Echoes

Disclaimer: I do not own Nikita. This is a work of fanfiction for entertainment, not profit.

...

She doesn't think she's worth saving.

It's the way she looks, all deer in the headlights, dark, brooding, and melancholy, alternating between wanting to make something of herself and making herself nothing. It's the way that curtain of brown hair is simultaneously a buffer and a weapon against Division's the eerily iridescent hallways and the masks we ask her to wear as if we offer choices instead of ultimatums. Alex simple locks and unlocks different versions of herself when Amanda (supposedly) isn't looking like we can magic ourselves into other people and not leave any residues of who we really are behind.

Amanda thinks Alex is like a nesting doll, but I think of the different Alexes as facets of a mirror, more impressionist than chiaroscuro.

There's brave Alex who takes on half-trained operatives with only a fork and sheer will in the cafeteria. Determined Alex who stares down nerd every time he waxes poetic about some technical specification that I still can't translate into English. Righteous Alex whenever we embark on one of Percy's for hire jobs that skirt or trample the line between right and wrong. Inquisitive Alex whenever I have to not-so-gently steer her away from becoming emotionally attached to targets or- worse- Nathan (because who else better for the job, right?). Perfectionist Alex who haunts the gym and the computer lab after hours because she's afraid of being left behind...or something like that.

Connecting all of those is vulnerable Alex, who wonders if she truly belongs or even deserves to belong.

That Alex doesn't think she's worth saving.

But I do, because someone like her saved me once.

...

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