Page 168 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Nikolai didn’t bother wasting breath on threatening him back. Instead, he grabbed Vitale’s hand and smashed it as hard as he could into the floor, over and over again, feeling the bones break with a sick sense of satisfaction. These were hands that had hurt Elliot, and Nikolai was going to make Vitale regret evertouching him. Make it so that Vitale could never touch Elliot ever again.

Vitale yelled and twisted his body, bringing his elbow up and driving it toward Nikolai’s face. Nikolai couldn’t risk getting a hit on his already broken nose, and so he threw himself to the side, but it unbalanced him and Vitale, a big man in his own right, was able to use his leverage to roll them over.

Vitale grinned down at him and raised—the knife he’d grabbed from where it’d fallen when they’d crashed into the chair in their tussle.

Distantly, Nikolai heard Elliot scream.

But Nikolai wasn’t out yet, not by a long shot. As the knife came down, Nikolai threw up his arm to catch the blade with his forearm. The pain was a hot slash through the fabric and into skin, but he’d been trained on worse, and it only sharpened his focus. His other hand shot out and grabbed at Vitale’s broken hand, squeezing savagely.

Vitale shrieked and reared backwards, and Nikolai followed the motion. He sat up and pushed forward, punching Vitale hard in the side of the head as his other hand closed around the wrist still holding the knife.

“I’m going to fucking cut you to pieces,” Vitale snarled, trying to stab with the knife. But Nikolai locked his arm and kept the blade away from his body, even as blood from his wounded arm dripped everywhere. He fisted a hand in Mattia’s hair, driving his head down into the floor hard.

Fuck, he hoped Elliot wasn’t watching this.

Vitale bucked up, screaming and flailing underneath him, and Nikolai saw too late him bringing his broken hand up, right into Nikolai’s face.

The pain of his broken nose getting jarred again was blinding. Nikolai blinked stars out of his eyes, spitting blood out of his mouth, just in time to see the knife descend again.He threw up his injured arm just in time for another wet slice of the blade through skin. Mentally he discarded the pain and managed to roll out of the way, missing another knifing and—

And spotted Vitale’s gun on the floor, where Nikolai had caused him to drop it.

Nikolai dove forward, blood hot in his mouth, smeared on his hands, as he snatched up the gun. He turned to face Vitale, who was spitting curses, madness completely eclipsing his expression.

“Elliot, close your eyes!” Nikolai commanded, not taking his eyes of Vitale.

Vitale’s eyes narrowed, so much like a predator ready to pounce. His hand tightened on the blood-covered knife. Nikolai saw the moment, knew he couldn’t wait.

Vitale let out a roar and went to spring at him, knife out, and Nikolai pulled the trigger.

Everything stopped.

The body in front of him slumped to the ground, still and silent. Nikolai held the position, hand clenched tight around the gun for a long second, then two. Waiting to see if Vitale would move again. It’d been a perfect shot, but his training held him there.

But blood kept pooling out from the body and Nikolai’s shoulders finally slumped. It was done.

Panting, Nikolai watched himself engage the gun’s safety. He rose slowly to standing on uncertain legs. His heart was pounding and he still felt on high alert for danger.

He turned to scan the room and found Elliot curled up back behind the table, eyes closed and hands over his ears. Even from the distance Nikolai could see he was shaking.

It took three strides to reach him. He put himself between Elliot and the sight of the body, set the gun on the floor, and then reached down to touch Elliot’s shoulder.

“Is now safe,” Nikolai murmured, voice rough. “You’re safe.”

Elliot’s pretty hazel eyes opened, now red and puffy from crying. He caught himself on a sob and listed forward, and Nikolai immediately bent and wrapped his arms around him, holding tight. Elliot turned into him, collapsing against his chest, sobbing.

“Is okay, is okay,” he said into Elliot’s hair. Nikolai squeezed him, and felt sorry about the blood transferring to Elliot’s clothes. Sorry about the horror Elliot had just gone through.

What Elliot had almost been made to do.

What he’d been willing to do, for Nikolai’s sake.

Fuck,Nikolai didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve the goodness of this man.

Behind him, he heard the sound of the door opening. Tension snapped back into him and his hand reached automatically for the gun.

“Get behind me,” Nikolai told Elliot, pulling away and slipping off the safety. “Stay low and quiet, okay? And don’t look. You should not have to see.”

Elliot covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide and filling with tears as he nodded hurriedly.

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