Loss
Disclaimer: I don't own Nikita
Her dark hair fell into swimming eyes as she closed the door to her room, sliding down the smooth door. Dry, broken sobs built in her chest as she wrapped an arm around her torso. Coherent thoughts did not form and she tried to take a breath, her panic and disbelief preventing any oxygen intake. Flashes of the chaos bombarded her mind, replaying it over and over. She couldn't move and she fought for a breath, a terrible retching sound tearing through her grief-stricken sobs. Pure, unmitigated panic rose in her chest and tightened its grip, clenching her heart. Alex was in a state where she was unaware of her reactions, her cries, her screams, her pleading. She writhed against the loss. How could this have happened? This couldn't be real. It was all her fault. An angry wave crashed over her and she lashed out at the steel door, her strikes desperate and disorganized. Crying out, she hit the door with both fists, opening her hands and sliding down again. Her furious energy plummeted and she collapsed to the hard floor, pulling herself into a corner, trying to hold the pieces together. She didn't hear the door open and she didn't see the woman walk in, her eyes wide and red-rimmed.
Alex let her head hit the wall beside her a few times as she continued to fight for a full breath and Nikita felt like someone had punched her in the gut. The scene in front of her broke her heart. This girl...her protégé, her best friend, her sister...the pain she was in overwhelmed the assassin. A girl with strength beyond anything Nikita had ever seen reduced to someone huddled in a corner unable to breathe, unable to process. A trauma that overrode any rational thought. Nikita's entire being crumbled at the sight. Pressing a shaking hand to her mouth, she took a few slow steps forward. She had no idea how to comfort her. The guilt coursing through her made it difficult to kneel down and pull the broken girl into her arms, knowing she could have prevented all this pain...but she had to do something. Alex let the arms surround her and she cried, air still not completely filling her lungs. She felt hands: smoothing her hair, rubbing her back...and soft tones resembling words she couldn't understand. Nikita felt warm tears stream down her face and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat when she saw Alex's bleeding knuckles. She knew there was nothing she could say...nothing she could do. So she just held her, praying for easier breaths, praying for sleep. Nikita knew this feeling; knew it too well. The scars remained and she bitterly wondered why this sweet, loving, devoted girl had to go through all of this - why Alex was so much like her. Why was she destined to suffer through constant loss and brokenness? Nikita wished she could take away the pain. She wished she could take it on herself...if only she could spare Alex this agony. When her breathing evened out a little, Nikita felt her sit up. Her eyes were still streaming and they were dull. Nikita reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind the girl's ear, her touch tender and understanding. A darkness encompassed the younger girl's expression and dread filled Nikita's chest. She knew that look. It was dangerous and Nikita shook her head slightly, keeping eye contact with the Russian girl.
Alex slowly wiped her raw eyes and set her jaw, staring into Nikita's fierce gaze. Taking a few slow breaths, she stood up, Nikita following suit. The older agent shook her head again and grabbed Alex firmly by the shoulders. Alex swallowed and straightened her posture, her demeanor quickly shifting from broken to angry.
"Alex..." Nikita knew this feeling too. And she knew it didn't lead to a place of peace or closure...it led to more pain and more emptiness.
"This was all my fault..." Alex whispered this, her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor. Flashes of Sean and the blood and the pain assaulted her mind and she winced as if she'd been struck in the face. When she looked up, she saw her mentor shake her head and the sorrow in her eyes. It made Alex uncomfortable and slightly bitter. The hint of anger that reared its ugly head surprised her and she knew what she had to do.
"No. Alex, no it wasn't. Please don't." Alex didn't know how Nikita knew exactly what she was going to do but she didn't have time to analyze it. The young Russian backed out of Nikita's grasp and turned around. "Alex!" Her tone was desperate; pleading.
"I'm sorry...for everything." With that, Alex strided out of the room. Nikita didn't stop the tears that began streaming from her eyes or the regret that made her lower herself on the bed. Nikita knew she couldn't stop her. If Alex wanted to go, she couldn't keep her against her will. But that didn't mean she'd let her go without backup. Determination in her step, Nikita made her way to Ops, where she filled in the rest of the team and formed a plan. They would get their Alex back. No matter what.