~Author's Note!~

~YuukiCross5 *peace*

Well, this is my first Fan-Fic! So please take it easy on me. I really don't mind if I receive any criticism but just don't make it too harsh that it would break my heart. I don't know what came to me but I felt that I should write my own fan-fic of Nikita since I always have ideas that pops into my brain. I really enjoy Nikita especially Mikita! So if you're a Malex fan, I advised you to not read this, but if you want too, then don't wait for my permission and just read. So, please enjoyed the story and please leave a review on what feelings you are expressing. Long or short reviews, I don't care how you put it but I always love to read other people's responses toward stories. It makes you and me feel special.

Also I want special thanks for the authors who wrote some Mikita Fan-Fic action because they inspire me to do this.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Nikita (CW Show) belongs to its original creator.

Summary: "We all wear masks. Everyone, every day. Sometimes we wear them so much, we forget who we really are. And sometimes, someone comes along and shows us who we really want to be. Who we should be." Will Michael rage toward Nikita turn to an astonishing turn? What are the consequences? What is in stored for the both of them?

~Chapter 1~

"Reality can become a Nightmare"

""We all wear masks. Everyone, every day. Sometimes we wear them so much, we forget who we really are. And sometimes, someone comes along and shows us who we really want to be. Who we should be."

Why?

I was so close and yet he got away again.

I don't care if I live. I only want revenge for my baby doll and my non-replaceable wife.

But "she" had to stop me.

It was dark like the night sky but without the glistening of the stars and the moon. He was standing alone in the middle of no-where. His eyes search frantically around the lonesome area wondering where he is. Suddenly, he hears something or at least someone. Their ragged breath also as seem the person was in pain is heard around him. Michael whipped around in the direction he thinks the person might be. The person worn out breathing was coming closer.

Their boots echoed throughout the unknown place. The sound of the boots were coming closer and sounding clearer.

Click….Clack

Click…Clack

Out of no-where a fluorescent light blinded his eyes as if he was starring at the sun itself. A shadow of a figure is casting over the light onto the ground. The figure came slowly onto the spotlight as if the person was ready to perform.

Horror and pain was written all over his burning eyes and face. Upon looking at the figure is a person who seems awfully in pain. Their eyes looked dull and life-less. The person's right cheek have a swollen, black and blue bruise. They look deathly pale, fragile, and supporting all their weight on one-side. But the worst part of all the injuries inspected on their body, near the person's collar-bone and shoulder-blade was blood gushing out. It looks like a through and through gun-shot wound. As he look down the person's bloody body, in their blood-spattered pale right hand holds a gun.

Michael looked back at the person. He just could not believe it. He just really couldn't believe that his could be actually happening. Upon looking back at the figure, it seems like his mind has been shut off on everything but only focusing on the woman before him.

"Ni..ki..ta.", he stuttered trying to force the name out at the tip of his tongue. Nikita looked at him with her life-less eyes. She has her mask on that Michael couldn't read her like a book. As his mind was shut-off, his body numb as a tree, he finally had some guts to take a right step forward. Nikita didn't move or said anything. She just stand there like a statue watching his every move like an eagle eyeing its prey.

Michael took another risk and with his left foot he step forwar…

"Don't move.", shouted Nikita as he stopped midway.

He looked at her his feelings hurt by her actions. But as Michael really looked at her in the eyes, there was something clouded behind those glassy tedious eyes that he couldn't comprehend. He just want to ran over there and hug her tight to him. But something inside him told him it would be a ghastly idea. So he stayed where he was and waited for her to give an explanation.

5 minutes pass..

Nikita didn't say anything. The only thing she ever did was stare at him with her emotional face and eyes. To him, for what seems like hours instead of minutes, so he decides to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Nikita, why? What happened?"

Shivers went through Michael's body when she decides to give him the cold shoulder. She only answered him with her cold eyes gazing at him.

"Damn it, Nikita! Say something!.". Michael was losing his patience and even though she would shout or yell at him, he would move from that spot to go to her. With that lost thought, she finally spoke.

"Don't…", she muttered.

"Don't what?," Michael replied without hesitation.

"Don't you dare start acting that you actually care!", she yelled at him with anger building up in her voice.

Michael looked at her as if he just saw a ghost.

What is she talking about? I do care. Why wouldn't I? But who did this to her? Who?

"Nikita, I do care. What happened?" Michael waited for her answer as if she was debating whether to tell him or not.

Since she didn't answer. He took two steps forward slowly. But as he took those two steps, he heard a click.

Click…

He looked her and saw Nikita pointing the gun at him.

"Didn't I said it before? Don't move!.", she said but her hands were shaking while holding the gun.

Michael choose to take the risk and took his two steps. Nothing happen yet.

"Nikita, put the gun down. Please, I want to help you. Tell me what happened.", he was begging her to explain because he is just lost. Looking at her this vulnerable is making him weaker by the second.

