Spot nodded at their across the hall neighbor before turning and unlocking the door to the apartment. He knew the woman was keeping an eye on things, after all that's what he paid her for. Part of him was a little astonished by the fact that she so quickly picked up on any little change and he figured she must have spent a majority of her time listening at the door. But what he needed was someone with that particular skill so it suited him just fine.

The interior of the apartment was disheveled but nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. There were a few books left open here and there and there was the scent of burnt coffee in the air. It took him a minute to survey the rest of the apartment as it quickly occurred to him that Tay was absent. Her bag was on the table which indicated that she was in the apartment somewhere.

"Tay?"

He opened the door to the bedroom but other than the bed and chest of drawers it was empty. The bed was unmade and he noticed the quilt was missing. The door to the bathroom was partially open and he pushed the door back to find Tay sitting in the half-filled tub with the quilt wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes were open but there was a vacant look on her face that caused Spot to feel a cold hand squeeze around his heart.

"Anna." At the sound of her name Tay didn't move or even look at him.

He moved to kneel next to the tub. He brushed her hair back away from her face and noticed her eyes were empty. "You gotta talk to me, doll."

Her knuckles were white where she held onto the quilt and she stared off at a point in the distance.

She drew the quilt tighter around her and shied away from his touch when he reached toward her hand. Spot had no idea what might have happened and he briefly considered going across the hall to ask if anyone had been there while he was gone but their neighbor would have already told him if there was. He rubbed his hand over his face and tried to think of anything that might help the situation.

He was reminded of the afternoon after the Irving Hall rally when he'd found her in a similar state inside the girls lodging house. "What happened, doll?"

Spot moved to help her out but at his touch she shook her head back and forth. He pulled his hands back away and frowned. "I can't touch you?"

She was visibly shivering and when he placed his hand in the water he found it was ice cold. He pulled the plug out of the bottom of the tub and watched as the water disappeared out of the porcelain tub that he had always dreamed of but had never been able to afford before.

"I was…I…" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Lacking any better idea he found himself climbing into the now empty tub, sitting across from her but being careful not to touch her. She looked at him for a split second before turning her eyes back toward that invisible point. "I saw him."

"Who did you see?"

"I saw him…that man…I saw him on the street today." She didn't need to say his name as Spot understood without her saying anything. The only way she'd ever refer to Morelli was to call him 'that man' as though using his name would give him even more power over her.

Spot let out a long breath. He didn't want to appear frustrated so he considered what she said for a moment.

"That man. His hands. They were his hands…I know those hands, Liam," Tay told him. She shivered noticeably and he reached for her but she drew back. "I saw him."

"Anna." He wasn't sure what to say or even if he should say anything. Obviously she'd been mistaken but he didn't want to act like it was no big deal. Just as she'd been ever so slightly opening up something had happened that caused her to shut herself down again.

"I had to get him off of me–I wanted–I needed to wash all of it off," Tay told him somewhat frantically.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" His presence in the apartment had been a requirement for longer than they had lived there. She'd only willingly enter any body of water, no matter how small, when he was within a certain distance.

"I–I'm not–I brought this with me," Tay said as she pulled at the quilt. It was collected around her, covering her entirely with the exception of her hands and face. "I'm not a child, you know."

"I didn't say you were, doll."

"You don't understand, I had to–I'm fine. I'm just fine, okay?"

"Anna."

"I'm fine, Liam."

"Doll, you ain't fine. We're sitting in an empty bathtub and you got that quilt wrapped around you like it's the only thing holding you together."

"You don't believe me," Tay told him as she looked away. "I saw him."

He reached out and tentatively took one of her hands in his own. What was he supposed to say to that? Whatever had happened had clearly left her shattered and he was hurt by the idea that she thought he didn't believe her. But how could he be expected to explain that what she'd seen was impossible? He decided to try and start from the beginning.

"Where did you see–this man?"

"It doesn't matter. You won't believe me." Tay just scowled down at where their hands were linked and refused to meet his gaze.

"Anna, I believe something happened and I want you to be able to talk about it but we both know it wasn't the same man you think it was. He's dead, doll. He's gone."

He had no idea how else to approach it and he hoped like hell that she wouldn't continue to stubbornly cling to her belief that she'd seen Morelli. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd seen something that had upset her and that was nothing new. He was still learning how to behave around her as certain phrases, foods, and experiences would upset her.

