"I know. But I don't think you'll get to choose that much. When great wrongs are done or attempted, then equally great rights are required to balance the scales. A life of service, and a hope to do better." He smiled softly to her, eyes on hers, searching.
"Peace is one of those things some of us never get to choose, no matter how much we would like it." His voice was serious, and if she looked in his eyes then, she might see some of that wish in him, too. He might not have tried to destroy the world entire, but he had wrecked his life and one other, and he had longed for the ultimate peace a few times.
"Death is. The only problem is, it's supposed to be final. Yours didn't stay taken, so it isn't clicking that way. But final death... that's very light." Her words about it being hard to breathe made him nod. Pete knew some of that pain. "Guilt is an evil little clingy thing, isn't he? He gets in your heart and your mind and your lungs and weighs you down and whispers vile things to you."
Pete heard her and saw her and moved around to hug her, pulling her close and stroking her back and her hair. he glanced up ans signaled a waitress as he did so, and a privacy screen was brought and settled, shielding them from the others as dignitaries were once given privacy at old school restaurants. Pete concentrated on Helen and on speaking softly and warmly, but firmly. "Let it out, Helena. Come on. You can let it out here. I promise, it wont be used against you." He held her as he had once been held, and his hands and his voice were gentle and soothing and warm.