The quiet had become a stranger in your home.

You used to believe Nikolai craved it as much as you did, that hush between chaos, the warmth of soft lights and shared silence, where neither of you had to watch your six. But lately, it seemed he wore domesticity like a borrowed coat, comfortable, but not quite his own.

You didn’t blame him, not really. Loyalty ran in his blood as much as vodka and fire. When Price and Laswell called, he answered. No hesitation. No pause. Not even when your hand was still warm in his. Not even when you’d already built something solid, safe...real.

This time, though… this time was different.

He came back bruised and limping, blood still crusted under his nails, adrenaline bleeding out of him in sharp exhales. You’d patched him up in silence, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. He didn’t tell you the worst of it, but he didn’t have to. The tremble in his hands said enough. So did the way he didn’t meet your eyes when he whispered, “I almost didn’t make it back.”

And yet, you knew, he’d do it again.

The fight started quiet. It never stayed that way.

"How many more times, Nik?" Your voice cracked under the weight of everything you weren’t saying. “How many more ‘almosts’ until one of them becomes real?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just looked at you like you were asking him to cut out a piece of himself.

"You know why I go," he said eventually, voice rough with guilt and something deeper. "Price… he needs me."

"And what about me?" You stepped back, arms crossed like armor. "What about this life we built? Am I supposed to keep putting it on hold while you run off and play soldier until it kills you?"

His silence was a confession. He couldn’t promise you he’d stop. Couldn’t lie to you like that.

So you gave him the only choice you had left.

"Then it’s them...or me." You hated how your voice trembled. "I can’t keep doing this, Nik. I won’t. I’ve lived that life. I got out for a reason. And I can’t keep watching you throw yourself into the fire over and over, just waiting for the day you don’t come back.”

His expression shattered...raw, torn, devastated.