There was a long moment of silence and he noticed tears welled up in Tay's eyes. She didn't make a single noise as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She put her head down quickly and tried to pull her hand out of Spot's grasp but he held tight. She pulled the quilt over her head and practically disappeared from view.

"Anna, you didn't do anything wrong."

There was no answer. He could see her shoulders shaking beneath the quilt and he felt himself at a loss as to what to say. There had been so many times when the only things he had said to her were things meant to cause her pain. Apologies seemed pointless and he thought ruefully of how often she had come to him for comfort and he'd just made her suffer more.

"I thought it was him. His hands…they were…I thought…" She barely whispered the words and he struggled to hear her muffled voice.

"Look at me." He pushed the quilt back and lifted her chin. "He's gone. No one is gonna hurt you anymore."

Tay gazed at him for a long moment and he could see the turmoil in her eyes. It was a relief to see any emotion other than the vacant look she'd had when he'd first entered the room. It was a look he knew all too well as there had been a number of times Tay had withdrawn into herself and left him on the outside unsure of what to do.

"Like you did?"

"What?"

"You said no one is gonna hurt me anymore. Like you hurt me?"

He was caught off-guard for a second and couldn't meet her eyes. "Yes, like I hurt you."

Spot got to his feet and stepped out before reaching for Tay. She took his hand and the quilt left a sodden trail behind as she entered the bedroom. He left her to dress and reentered the kitchen. The sun glinted off a bottle that lay half-hidden in her bag. Spot reached for it without thinking and was dismayed when he read the label. As he poured it down the drain he felt his shoulders tense as he thought about how to approach it. The last of the laudanum disappeared as Tay entered the kitchen behind him.

"You're using again," Spot said without turning.

"I'm–I'm not," Tay stammered.

Spot held on to the edge of the sink and tried to keep control of his anger. "Don't lie to me."

"You have no right to go through my things."

"So you are using again. Is this why you saw–"Spot cut himself off but as he turned to Tay he realized she had known exactly what he had planned to say. He hadn't meant to hurt her but he could clearly see the look of pain on her face.

"How dare you," Tay told him, her cheeks growing red with anger. It caught him off-guard as he had seen her go through a variety of emotions after her assault but anger had not been one of them.

"Anna." He had thought about apologizing but he was distraught at the idea of her using drugs again. He'd watched her go through that hell once after the miscarriage and he hadn't really considered that she might have returned to drugs after what had happened with Morelli.

"I wanted to sleep. Is that such a fucking crime? I want to sleep without feeling his hands, his body on mine."

"I don't–"

"That's right, you don't. You don't know what it's like to still feel him, to still hear him whispering to me. You don't have to look in the mirror every damn day for the rest of your life and see the scar he left you with. You don't know about any of it!"

He was astonished by the force of her anger but didn't feel the usual desire to match her rage with his own. Instead he was willing to listen and part of him was grateful that she was finally giving a voice to all the turmoil she had been keeping inside all that time.

"It's why I have to leave," Tay told him in a low voice.

"No." The word came to his lips almost instantly and he swallowed hard as a sharp feeling hit him in the heart. That was one thing he could not bear. Why did it seem like he was constantly facing the risk of losing her? He felt himself grow cold at the idea. "You're not going anywhere."

"Don't you see? I can't fix this any other way."

"Then I'll go with you."

"Liam, please."

He'd always had a plan before and prided himself on being ten steps ahead of everyone but he realized as he listened to her that he was grasping at straws. He had just about got her back and there she was telling him the only solution was for her to leave. He reflected back on his past attempts to keep her under his thumb and felt shame. He had used threats, intimidation, every dirty trick in the book to keep her right where he wanted her. It had pained him when she had brought up his past treatment of her but he had known it was a conversation they would eventually have to have. There was no doubt in his mind that her plan to fix things by leaving had more than a little to do with his abusive past. Why would she want to stay with him? Spot had never really been brave enough to face that question before but he was at a loss as to what to do.

"Where will you go?"

Tay twisted her fingers together nervously. "I don't know."

"If you don't know, then maybe you should just stay here. With me."

The kitchen table was between them and he watched as Tay took a seat and placed her head in her hands. Spot searched through the provisions on the counter and found a half full bottle of whisky. He took two glasses out of the cabinet and set them on the table before taking a seat across from Tay. Spot poured a good amount into one of the glasses and pushed it over to Tay before pouring one for himself. She raised her head at the sound and smiled weakly at the sight of the glass of whisky.

