[ It's a muddled mess to her, really. Maybe she did make a difference. In the short-term at least. The short-term for her — which is easily a lifetime for an ordinary human being. She must have made history dozens of times, changing the world in ways she probably didn't even fathom herself. But it's funny how the thing that gives her such perspective on everything — all those centuries of life and experience — it's the same thing that limits her. She's become distant from it all. All the lives she saved. All the lives she took.

She can hardly remember the half of it. Maybe that's part of why. ]

It wasn't on purpose. I did my damnedest to deter the lot of you. [ She answers with a faint wryness, glancing over at him. Then, maybe a bit more sincerely: ] You know you've made an impact on me. You and everyone else in this house. Wouldn't fucking be here, if you hadn't.

[ She still thinks about it, all the time — that night she came back from the dead, unsure if she even had a black to come back to, and him, unceremoniously taking her back. Letting her come home. ]