Author Note: Song Prompt for this chapter - Demons, performed by Imagine Dragons and covered by Enhypen

Sarah

"Sarah," Rick gave a curt nod, looking half annoyed as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

"I-I-what? You bought the house?" She murmured, watching him come down the porch steps.

"Yeah, look, I know you probably want to make this quick, so-"

"How have you been?"

*

Rick

Rick froze, the question taking him completely by surprise.

"I am good," he responded, followed by an unwilling "and you? How-how you been?"

"Good," she smiled, and his heart jerked. "You look really good, terrific actually."

He nodded, with what he could muster as a smile.
"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please."

Rick frowned. This was not going the way he had intended. This should have been a simple greeting, give her the stuff she came for, and go on with his life. He turned back to the house, and she immediately followed him too closely as he caught a whiff of her perfume.

Fuck.

He quickly proceeded to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

"Sar-" he broke off when he realized she was not with him. He went back out and stopped in the hallway, where he found her staring at the portrait hanging over the fireplace in the lounge.

"He was a real bastard, you know," she said, almost as though to herself. She turned around to look at him.
"My grandfather. He loved me so much that he left everything...his life here for me after my parents...died."

"I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you get rid of all this stuff?" She waved her arm.

Rick shrugged. "I don't have any furniture, so when I bought the house, it was a bonus." He frowned.
"I didn't know this was your house, Sarah."

"It wasn't really my house," she smiled sadly.

The kettle whistled, and for a moment he hesitated before returning to the kitchen.

*

Sarah

Sarah sighed. It was obvious he did not want her here, which contradicted his insistence that she come personally. Whatever he wanted to give her must be important enough to warrant it. For the life of her, she could not imagine what it was. These were her grandfather's things. She had no connection apart from being his granddaughter.

Perhaps coffee had been a mistake.

She quietly entered the kitchen in time to be handed a steaming cup of coffee.

"Thanks."

Rick nodded and leaned back against the counter, his concentration firmly on his own cup.

The silence deepened, and Sarah could feel herself suffocating. She desperately wanted to run to him and wrap her arms around him.

*

Rick

Rick cleared his throat and placed his half-empty cup onto the counter behind him.
"I-I should, uh, go and get your things."

He rushed from the kitchen, missing the agonized expression on Sarah's face. If he had thought that sending the contents he had discovered by courier would have been viable, he would have done it in a heartbeat. It had been a shock to find Sarah was the previous owner. They had never met during the sale, and during their brief relationship - Rick grimaced - brief interlude, they had never shared last names.

He carefully traversed the steps down to the basement. The wood was old and rotten, and in some spots, splintered. There were two boxes, both neatly secured with package tape. He had taken extra care with the smaller one. Whatever the reason for Sarah dissociating herself from this house and her grandfather was, it was none of his concern. He frowned. That was a lie.

He had loved Sarah. And, despite how they had parted, especially the last time, he owed her the chance to cherish what her grandfather had truly left for her.

About ten minutes later, Rick returned to the kitchen, carrying both boxes.

"You are welcome to open them here, if you want, or I can take them to your car?"

"It would be better if I left," came the whispered reply. Rick lifted his eyes to meet hers, and his heart stopped. Her eyes were red, and there were clear tear streaks on her cheeks.

"Sarah."

*

Sarah rushed from the kitchen and headed back outside. She regretted her initial decision to park so far away. She could hear Rick behind her, trying to keep up. When she reached the car, she quickly unlocked the boot.

"Just dump it in there," she said as she climbed into the car and switched on the ignition. She watched Rick in the rearview mirror as he carefully placed the boxes inside the boot and then closed it. For a moment, their eyes met before she averted hers.

Rick moved around the car and came to stand next to her car door. It took her a few seconds to roll down her window.

"Thank you, Rick," she mumbled, still not looking at him.

"I don't know what demons you are running from, Sarah, but it might be worth having someone to help you face them."

Sarah bit her lip, and before the threatening tears could escape again, she stepped on the gas.

*

The car sped away, and Rick coughed as dust blew into his face. He sighed and turned to walk back to the house.

If only he could have been what Sarah wanted and needed.

If only he could have been enough.

*