I. Help

"I can't make this long, Mallorie. I have places to go, things to do, because I thought everything was answered already. After everything that has happened, everything I have done…I thought I found the answer. I've learned something though—thoughts don't count anymore, or maybe they never even did at all. Whatever it is, I still don't have an answer and I have a feeling that I never will find it...But it doesn't matter any more. I just want to say…I'm sorry."

II. Guilt

The cathedral's shadow loomed over him as he whipped around and before he knew it, gun shots went off and bullets buzzed past him.

"ROMAN!" Mallorie cried.

Niko didn't need to look over to figure out what had happened. He saw the blood dripping off of his hands...Roman's blood. It was caked on, trapped under his already dirty nails and filling the cracks in his hands. He tried to wipe it off on his pants, but it only continued to paint the pavement burgundy. Everyone was staring at him, and for once he didn't blame them—everything was his fault.

III. Insomnia

He tossed and turned, clutching the musty sheets between his gnarly fingers and abruptly sitting up. He shook his head, trying to ignore the faint outline jeering at him and laughing with a bitter satisfaction from the end of the bed. He glared at it, he tried to scream and make it go away, but there it stood, a distinct figure in the emptiness.

"I was right…you know I was. You're a fool, Niko Bellic," Dimitri said, his fingers ghosting the end of the bed, tracing circles along the metal frame.

Niko could only throw his pillow across the room.

IV. Numb

His black suit felt like a thousand pounds on him as he fell to his knees, smashing his head against the wall. He wanted to feel like a person with a soul again, if he ever had one. After all, he had just lost everything that meant something for him and ended what was left over: Roman, Kate, Dimitri…He should have been more present for those who were still left, not stuck inside his head like the selfish idiot he was, yet he couldn't help but feel numb as he wiped the blood away from the gash on his forehead.

V. Concern

"Niko, man, everyone is worried about you," Little Jacob's voice cut in on the answering machine, his accent more garbled than usual. "You haven't picked up the phone since Roman's funeral and Mallorie says you haven't been around lately to sort out his paperwork. Where are you? I can't help but wonder if you're dead or somewhat or other. You—"

"I don't know," Niko said abruptly, deleting the message. He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket, leaving it on the counter as he walked out the door. "There's nothing to worry about now, I suppose."

VI. Love

The rain matted his clothes down onto his shoulders as he slowly pointed his pistol towards Dimitri. The man's glazed eyes looked up at him, blood bubbling between his lips as he coughed. "What reason…do you do this? Will it fix things?"

"…You don't deserve my answers."

The bullet went off and speckles of blood and brain matter made the grass go grey under their touch. Niko loved the way Dimitri lay there, writhing in pain as he made his final breaths, so he pulled the trigger again and again, laughing as he watched more blood stain the grass.

VII. Tears

He was young, he was stupid and he had no idea what he was doing. He forgot who he was then—if he was sane, he would have remembered that those people had their own families and that they had their own hopes. As he looked down at Roman's gravestone, he remembered their screams as he held the gun to their heads and how he'd hear their skulls crack as the bullets went through, and then he could only think of why Roman would be able to look at this monster and see not a fucking creature, but his cousin.

VIII. Still

Niko parked the car, leaning into his seat and letting his eyes roll into the back of his head, fingering the lighter in his pocket. Alderney had already been a sorry sight for his eyes, but tonight it brought back more feelings than the usual drive through and he hated how that despite Dimitri's death, it didn't seem to be enough. However, he found himself unable to move. His just stared at the sunset hitting the water, looking at the fire on top of the waves and wondering what it would be like to run his hand through the embers.

IX. Need

He wanted Dimitri under his grip once more, to feel the collar of that creep's coat under his fingers as he pinned him onto the wall, smashing his head in and cracking his ribs. He wanted to dig his nails into the Russian's clammy skin, leaving nail marks and bruises around his neck. He wanted to take a knife and twist it, watching the blood soak into the fabric. Dimitri would resort to begging, wishing that Niko finish him off. Meanwhile he would only lean into Dimtri's ear and whisper softly as he prolonged the pain.

X. Family

Everybody worried about Niko too much. Why did Mallorie insist that Niko stay around, despite the fact that his therapy sessions were failing? Why did Brucie get all serious whenever Niko mentioned leaving Liberty City? Why did Bernie/Florian keep saying that things were going to be okay? Why did Little Jacob want to be his friend? He honestly didn't get it at the moment. He knew once upon a time, he did, and that he was part of this strange little family of misfits. Now, however, he couldn't help but feel like a complete outcast.

XI. Struck

He walked up towards the cliff, realizing he had figured out how he could stop hurting his loved ones. He swallowed back any fear he had, staring into the abyss below with a storm in his heart that he hadn't felt since Roman had first been shot.

And then he plunged.

The water felt luscious as it rose over his head and leaked through his lips. His eyes dropped shut as he let the embrace of the liquid lull him to sleep, much like the old lullabies his mother used to sing to him as a child.

AN: Yes, I realize I ignored the Bulgarin side-story. xDDD