"Plan on getting me drunk, Conlon?" Tay joked before taking a sip.

"Seems to help people sort things out," Spot answered.

Tay ran her index finger along the rim of the glass and seemed to be considering what to say. He wasn't exactly sure where he wanted to begin either. He recalled Race's advice from the other night that what Tay needed was time. But Spot had imagined that they would be together while time passed. Tay had left him before and Spot reflected on the mess his life had become without her in it.

"I don't know where to start," Tay told him quietly.

"Maybe we should start with what you think leaving is going to do," Spot suggested.

"I have to—I need to–leave. I can't do this to you anymore."

"What do you mean? Do what to me?"

"It's always been like this. You've always had to take care of me. You got thrown in the Refuge because of me. You went after Rook because of me. You've killed people because of me."

"Doll, those were my decisions to make. I made the choice to go into the Refuge because I'd been there before and I knew what it was like. I couldn't let you go through that alone. As for Rook, we both know I wanted to be the leader. It was selfish and I thought I understood what it would cost but none of it was your fault."

"You always told me I had no one to blame but myself," Tay pointed out.

"I was wrong, Anna." Her eyes widened in shock but she quickly lifted her drink and took another sip to cover her surprise. He had admitted to being wrong before but it had been rare. He'd always been more likely to lay the blame at her feet. He cringed as he thought about the number of times he had done exactly as she'd said. Years of memories flooded his thoughts and he recalled how many times she had tried to free herself of him. Maybe it would be better for her if he left but the truth was he couldn't let her go or leave her behind.

"Do you want to stay?" Spot asked. He hadn't even really wanted to ask the question but he needed to know. She had stayed with him before and while he'd never understood it he had been grateful that given the chance she had always remained by his side. But he also considered the fact that many times she had stayed because he had forced her to. It felt like a rock settled into the pit of his stomach as he considered the times she had attempted to break free of him by any means necessary. He was terrified that if he didn't do the right thing, say the right words that he might drive her right back to suicide.

"Haven't I always stayed?" Tay asked. "Even when you—when we fought, I still stayed with you. But this is different, Spot. I love you, I always have but I'm not good for you. I don't even know if I ever was."

"You're not good for me? We both know damn well I'm the one who isn't good for you. After everything I did to you, you still blame yourself? I tortured you, I took everything from you, every chance at happiness you ever had. I'm no better than Mo–"

"No," Tay interrupted quickly. Her eyes flashed with anger. "Don't even say it. You're not like that man."

"Face it, doll, we are alike in more ways than one."

Tay shook her head and lifted the glass to her lips, taking a long drink. Two pinpoints of color appeared on her cheeks and he could clearly see the storm brewing in her eyes. She set the glass down forcefully and stared across the table at him for a long moment.

"Are you sorry?"

Was he sorry? Of course he was sorry. He hadn't ever really tried to put it into words before and had used the simplest apologies in the past. But she clearly needed something more and he tried to think of some way to put into words how much shame he felt for his past behavior.

"If we're being honest here, doll, I don't even know how to tell you how bad I feel about everything I did. It ain't like I can just say, 'I'm sorry', and it not sound like every other time I said the same thing. But just the same I want to apologize because you deserve so much better. So yes, I'm sorry."

"Then you're not like that man," Tay told him simply.

"My apologizing don't mean I'm not—"

"Why did you do it? Because I know why he hurt me, it was a pleasure for him."

"Anna–" Tay held up her hand and he let his next words fade away. He wanted her to be able to talk about her experience even as it gutted him to hear her. What he didn't understand is why she seemed so intent on making him out to be somehow better than Morelli. How many times had she called him a monster to his face? And she'd been exactly right because that was exactly what he was.

"You always said you were protecting me, right? And I ain't saying it was right 'cause we both know it wasn't. You told me once that you didn't know what to do, that I was fifteen but it wasn't like you were so much older and wiser than me. We're the same age, remember? So if I was fifteen, so were you. I'm not gonna lie and say it didn't hurt me 'cause it did—"

"I thought I was protecting you," Spot admitted.

"So you did what you thought was best, right? To keep me safe?"

"That don't mean it was right, doll."

