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Spencer Monroe was seeing red.
Entering his home, he paced around the living room, trying to calm down, but the rage remained simmering in his chest. His whole family was gone and it was all their fault, it was Rick’s fault.
If they had never come to Alexandria, there would have never been so much death. His father was dead, his brother was dead, and now his mother. He still couldn’t get the image of her walking around, her white eyes glazed over as the virus raged through her undead body. For so long, he had accepted that they were untouchable within the walls of their sanctuary. Now, he wasn’t so sure, especially with men like Rick Grimes.
With a shout of rage, Spencer went to the desk in the corner and opened the second drawer on the left. When he found it empty, he froze.
“Looking for this?” you said from behind him. Spencer whirled around to see you leaning in the entranceway, his gun dangling from your hand.
“Give it to me,” he said, stepping forward, but you shook your head, placing it behind your back.
“No,” you said, standing your ground.
“(Y/N)…” he said, already too tired for an argument. You, however, were as alert as can be and ready to take him down a few notches.
“Are you going to kill Rick?” you asked calmly.
“I’m thinking about it,” Spencer said, annoyed. He never got angry with you. Even if he felt it bubbling up inside him, he went outside and took it out on the wall or just ended up internalizing it fully. You were the opposite. When you were pissed, you tended to either go kill the Dead or take it out on anyone who lit your flame. You weren’t proud of it, but you had survived this long without having to be nice all the time.
However, the way your boyfriend was acting right now was going to get him killed. “Baby,” you began, “I love you, you know I do, but you are being a complete moron right now.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, taken aback.
“If you go after Grimes, if you try to shoot him, you will be dead before you can even pull the damn trigger. Daryl will have a bolt between your eyes in a matter of seconds or Carol will try to take your head off with a spoon. Hell, I bet that kid of his would gut you without even thinking. Not gonna lie, Carl scares the shit out of me and I’m not too proud to admit that.”
“He killed my mother,” Spencer argued.
“No, he didn’t. Deanna died from a Walker. This world killed her,” you reminded him. Spencer scoffed at your use of the colloquialism used by the “invaders”.
“God, you even sound like them,” Spencer said in annoyance. “Calling them ‘Walkers’, what the hell does that even mean?”
“I thought it was pretty self-explanatory…” you said under your breath, but he wasn’t listening.
“If these people had never come here…”
“Then the Walkers in the quarry would have. You saw it the same day I did, Spencer. Those trucks were not going to hold. I have seen large herds since the start of this, but I have never seen anything remotely close to that monstrosity. We are lucky that Grimes was here to help us!”
“You’re taking his side!” he bellowed.
“Stop it!” you countered. “There are no sides, Spence. We need to survive and whether you liked it or not, Rick Grimes is the best at it. I have been on the outside, I have seen what happens when people are not strong enough. I was almost like those people until I finally learned the rules of the new world. You know that I care about you, but you need to start learning them too.”
“My family was alive before they got here, (Y/N),” he reminded you.
“What happened to your father was tragic,” you said softer this time, remembering when Pete had killed Reg. “I am so sorry about him and your mother. Then with what happened to Aidan…it was horrible, but we both know that he shouldn’t have been out there. None of you should be out there when you don’t want to acknowledge how the new world works. We are no longer at the top of the food chain, the Dead are. It is their world and we just have to live in it.”
Spencer stared at you and you watched as the fire slowly faded from his eyes. You began to relax a bit more. Though, you knew he wasn’t done. “What do you expect me to do, (Y/N)?”
“I want you to try,” you nearly begged. “You don’t like Rick? Fine. How about Glenn or Maggie? Hell, even Daryl, though I am pretty sure he wants to punch you in the face, so maybe not. Just try.”
“And if I don’t?” he challenged, crossing his arms.
“Then,” you paused, trying to get your nerve, “then, I’m done. I’ll move into one of the vacant houses and you and I will be finished.”
“What? Why?” he asked, completely struck.
“Because you are letting your emotions cloud your judgment! This world is not so fucking simple anymore, Spencer. I have been trying for months to make you all see the new world and you have refused to listen to me. What do you think is going to happen? Do you think that one day everything is going to magically revert back to normal?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why won’t you acknowledge it? Please, Spencer,” you said as you went to him, dropping the empty gun on the table. You took his hands in yours, unfolding his arms. “I need you to start understanding where I am coming from because I will not lose you. I’ve already lost enough.” Spencer held your hands back, keeping firm pressure. He looked down into your eyes and his shoulders dropped fully.
“I didn’t know you felt this way,” Spencer said.
“You never asked,” you pointed out, lifting one of your hands to rest against his neck. You had met Spencer when Eric had dragged your half dead body through the gates of Alexandria five months before. A group had robbed you and left you without food or water for days and you were desperate for help. When Eric had found you, he hadn’t hesitated to help. It was shortly after that when Spencer introduced himself and there was something about him that just clicked with you.
However, while you knew that there was that connection, you also knew that you couldn’t just sink into the relationship without keeping your reservations. No matter how you felt about Spencer, there was always one person you had to care about above all else and that was yourself.
You had lost too much, seen too much death, and fought too hard to not fight for your own survival. You were now only hoping that he would fight to survive alongside you.
Spencer leaned into you, feeling the firm pressure of your hand against his neck. Your eyes were locked together as you urged him to see what you were thinking and feeling at that moment. With a sigh, Spencer covered your hand with his. “Can I have my gun back, please?” he asked.
“Are you going to talk to Rick?” you asked.
“I can start with Maggie,” he compromised.
“Good,” you said as you turned to pick up the gun and pressed it into his hand. A sort of peace offering. You leaned up and kissed him softly, feeling the stubble on his cheek scratch against your own.
“Were you really going to leave me?” Spencer asked when you pulled back.
“I told you when we met that I wasn’t going to let this world beat me, Spence. I meant it,” you said.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked, cupping your face with his calloused hands. You could feel the bump that was on his finger where he rested it against the trigger of his rifle.
“I don’t know, but that is how I feel and I promised I would always be honest with you,” you said.
“I don’t like ultimatums,” he said.
“Don’t think of it as one. It’s a necessity. Either get along with the people who will fight to survive or be willing to die alone,” you said and you knew it sounded cold, but he needed to hear it. Spencer Monroe wasn’t a man who needed to be coddled, he responded well to the truth and you were willing to be the sounding board for that.
“(Y/N)…,” he started.
“I promised my mom that I wasn’t going to be weak and I stand by that,” you reminded him.
“Which is why I love you,” he said easily.
“Then try to understand me. Hear me,” you nearly begged.
“I do, and I am going to try. I promise,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.
“I don’t expect you to be Van Helsing, but try to see it through my eyes,” you said.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he promised.
“Thank you.”
“I love you so much,” Spencer said.
“I love you, too,” you said as you pulled him in for another kiss, finally feeling like the two of you were getting somewhere. You didn’t always see eye to eye, but perhaps now a compromise could be made. When he pulled back again, he was grinning. “What?” you asked him.
“Van Helsing hunted vampires,” he whispered.
“Oh, shut up.”