A tremor had started to take root in Niles' balled fists. But those hands on top of his, familiar and soft, seemed to ease it away. Niles took one slow breath, then another. He was weak for even allowing it to happen in the first place. He'd survived battles, he could take on three men with shotguns, couldn't he?

"He...urinated on me...called it a metaphor..." He closed his eyes, letting out an unsteady breath. He tried to focus on those hands over his, trying to let them comfort him.