking at Faragonda or not would be better, but she couldn't look anyway so that solved the problem even if it was the solution that only served her, "knowing that you're the reason there's a corpse with no soul out there."
Faragonda squeezed her hand, not allowing her to sink into the memories of all the terrified faces that had come to terrify her in her dreams. It was not quite in her ability to tell whether it was done in support or in search of such and she allowed herself to interpret it as both, giving herself permission to be selfless and selfish with the presumption that that was what Faragonda was doing. Even though she couldn't remember a single time when the fairy had been selfish and hadn't had her best interest in mind, but she chose to ignore the knowledge that she was just projecting to assuage her own conscience when she had to be a good friend.
"Valtor may be a monster but he has enough of a soul for it to weigh on your conscience." Breaking his heart still weighed on hers, and she'd only killed him figuratively. Though, knowing him, that was probably worse. But it was all her good intentions ever led to, and she had no choice but to live with it, because her bad intentions always led to worse. It was the one word that described her perfectly. She was a witch, but she wasn't evil. She was worse. "Don't do that to yourself," she said as she locked eyes with Faragonda. Don't make me lose you, the voice screamed in her head, but she held it back in one last attempt to put someone before herself for a change. She'd already lost Valtor, and she'd lost herself. She couldn't lose Faragonda too. It would be too much. There would be no tomorrow for her if that ever happened.
It seemed to work as Faragonda drew her into a hug, even if only due to the fact that Faragonda's best interest coincided with hers this time. It still allowed Griffin to breathe deeply, though, as she wrapped her arms around Faragonda, trying to keep her safe as much as she was holding on for her life. For the sun would keep coming up every morning as long as Faragonda was there with her.