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It hurt to hear. Especially after Elliott had just so beautifully and patiently given such profound love and kindness to him, when he’d been only breaking everything due to pointless fears and insecurities.

Elliott had pieced him back together, gently and with care.

He had built him up until Niko felt like someone who had value, worthy of love.

But he still couldn’t see any of that value in himself.

“Because I see you. I see every part of you. Every facet, every potential. Your brilliant mind, your capability, your kind heart. Your protectiveness, your care. There's no one else in this galaxy I'd rather be next to, right now. I—” Niko had to say it. The word was resonating in his head again and again, a stain. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. That I didn’t listen.

That I was trying to stop you. When I called you garbage, it was my ignorance talking.

I thought you were like any other asshole, that you were just killing innocent people because you got a thrill out of it, or it fed your ego, or something.

I’ve seen so many people like that in my work over the years, and it’s left me jaded.

You’re not garbage, Elliott. You’re so much more than that. You have such value.”

“I don’t blame you, Niko. For anything you said.

Or did. For trying to stop me. For not believing what I said at first. For trying to find another way.

I don’t hold it against you at all. In your position, I’d probably have done the same.

I think anyone would. I was so alone and so lost, and you kept catching up to me again and again, so I tried to reach out. ”

“I’m grateful that you did.”

“And I’m grateful that you actually listened to me,” Elliott said. He studied Niko quietly. “I love you too, Niko.”

Niko wrapped around the other man, simply holding him, and rested his head on top of his chest, ear pressed against him.

Then he closed his eyes. A warm sound filled his ears, better than any song—the faithful and steady beat of Elliott’s human heart.

The quiet draw of air in and out of his lungs, a life measured one breath at a time.

You’re still alive .

Elliott had experienced so much pain.

Far more than Niko could ever have imagined. He’d been so blind to it all, had neglected to see what was right in front of him. What Elliott carefully hid away in self-loathing and trauma.

What could drive someone to this sort of depravity? the reporters had asked again and again, circling through theories on never-ending newsfeeds that Niko had gladly eaten up from the couch of his old apartment.

The question should have been, What could drive someone to this sort of desperation?

Niko stayed like that for a while in silence before speaking, his voice gentle but sober with the seriousness of what he wanted to say. “Elliott.”

“Yes?”

“I love you so fucking much. More than I even have words for. I— It’s like we just talked about before, right?

I want you to know you don’t ever have to hide anything from me.

Anything. Even the darkest, most difficult things.

If you ever want to talk about what happened to you there, or about anything on your mind at all, I’m more than happy to listen.

I’m not going to think any less of you. There’s nothing shameful about what you went through, other than that they should be ashamed.

I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to turn you down, or treat you differently.

I’ll still keep waking up next to you. But if you don’t ever want to tell me, you don’t have to. Either way, it’s alright.”

“I…” Elliott exhaled, a long-held tension slowly leaving his body. He was silent for a long while, before finally speaking. “Okay… Okay.”

“Okay,” Niko said gently.

It was as though he’d been waiting to hear those words, to be given permission to share his pain. To know that this time, doing so wouldn’t leave him betrayed and abandoned. Niko wouldn’t fail him the way Liam Soren had. He couldn’t even fathom it.

Elliott tentatively began telling him, his voice steady and quiet, about all the details of what had happened to him after Cleo’s death, of the things Uru Taal had enacted on him.

On how he’d felt himself leaving his own body, so delirious he’d wondered if he was dying or already dead.

That later in his research, he’d found recordings of himself too, but they’d all since been long erased from the dark web in Honeybliss’s house cleaning efforts.

He hadn’t saved them, like he had all the others. Niko was glad they were gone.

They talked for hours, Niko mostly listening, never once stopping in holding him as tightly as Elliott’s injuries allowed for.

Any other urgency in the galaxy could wait.

Elliott laid himself bare before him, sharing the most painful, raw memories of his life, his darkest hours, his greatest agony.

It was devastating to hear. It was all the suffering and misery of the Honeybliss files but multiplied by ten thousand, to know it had happened to the man in his arms whom Niko loved so deeply now.

The surprisingly sweet, tender, sensitive assassin who shared his bed.

Elliott didn’t cry. His tone had no anger, nor even bitterness, instead remaining quiet and drained as he spoke the memories.

It was clear they took everything out of him to share.

But once he finished, something in him changed subtly.

There was a shy light peeking through the tumultuous, torrid dark.

A relief, a peace at finally having been heard.

At having someone to trust in and share his own story to, who had promised not to turn away.

Niko knew he would be the only one Elliott would probably ever share these things with again.

He was fiercely glad to bear this man’s pain, to help him carry the heavy burden of it in any way he could.

He would keep it deep inside himself, all his memories and words, hidden away and protected in layers and layers of plated armor, until Elliott’s voice was inseparable from his own heart.

Afterwards, when Elliott drifted off into the peace of sleep, exhausted and worn down to the soul, Niko finally let himself cry.

He wept for two people named Cleo Marie and Elliott James Kestrel.

Siblings who had been each other’s only sunlight.

Who had loved sushi, and cafes. Parties, and sometimes movies.

They had been driven in their careers. Cleo had loved fashion.

Elliott had loved engineering, loved fixing broken things.

They’d had passions, they’d had dreams. They’d still been trying to find out who they even were.

They had been so young when Honeybliss took them away.

All Niko could do now was give a patient home to Elliott’s heart, and hope that one day, when all of this was over, the beautiful, beloved man could finally learn to live again, somewhere outside of revenge.

Niko would be waiting for him on the other side of it with open arms.