Page 34 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Nikolai pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You are hungry.” It was a statement, not a question.

Elliot had been ignoring the hunger that had been a constant since Horatio had grabbed him. His body was hungry, he knew that. But he felt sick at the idea. “I don’t know if I can eat,” he admitted, looking down at Apricot, still clutched in his hands.

Nikolai’s shoulders slumped. “Is not good for you. You are so thin.”

Elliot didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he asked, “Is everyone really okay?” He wanted to be sure.

“Yes, is fine,” Nikolai said. “Gerard got grazed, Boris took one in the leg, but both are okay.”

Two people hurt, because of him. Fuck.

“You should’ve left me there.” The words spilled from Elliot’s mouth. “It’s–I’m too much trouble.”

“No.” The word came out hard, and when Elliot looked up, Nikolai's expression was stony. “No. My people, none of them want that. You are no trouble. Is Vitale who is problem.”

Elliot bit down the whimper, the denial.

“Elliot,” Nikolai said, voice gentling as he crouched down to face him. “No biting. Please.”

Elliot released his lip. “Sorry. Um, so, um, what happens now?”

Nikolai sighed. “Now is waiting game until Vitale shows back up. But meeting with his cousin went good. We have Vitale family blessing to take care of it.”

Elliot had forgotten all about the meeting.

Take care of it.

Well. He knew that meant only one thing. “Oh.”

Silence descended.

“You must eat,” Nikolai said eventually. He sounded almost like he was pleading, but that couldn’t be right. “What can you try?”

“I…” Elliot wracked his mind trying to come up with anything that he thought he could stomach. Anything he could eat, so Nikolai wasn’t disappointed in him. So he didn’t cause Nikolai even more trouble.

“Maybe… maybe a smoothie bowl?” He eventually said.

Nikolai pushed the phone under his nose without hesitation. “Okay. You pick what you want to order.”

Elliot nodded and focused on the phone, because it was easier than thinking about anything else. When he had picked a place and his order, he handed the phone back to Nikolai, who poked at it for a minute, choosing his own order.

“There, done,” Nikolai said when finished. He looked back up at Elliot, and then his eyes widened. “I-I did not move your things. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Elliot said. “I, um, I washed up some.”

But Nikolai was already standing, shaking his head. “No, no. I am sorry. Let me get them.”

He strode from the room, and for some reason Elliot scrambled up off the bed to follow. The sudden movement made the room spin, but he pushed himself forward. He didn’t want to lose sight of Nikolai.

He followed the man through the house and back to his old room. He paused just at the doorway, taking it in. The bed had been stripped, the mattress bare, but it was otherwise just as he had left it. Nikolai was already at the dresser, opening the drawers to get his clothing out.

He paused when he noticed Elliot had followed.

“You can rest,” he said, arms full of clothes. “I will bring it.”

“I can help.” Elliot said as he forced himself through the doorway. He went to the bathroom to collect his toothbrush and toothpaste, then, after a moment’s hesitation, went over to collect his backpack and stack of puzzle books.

Arms full of the only possessions Elliot still had, they returned to the new room.

Nikolai looked around the room, then back at Elliot as they both set their burdens down on the bed.

“You need more things,” Nikolai announced, pulling out his phone. “I will text Meredith–”

“No, wait—” Elliot reached out and touched Nikolai’s hand. “It’s been a… long day for everyone. You don’t need to bother Meredith right now. I can wait. I’m okay.”

Nikolai frowned. “Is not enough.”

Elliot licked his lips. “What’s not enough?”

“What I’m—what I’m doing for you,” Nikolai said, looking at Elliot with his blue, blue eyes. “Is not enough.”

“You… you got me out,” Elliot said. “You’re giving me a place to stay. That’s a lot.”

Nikolai shook his head. “No, is not—” He took a breath. Let it out again. “You are hurt,” Nikolai said quietly, lifting a hand to not-quite touch Elliot’s cheek. “He hurt you.”

Elliot swallowed and turned his head just enough to lean into the touch. He wanted the comfort of it.

Nikolai’s palm was warm.

***

Elliot moved slowly through the evening to hide how much he was hurting. He could tell Nikolai wanted to do something, and the last thing he wanted was more fuss being made for him. He didn’t deserve it.

Elliot would be fine. Eventually.

After dinner, Nikolai excused himself for a phone call, and Elliot retreated to his room to take a long, hot shower. He washed his body with shaking fingers and pretended that he couldn’t feel the sting between his legs or the aches of fresh bruises.

When he dragged himself out of the shower he avoided looking at the mirror. He didn’t want to see it.

Nikolai reappeared at the door when Elliot was in pajamas and tucked up in bed with Apricot, idly doing a crossword to ignore the churning spiral of self hatred waiting just in the shadows.

“I’m just—I’m wanting to ask if you’re needing anything,” Nikolai said, peeking inside the room after Elliot had given him permission to open the door. “Before I say goodnight.”

The lines of Nikolai’s body seemed to thrum with tension. As if he needed to do something for Elliot, before he could have a restful night.

