He didn't say anything -- not that any of it was necessary. If Heather was telling the truth and not just saying that just to get out of any quarrels, there was no point in arguing.

Murphy felt his shoulders slump, staring at the trinket that was offered to him. Loathe as he was to accept anything from her right now, he reluctantly took it in one hand. His other briefly took Heather's into his own, as more of a reassuring gesture that he would make do.

"Thanks. I'll... I'll bring it back." Whether Heather heard or understood it meant nothing, as it was more of a promise Murphy made to himself than anything. There was no use in putting much stock in his own confidence, simply because there wasn't much there to begin with. Even now, the fact that Heather was putting faith into him felt more like a death sentence than anything else. With so many patterns added to his failures and losses, it was only natural for Murphy to feel a little superstitious.

Maybe it was just that he'd always been cursed. For that, he was afraid, even if he tried so hard to keep it all buried under the mess.

People who believed in him did not seem to last very long...

Murphy froze. He wasn't even going to answer that at first, because... What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Let everybody else die first? It already felt like he was a bit late for that.

People were going to die anyway, if he didn't do anything.

Tucking the locket away in his pocket, Murphy nodded, and stepped away from Heather's bedside.

"Don't you dare go dyin' on me first, either. I'll get one of those ghost-savvy people and give you Hell, if you do." Whether she could actually hear him or not meant nothing.

...Actually, he kind of hoped that she didn't hear him say that.