Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Dedication: boredom

A/N: I struggled with this. You know, writer's block, practice, all these movies I want to see…

Type: extended timeline

Title: Sometimes They Shine, Other Times They Blink

Summary: He finally admits to the thing she'd always suspected.

X-X-X-X-X

It was late, she realized, and she should probably get to bed.

She wasn't going to. But she should.

She pressed her back against the wall, resting her head against it.

"You're upset with me."

She didn't respond to her husband.

He sighed. "What is it?"

"You know what it is."

Nicholas sighed again, rubbing his face with both hands.

"But I know you don't want to tell me," she said. Mia never knew why he was so guarded, why he only occasionally let himself be known to her.

Nicholas nodded slowly. "You're right. I don't." He arched his back, and she heard a few small pops. "But I've kept it to myself for too long."

Mia remained silent. Nicholas did the same.

The night outside was cool, the trace of stars peeking through the window. She mentally outlined the constellations that Nicholas had taught her, recalling the names of some of the stars. The air smelled sharp, and every so often, Mia could hear the wind outside.

Joe had once mentioned to Mia (off-handedly, of course) that Mia was the day and Nicholas was the night – most, if not all things were apparent with Mia: her thoughts, her feelings, her desires, her worries. Everything that had ever been Mia was available for all to see, and only in the private sections of her life did she care to cast a shadow.

Nicholas, however…

He was very careful about where he let his light shine. He usually chose safe places to tread: an unshared fear or a forgotten want. These occasions weren't frequent; rather, the were rarer than the days during which he shed no light.

And tonight, outside, just as with Nicholas, the moon was forgotten, and the stars provided the light.

Mia cast a glance over her shoulder to find that the stars outside were not burning intensely; in fact, only a few offered a feeble light. She could have laughed at the symbolism.

Nicholas, meanwhile, was picking at his fingernails. "I told you about my cut earlier." He licked his lips and glanced at his wife. She wasn't looking at him, and judging by the thin line of her lips, she was going to be angry for a considerable amount of time.

"You did," she said with a nod.

He absently reached up and touched the cut on his cheek. "And I told you it was from a riding accident."

"You did."

He didn't know what was worse: the lack of concern in her voice or the simmering anger that was about to erupt. He deserved it, he knew, but for the first time, he wanted to hear the worry in her voice. He hadn't told her anything relating to any injuries of his as of late, and her mind had jumped to the worst possible conclusions.

He couldn't blame her.

"I lied."

"I know."

Nicholas sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I went to see my uncle today."

Mia furrowed her eyebrows, looking to Nicholas and wondering how that had any relevance to how her husband had been hurt. "Okay?"

Nicholas leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "I went to tell him that I forgave him, that I still loved him." He let out a bitter laugh. "And he wanted none of it."

Mia sat up straighter, turning her body to her husband. She gently reached out and brushed her fingers over his scars. "He did this to you?"

Nicholas didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Though she'd always suspected it, the admission felt like a punch to the stomach. "For how long?" she asked, unable to conceal her trembling voice.

Nicholas's jaw tightened. "Since I was seven."

Mia covered her mouth with a shaking hand as the tears began to fall down her cheeks. No, she thought. No, no, no, no, no. What-why?

He bent his head and scratched the tip of his nose. "I tried not to be like him." Before Mia could interject and say he wasn't like his uncle, – as he knew she would – he continued. "But I was. I –" he licked his lips, and Mia's hand found his, and he finally looked at her. His voice was a whisper. "I hurt people, Mia."

Nicholas closed his eyes to the barrage of images that rose to the surface. He drew in a shaky breath. "I broke women's hearts for the sake of it. I verbally abused Gretchen." His next words were so quiet that Mia almost didn't hear them. "I almost beat her."

Oh.

"And I've been trying so hard to just let that part of me die, to just…" he trailed off before redirecting his words. "But every day, I remember all over again, and it's like I'm trying to breathe underwater, desperately reaching for help, but…" he shook his head. "No one's there."

Mia cupped his cheek with her free hand. "It's okay, Nicholas; it's all going to be okay."

He shook his head again but didn't pull away from her touch. "It's not, Mia. I hurt people, and I kept that from you."

"Nicholas." Her voice was firm. "Nicholas, look at me."

He did. His blue eyes were intense, but for the first time, she saw the hurt that had always been lying underneath.

"Nicholas, who you were is not who you are. You've made mistakes, and you have your demons."

"But –"

Mia shook her head. "I'm not done. What you did certainly wasn't right, but you've been trying to make amends, and that's a good thing. I can't forgive you for them, and truth be told, it's probably going to be difficult for them to do so." She sighed. "And I don't think I'm ever going to understand why you did what you did, but it's in the past."

He was silent, and she could practically see the mental war he was fighting.

She squeezed his hand, and her voice was gentle. "I promised to love you for better or for worse."

"Mia, I hurt you!" He was fighting tears now, and she wondered why she had never seen his brokenness before.

He leaned his head back against the wall. His voice was strained – not because of the positioning of his head, but because of the onslaught of emotions. "I hurt you, Mia, and I didn't have to. I hurt you," he bit his lower lip in an attempt to compose himself, "and I can't forgive myself."

And she realized, finally, what it was – he was merely a man, and he was trying to carry the weight of the entire world upon his shoulders. The burden had forced him to his knees, and he wasn't capable of standing back up.

Mia wiped away a few stray tears. "Did he," she began, "force you to try and take the throne?"

Nicholas shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. "Everything I did, I did of my own free –"

"Did he," Mia's voice was firmer now, "force you?"

Nicholas hesitated, and the pause was long enough to confirm her fears. He took a trembling breath and shook his head. "No. But I was so scared of him that he might as well have." He took his hand from Mia's and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God, I'm such a coward."

She pulled him into her arms, and he held her close while she desperately hoped he could hear the words she was unable to say.

You are the bravest man I've ever met.