One thing Niklaus had learned after a year-and-a-half on the job was when to walk away. Whether it was just him losing perspective, or that he was risking death by staying on the mission any longer than what was necessary, he knew when it was time to abandon ship and get as far away from it as he could.

It wasn’t that he was in a particularly dire place, or even that his life was being threatened in any way, but his mind, his thoughts, his sanity…he felt like he was losing it.

All because of the girl fast asleep tucked into his side.

How had another week already passed them by? Niklaus could still remember flying out for London, helping an associate with an extraction job just six months ago because he had felt he had gotten too close to Reagan.

From the curve of her smile when she saw him, or how they fit together like two puzzle pieces when she was by his side…he had enjoyed it, the time he spent with her, and though he had been a little reluctant the first time around, he still had been able to leave her without thinking too much on it.

But now, lying next to her, feeling the way her chest rose and fell against his side, how her dainty hand rested against his chest, her fingers nearly touching one of the stars he had inked on his chest, Niklaus knew it was time to leave again.

He didn’t know when things had shifted between them, or rather, when it had finally shifted for him. He’d been content with using her for his own selfish needs, releasing pent up aggression that constantly hounded him.

Except now, he was beginning to crave more of her. Her time. Her attention. Everything.

He just wanted her…

Already, she had called off twice from that job of hers just so she could spend more time with him, and instead of dissuading her, he had been silently glad that she had.

Niklaus was beginning to realize it was no longer just a hookup to him. He actually liked her.

And knowing that, even without having ever spoken those words aloud made the delicate gold chain around his neck to feel a little heavier.

He knew the impossible task he was undertaking, his debts, and obligations. Though he had already killed three so far, he knew without a doubt that the others, those that were in higher positions in their respective organizations, wouldn’t be nearly as easy, especially when so few of them came stateside where he had the advantage.

This obligation to Sarah was the reason he had accepted Z’s offer in the first place, allowing the man to mold and transform him into the very person he needed to be to get the job done.

So if this was what he gave his life and identity to be, why was he fucking around? When he wasn’t working towards the goal, making sure that he finally brought an end to the men that tortured without care, he felt like he was failing at the one thing he should have been able to do.

The last thing he needed to be doing was relaxing, letting his guard down, and enjoying the company of someone like Reagan.

That wasn’t what he deserved.

It was because of him that Sarah had died so brutally, and worse, only he knew the truth of this. Her family still mourned the daughter they lost, his disappearance long forgotten by all except his mother.

Only once had he had the courage to venture back to that place in the dead of night, peeking through the windows of his old family home just to catch a single, quick glance at her.

Maybe it was ritual. Maybe he had caught her in a reflective mood, but she’d been sitting in the rocking chair, holding a picture of the pair of them, her eyes sad as she regarded them.

How easy it would have been, knocking on the door, letting her know that he was fine, that there was no reason for her to be sad anymore.

He could still remember the self-control it had taken for him to content himself with just the reminder of her face before he slipped back out into the night.

Some could still have a family—sometimes their assignments were actually sanctioned by various governments—but for Niklaus, whose introduction to the Den had been as brutal as it was, he couldn’t ever see anyone from his previous life.

And that led for a lonely existence.

That, on the other hand, he did deserve.

He didn’t want, or need, anyone else getting hurt because of him.

Slipping out of the bed, knowing that Reagan slept like the dead, he walked over to the small closet, reaching for the book bag he had thrown up there earlier. Maybe some part of him had known that he needed to leave, otherwise, why would he have stopped by one of his drop-spots and packed it full of bills he had on hand. He’d sat and counted it all out, making sure he had the exact amount that she said she needed to open up the place of her dreams.

No, Niklaus realized belatedly. It wasn’t because he was planning on skipping out on her again that he had gathered up the money. He had wanted to give it to her, hopefully see a smile—even as she asked him where he got it from—and be glad that he was finally able to give someone something. But he knew that it could never be like that. Not when she could be hurt just by his association with her. Once again, he found himself leaving another piece behind.

Why had he ever entertained the idea in the first place? He and Reagan could never be anything more than what they were, and he knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

Never mind another case of mistaken identity, after the things he had seen, and the men he had crossed, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t be hurt, and then the next time around, he would have no one else to blame but himself.

Not her too…he couldn’t have her on his conscience.

Dressing quickly, he packed what little he had left in the room, scanning to make sure, leaving the book bag on the table for her to find in the morning.

As he was leaving, Niklaus turned back at the last moment, drifting to her side. He smoothed her hair back out of her face, gently so as not to wake her. Tracing her face with his eyes, he pressed a kiss to the center of her forehead, another light one to her lips, then drew back.

There was no farewell, not even in his thoughts as he backed away.

Though he knew it was, he still didn’t want this to be the end.

Not yet.

---

Before she had even opened her eyes, Reagan knew he was gone. She could feel it in the chill of the air, the way the silence of the room seemed to try and swallow her whole.

She turned, reaching out anyway, finding the spot where Niklaus had lain before empty and cold. It shouldn’t have bothered her—it wasn’t like this was the first time he had done it.

But as she sat up, holding the sheet to her chest looking around at how barren the place felt without his presence, it felt like her heart was fracturing.

It had only taken mere days for her to recall why exactly she had missed him so much. She should have known better. Once should have been enough for her to know not to give him more, to be careful with her feelings and thoughts and dreams.

Her gaze landed on the bag, the lone item in the room that didn’t belong to the motel and she hadn’t brought along.

Maybe Niklaus had forgotten it in his haste to get away from her…

Before, she might not have looked, would have held onto it in hopes that he would come back looking for it.

She would still hold onto it now, but not before she had a look inside.

Tearing at the zips, she tugged them down, pulling at the edges of it to look inside, and promptly blinked, just to make sure she was seeing correctly.

With a shaky hand, she reached in, pulling out one stack of twenty-dollar bills, another of hundreds, and even some in fifties. Reagan didn’t even realize she was dumping the money out of the bag as she tried to make out what she was seeing, but it wasn’t until she got to the change in the very bottom of the bag that she got an idea.

She could not have been sure, she had only mentioned it in passing, just an afterthought in the conversation they’d had, but as she sat at the table, counting each bill, tallying the numbers up in her head, and by the end of it, it felt like he had taken her breath away all over again.

$167,852.36 exactly…

This wasn’t a mistake on his part, but a goodbye.

He wasn’t coming back.