"Did it make you happy? Did you like hurting me like that?" Tay waited until Spot shook his head, horrified by the implication. "I think I've always known you're not the monster that you think you are."

"Anna—I'm–I mean—" He couldn't find the words to say and part of him was annoyed that he'd always been one to know what to say, or not to say, but was stumbling over his words.

Tay finished the whisky that was in her glass and reached for the bottle. Spot raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I thought you weren't planning on getting drunk."

"It's been a very long day," Tay shrugged before pouring more whisky into her glass.

"Do you want to talk about what happened this morning?"

Tay picked at the label on the bottle and there was a long moment of silence. Spot had expected her to say no straight away so he was a little curious about what answer would be taking so long.

"I told you. I saw him," Tay told him in a low voice. She picked up the glass and took a drink before staring down into the contents. "I tried to tell myself that it wasn't him but…I don't know what happened…I want to be left alone. I don't want to see him or hear him or even think about him. I thought that maybe if I left he wouldn't be able to follow me. Things were getting better and then…I can't explain it to you."

"You said you saw his hands. Where were you when that happened?"

Spot had no intention of pushing her on the issue but since she'd been a little more open with him he decided to take his chances.

"With Mouse," Tay explained with a half-smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "He wanted a pretzel so I offered to buy him one. I went to pay and that was when I saw his hands. They were the same."

"The same as Morelli?"

"I tried not to look at him," Tay said softly. She gazed straight across at Spot. "He scared me, Liam. More than anyone, more than you. His eyes were dead, there was no light or feeling. Just nothing. His hands were the same way. Cold and dead."

Spot took a drink from his own glass and watched as Tay bit at the fingernails of her left hand, noting the way her eyes remained downcast. That she was still tormented by Morelli was obvious and Spot felt the desire to comfort her but he wasn't exactly sure what to do or say. It was exactly as she'd said, things had been slightly better and as time passed he had begun to see signs of her old self but it seemed they were back at the beginning again. Killing Morelli had eased Spot's mind but it was clear that Tay was still consumed by the man. Spot was reminded of the many times in the past that Tay had attempted to run from her troubles and he realized she might be still doing just that.

"What if it doesn't work? What if you leave and he still haunts you?"

"I don't know," Tay admitted. "But at least you'll be free of me."

"Christ," Spot muttered under his breath. "Anna, I don't want to be free of you. You're not a burden to me."

"Race told me that if I left it would break your heart," Tay said quietly. There was a question in her eyes as though she wasn't sure she believed what Race had said and Spot knew she had every reason to believe that he didn't even have a heart, let alone a broken one.

"It would," Spot confessed. He had no ulterior motive, no plan to keep her at arm's length. It was the simple truth.

Tay tipped her head to one side and gazed across the table at him. "Tell me."

"I love you," Spot answered simply.

Tay pushed her chair back and got to her feet, crossing over to Spot and drawing him to his feet. Her cheeks were flushed and he caught the slightest hint of peppermint behind the whisky as she stood close enough to him that he could feel her breath.

"Kiss me." Her eyes flashed across his face and he could easily see the storm brewing within.

"Anna." His breath hitched in his chest and he couldn't stop himself from reaching up and running his fingers over her cheek. He tried like hell to keep a lid on his desire but he knew it was a lost cause. She put her hands on his chest before sliding her fingertips to his waist and under his shirt. "Are you sure?"

"I need to feel something. I have to know if I can still feel and not just be numb inside."

Spot leaned down and kissed her, feeling a flood of emotions as she finally let him in. It wasn't delicate or careful but their love had never been either of those things. Her skin was like fire and he found he didn't care in the slightest if he was burned. She had said she needed to know if she could still feel while he struggled with the old habit of trying not to feel at all. But he was so stunned to see her open herself to him that he couldn't reign in his own feelings. Beneath it all was the shadow of her threat to leave him but in that moment he only wanted to be there with her. The rest could wait.

Author's Note: My goodness are holidays hectic ;-) Sorry to leave the delightful readers hanging! I have to say I'm not exactly sure what this chapter is and it certainly jumps around a lot so I'll leave it up to you lovely people to tell me if it's good or bad :-)

I would say Happy New Year but honestly, I'm so gutted that Betty White passed that I'm not really in the holiday mood anymore.

Please enjoy and leave a review (if you like!) - Happy Reading!