[John looks at Spike's face, twisted, and demonic. He doesn't look away. When Spike's stopped speaking, having said his piece, the words thrown like knives into the already bleeding flesh of John's broken heart, he kisses him.
For his pain. For Spike's pain. For the pain they share.
Maybe Spike's right, and John's not really a monster, just a fucked up man with a gun, driven mad by pain, but at least he's not alone in it. Whatever this is, it's too much, too soon, John knows that much, but it's something, and it's better than nothing.]
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For his pain. For Spike's pain. For the pain they share.
Maybe Spike's right, and John's not really a monster, just a fucked up man with a gun, driven mad by pain, but at least he's not alone in it. Whatever this is, it's too much, too soon, John knows that much, but it's something, and it's better than nothing.]