Nikita looked at him with bitter eyes and begin explaining it to him.

"You want to know what happened. It was my fault. My entire fault that this happened. I apologize over and over yet he didn't understand. I was defenseless yet yet..*cough* *cough*," Nikita started coughing up blood.

Michael was more concerned as ever. He was about to ran to her but she regained her composure and pointed the gun directly at him again.

"You..it is your fault! It is your fault that this has happened. I shouldn't have gone after you. I shouldn't have protect you, yet I did. Yet you lashed at me with your anger."

Her hands were red like the fire on a cold winter day as she hold the gun and her eyes danced with madness, her pupils widening into great pools of rage.

Michael looked at her feeling empty and all the color drained away from his face. No..I couldn't have done that. He was replaying her words in his head.

You…It is your fault! It is your fault that this has happened. I shouldn't have protect you, yet I did. Yet, you lashed at me with your anger.

I couldn't hurt her. I just lo-care about her. No, it's not that, I really do love her. But can this be true. No, she is just messing with my head trying to get a reaction out of me.

This time he really looked her and he never felt scared or worry in his life. Her eyes were widen with pools of rage.

"No, you're just messing with my head.", Michael replied anxious.

Nikita looked her him, "You don't believe me, look at your hands. And now see who's telling the truth."

Michael looked at his hands and this time he never felt scared in his whole life. His hands were stained with dark red blood and his knuckles are bruised as if he was seriously punching something in full anger. As he was looking at his hands, he saw something out of the corner of his eye on the ground. As he took a look at it closer. It was his gun. His American Gun.

He couldn't have done this. No. No. No. Then, that gunshot wound. No. His mind was wondering with dark thoughts and he pushed them aside. To make him-self clear. He bend down to pick up the gun to see if any bullets were gone.

His hands were shaking with fear to what results he would un-covered. He held the gun in his right hand. Carefully, he unlocked the safety and check inside for any missing bullets.

His eyes widened in alarm and rage took over him. It wasn't rage for Nikita but rage for him. Anger building toward him for what he had done.

"Oh, Nikita. What have I done?"

Nikita gaze at him and her eyes softened for a bit but returned to the cold gaze he held at him.

"I don't know if I should forgive you. I don't know If I should tell you that I am fine. But for one thing for sure are you going to forgive yourself."

Michael compelled on what she just told him. Will he forgive himself for what he had done? If it wasn't for his anger toward her for stopping him from getting Kasim. All of this wouldn't have happened. But for Michael, it took alot of guts for him to accept or give forgiveness. It was his pride holding him back.

"I don't know. I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever hurt you."

Nikita lowered her gun a slightly bit and look straight through him.

" We all wear masks. Everyone, every day. Sometimes we wear them so much, we forget who we really are. And sometimes, someone comes along and shows us who we really want to be. Who we should be. But if you aren't willing to forgive yourself, how am I suppose to forgive you." said Nikita aimed her gun at Michael.

Michael looked at her in horror, not knowing what to do.

"I have always loved you yet hiding our feelings seems better off to saying them at the end."

"What are you talking about Nikita? This is not the end. This can't be.", Michael said with unshed tears at the corners of his eyes threatening to fall.

"Goodbye Michael.", with that she pulled the trigger.

Michael felt as he was falling or rather drowning into water. His lungs were beginning to fill with water letting no air come in. He continue to drown..drown..drown…as everything finally turned pitch black.

Michael woke up with a start. His palms were covered with sweat and he could feel his heart thumping from his chest.

His thoughts drift absently toward one figure.

Nikita

Just ask he was collecting his thoughts to what dream he just have. His cell-phone was ringing.

He picked up the phone from his nightstand and answered with a tired voice.

"Michael."

"Good morning to you Michael."

"Birkhoff, it is three in the morning. What do you need?"

"Sorry Michael but Percy is calling you in. He wants to speak to you."

Percy, at this time.

"Okay, tell him I'll be there." With that said, Michael closed his phone and put it back at the nightstand. He wanted to sleep more since that dream or nightmare he should said kept him up during the night.

Without any complaints, Michael picked himself up from his bed and started walking to his bathroom. As he was walking toward his bathroom, he wonders to what Nikita to him in his dream was true.

" We all wear masks. Everyone, every day. Sometimes we wear them so much, we forget who we really are. And sometimes, someone comes along and shows us who we really want to be. Who we should be. But if you aren't willing to forgive yourself, how am I suppose to forgive you." said Nikita as she aimed her gun at Michael.

Will he ever forgive himself if he ever hurt her? He just don't know what to think when it comes to Nikita but he know something for sure, they are bound to meet up again with their guns pointing at each other. But with only one of them coming back alive.

With that, he went into the bathroom and get himself ready for a cold shower. As to thinking how reality can become a nightmare.