Niles flinches at the sudden movement, hard enough to shift his chair back slightly. He watches Gabe's face, something twisting deep in his gut. That look wasn't something he liked. He'd seen it before, and he was no more accustomed to it than the first time. In his more lucid moments, he started to wonder if Gabe somehow liked it when Niles was forced to suffer. But he always dismissed it. They just coped with the traumas of war differently, right?

Instead, Niles focused on the tone. That's what he needed to hear. The concern. That he'd lacked after that day. "Bandits attacked my roller a few days ago. They killed several of my men. I tried to take them down, but..." his hands, resting on the desk, curled into tight fists, his gazed fixed on them. "...I was out numbered. And they..." He took a slow breath, reminding himself that Gabe would understand that he wasn't weak. "...made me strip. Down to my boxers. Threw me face-first into the dirt and..." His lips twisted as he tried to swallow. He couldn't even say it, what that bandit had done to him.