On a whim, Elliot looked back at his crossword. “Do you know a five letter word for Russian crêpes?”

Nikolai stepped further into the room, obviously puzzled by the non-sequitur. “Blini?”

Elliot counted out the letters and it fit. “Thank you,” he said, writing it in.

“I am surprised you did not know,” Nikolai said, tilting his head. “You know many thing about cooking.”

It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something safe and comforting like cooking.

“I know of Russian crêpes,” Elliot said.

“But I’ve never looked up a recipe to make them.

I guess the name isn’t in my brain.” He gazed up at Nikolai, and had a distant thought that here Elliot was, in bed with a strong, powerful man standing above him, and yet he wasn’t afraid.

“Should I have made blini instead of the French crêpes?”

The corner of Nikolai's mouth quirked. “I’m would not say no, if you are up for challenge.”

Challenge?

Oh, that was right. Nikolai had said he’d had issues finding a chef that could make good Russian cuisine.

“I can do some research—” Elliot started, before remembering he had neither phone nor computer to do so.

There was a moment of silence where maybe Nikolai realized the same thing. Then, “I’m say before, but say again, you are not prisoner here,” Nikolai said, coming closer to the bed. “I will bring you new phone tomorrow. For research.”

Elliot felt the surprise lift his features.

“Oh, you—” don’t have to, he caught himself almost saying.

But a phone would be so nice to have. Just to look things up, to have access to his puzzle games again, to be able to connect with the outside world.

“Thank you,” he finished, picking at the bedspread.

He wished he could say something like I’ll pay you back, but Elliot didn’t know how.

He wasn’t working, he currently didn’t have a penny to his name.

If Nikolai did decide he was too much trouble and turned him out, Elliot didn’t—

His throat was suddenly so dry.

He didn’t know what he’d do.

“Here is TV too,” Nikolai said, gesturing to what Elliot had thought was just a large framed piece of art on the wall. “Is remote in bedside table. Something like five thousand channels I think.” Nikolai wrinkled his nose.

“Five thousand?”

Nikolai shrugged. “Meredith wanted to watch her sport teams, I do not know.”

“Oh,” Elliot said. He hadn’t really pictured the mysterious and all-powerful Meredith as someone who liked watching sports, but all Elliot really knew about her was that she was terrifyingly competent. “What, um, what are some shows you like?”

“There is show called Checklists,” Nikolai said after a second. “Is gameshow. The people who play, they have to solve puzzles.”

“Puzzles?” Elliot said, perking up. “Like what?”

“Well, eh…” Nikolai waved his hands in the air, making vague shapes. “One episode, everyone had plastic straws and tape and one egg, and they were having to build something to put the egg inside. And then drop the egg out of window, and winner was person with egg that did not break.”

Elliot felt himself smile. “That sounds fun.”

Nikolai smiled back, and Elliot’s face warmed just from having someone react—react positively to something he said. Instead of with anger. “Is fun, yes. Gerard make me watch the first time, but then I watch without him.”

“If you and Gerard both like it, it must be good,” Elliot said.

“Is easy to find, you can search it on TV,” Nikolai said. “But tomorrow maybe? Has been… long day for you. Many long days, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said quietly, setting his puzzle book and pen on the nightstand and curling an arm around Apricot. “A little.”

He watched Nikolai's eyes take in Apricot, and his face softened. “Then you sleep,” Nikolai said, voice soft. “Okay? Try to rest.”

“Okay,” Elliot said. “And… thank you. Again. For coming to get me. And letting me stay here. And—and for taking care of Apricot.” He had a sudden thought and before he could hold the words, blurted out, “Is um, is there a reason Max isn’t… here?”

Did you decide to take him away?

As soon as he said it, he cringed in on himself. It was stupid to care about a plush toy.

But he pulled Apricot closer anyway.

“Max got hurt when you were taken,” Nikolai said. He pointed to his own eye. “His eye, it got stepped on I think? So I’m having to take it back to the store to get him fixed up better. But should only be few days, they say.”

Elliot blinked, having thoroughly not expected that. “Oh. I… thank you.”

Nikolai lifted a hand, opened his mouth, and then let his hand drop back down to his side. When he spoke again, his voice still had that same soft quality. “Is not something you need thanking me for. And… is no trouble. You are not trouble.”

Elliot blinked rapidly to avoid tears. “Thank you.”

“I…” Nikolai let out a breath. “I will let you rest now. You’re needing anything, come to me, okay? Even late at night. My room is at end of hall.”

Elliot couldn’t imagine going to Nikolai's personal space and bothering him, but he nodded.

“Good,” Nikolai said. He took a step back, toward the door. “Goodnight, Elliot.”

“Goodnight,” Elliot said.

Nikolai gave him one last nod and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Elliot clicked off the lamp and shuffled down into the covers, Apricot in his arms and the plush comforter wrapped around him.

Then he burrowed his face into Apricot’s fur to muffle his sobs.