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Ian watched her run into Charlie's arms. Charlie held her tight. If it had been the final act of a movie Ian knew there wouldn't be a dry eye in the house. They whispered into each other's ears. Ian could take a guess at what was being said.
'I love you.'
'I missed you.'
'I was so scared.'
Ian tried not to think about it too much. He'd missed his chance with Charlie ages ago and even if he hadn't he could never in a million years offer to Charlie what Amita could.
He watched as Charlie stroked the head of his probably future bride. She'd be lovely dressed in white and gorgeous plumped up with Charlie's babies.
Ian packed up his weapons and left.
~
It was three in the morning when the knock came on the door of his motel room. He looked through the peephole at Charlie's distorted face then opened the door.
“Charlie?”
“Can I come in?”
Ian stepped aside and waved Charlie in.
Charlie walked passed then perched himself on the end of the bed, his eyes glued to the floor.
“What's wrong, Professor?”
“I am a monster, Ian.” Charlie's voice cracked.
“I doubt that.” Ian hunted monsters for a living. He knew one when he saw one.
“I love her. I wanted her back. I was so scared for her. I was so glad when she came out of the building. When I thought she was dead the world felt like it was ending.”
Ian didn't say anything, just gestured for Charlie to continue.
Charlie took several deep breaths. “When you arrived, when I first saw you here, all I could think of was you. My girlfriend was being held captive by a lunatic and all that was in my head when I looked at you was that weekend in Monterey when everyone thought we were both somewhere else.”
Ian swallowed down a jolt at those memories. Charlie was supposed to be at some math retreat he didn't really want to attend. Ian was between hunts. Charlie was walking into a cafe and Ian was walking out. They had blinked at each other in surprise. They spent that weekend like lovers, like boyfriends. They went to the aquarium and jazz concerts under the stars. They spent nights rolling around on the sheets of an expensive bed and breakfast. On Monday morning they packed their bags and went their separate ways and never mentioned it again.
Charlie looked up at Ian. His face was drawn and devastated. “What kind of monster am I, Ian?”
A tear beaded at the corner of Charlie's eye. Ian wiped it away with his thumb. “You're not a monster, Charlie. Monsters don't cry. You're conflicted but that just makes you human like the rest of us.”
“I loved that weekend, Ian.”
“I had a good time too.”
“I remember feeling... free. So damn free. I think I would have done anything to stretch that weekend forever.”
Ian sat next to Charlie. He remembered his phone ringing that Monday morning, Charlie curled against his side, and praying for a wrong number instead of another hunt.
Charlie took Ian's hand. “How is this fair to the woman I'm supposed to love?”
“I can't give you what she can, Charlie.”
“When did I ever say I wanted anything she had to give me?” Ian's head snapped around to Charlie. “My whole life people have been telling me what I want. I can count on one hand the number of times someone has ever asked me what I want.”
“What do you want, Charlie?”
Charlie laughed. “I have no idea. Not anymore. When you're not here it's easy, but as soon as you hit town all those wants get tangled up.”
“So maybe I should just go and stay away.”
Charlie's hand tightened around his. “No. I never said I want that.”