Gods And Monsters

Chapter Ninety-two:

It didn't take long for them to find an empty, unlocked house. Upon their entrance, Spike locked the door behind them and Hel followed him up the stairs. Ambling into the nearest bedroom, she sat down on the edge of the queen-sized bed that dominated the small space.

He took a seat next to her. "If it's any consolation, Buffy got kicked out, too."

"That is a little comforting, I suppose." She glanced sidelong at him. "How are things at the house?"

"I didn't see a lot. I came, hit Faith a bunch of times, and left."

She smiled a little. "Really?"

"Oh, you say the word, and she's a footnote in history. I'll make it look like a painful accident."

Hel didn't say anything in response. A long stretch of silence fell between them, punctuated only by the pitter-patter of rain against the windows.

Turning his head, he regarded her curiously. She appeared to be in a state of deep contemplation, gazing straight ahead and chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Penny for your thoughts?" He asked jokingly, attempting to break the ice a little.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

Taken aback by her sudden shift in attitude, he frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No. It's nothing, really. I just..." She trailed off, struggling for the right words. "The marks people leave are too often scars. I learned that lesson the hard way. I avoid attachments, because life has taught me that, in the end, the only person you can really count on is yourself. I've kept everyone around me at such a safe distance for long, I... I don't know if I'm even capable of having a deep connection with anyone anymore."

"I seem to recall a certain amount of connecting." Spike remarked.

She bowed her head, gazing vacantly at the floor. "Don't kid yourself. Our so-called 'connection' is purely physical. You only want me because I'm... Unattainable."

Her words provoking a spark of indignation within him, he shot to his feet and took a step back before turning to glare down at her incredulously. "You think that's all this is?" He demanded. "You have no idea how I feel."

"I really don't think now is the best time for that—"

"Oh, no, no." He interrupted, adamant to speak his mind. "Let's hold on here. I've hummed along to your pity-ditty, and I think I should have the mic for a bit."

"Fine. The stage is yours. Cheer me up."

Spike hesitated for a brief moment, then unexpectedly blurted: "You're insufferable."

"Thank you. That really helped." Hel quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not trying to cheer you up." He retorted.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I dunno! I'll know when I'm done sayin' it. Something pissed me off, and I just— 'unattainable', that's it."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm attainable. May I go to sleep now?"

After another short pause to compose his thoughts, he knelt on the carpeted floor in front of her. "You listen to me: I may not have been alive as long as you, but I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I'd prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. I've made a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of. You." He murmured sincerely, gazing up at her with a deep tenderness in his eyes that stole her breath away. "I love you, and whether you like it or not, I'm here to stay."

She averted her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Spike raised a tentative hand and gently cupped her cheek. "Hey, look at me."

Although reluctant, she did as he requested.

"I'm not asking you for anything." He reassured her, shaking his head. "When I say I love you, it's not because I want you. Or because I can't have you. And it's nothing to do with me. I love what you are. What you do. How you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman."

Her nostrils stung, and tears pressed at the outer corners of her eyes. An invisible weight crushed down upon her chest. She was struck speechless, floored by the heartfelt sincerity of his words.

"I just needed you to know that." He added, offering her a timid smile. "You get some rest now. I'll check in before first light." Standing up off the floor, Spike turned to leave.

"Spike?"

He faced her once more. "Hm?"

"Could you... Stay here?"

"Sure." He glanced over at the russet leather armchair that was tucked away in the far corner. "That diabolical old torture device, the comfy chair." He removed his coat and tossed it onto the arm of the chair. "It'll do me fine."

"No, I mean..." Hel scooted over to the other side of the bed and leaned her back against the headboard, placing her hand atop the grey duvet to indicate the space beside her. "Here."

Spike eyed her for a moment, bemused by her sudden change of heart. Then, he approached the bed and sat next to her. He tensed when she unexpectedly laid down, resting her head on his chest. Tentatively, his arms encircled her. She sighed contentedly, curling up against him, and he cradled the back of her head in one hand.

Exhaustion claimed her within a few minutes, but Spike remained wide awake for the entirety of the night. He stroked her hair and back, listening to the rhythm of her heart beating in the dark.