TITLE: Strength
AUTHOR: DramaLexy
SUMMARY: "We live with two amazingly strong women," I commented to Birkhoff. "How many times did Nikki have to kick your ass sparring before you learned that one?" Michael POV at the end of 2x18-Power. My first Nikita story.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Nikita (just borrowing the characters for a bit!)
Nikita and I were the first ones to make it back to our hastily set up base of operations in Moscow; Alex came in the door a couple hours later after taking care of some Zetrov business. Now that Ari was out in the cold, it looked like the young Ms. Udinov's wishes for her father's company could start to take shape. And our little foursome was free to continue our work.
Once everything had been packed up, we headed for the airport where Birkoff's jet was waiting to take us back to the US. It was pretty refreshing to know that, for once, we didn't have to get out of a country as fast as possible. We had successfully completed our mission, but there was no one was chasing after us trying to kill us. And I knew that was probably a good thing, since both Nikita and Alex seemed pretty close to being dead on their feet. It had been an very rough night for my girlfriend, and her protégé had been through a lot recently, too.
"Hey, let me take that," I told Nikita when I saw her wince slightly as she tried to lift a case with her left arm. Earlier in the night, she'd been able to ignore the cracked ribs she'd been left with after her first encounter with Amanda, but now the adrenaline had worn off.
However, Nikita shook her head. "I've got it," she protested.
I sighed; my girl was was nothing if not stubborn. So many people throughout her life had taught her over and over never to show weakness. At times like this, I really regretted the fact that I was one of the people on that list. Luckily, I could be stubborn, too.
Standing behind her, I took the handle of the case in my left hand. "Nikita," I whispered in her ear, "I'm here. Let me help you." I knew her trust in our partnership had been shaken a bit by recent events, but I was doing everything I could to make it up to her. I wasn't going anywhere. Life without her wasn't an option.
She hesitated for a moment, but let go of the box. While I went to put it in the plane's cargo hold, she stepped over to Alex and wrapped her right arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "Come on," Nikita told her, and led her toward the steps up to the jet.
Alex had valiantly been trying to take a page from her mentor's book and not let her exhaustion show, but it was as obvious to me as Nikita's pain from her injury. She gave Nikita a weary, grateful smile as they headed up into the plane. Both of them had lost a lot in their lives, but I was grateful they had each other again.
Alex, predictably, was out cold before the plane's wheels even left the ground. She'd curled up on one of the couches with her head in Nikita's lap. I draped a blanket over her before I sat back to watch them from my seat on the opposite side of the plane.
In sleep, Alex looked as innocent as she probably had the night her father had been murdered and her world was shattered. Her adolescence had definitely consisted of the best and worst in life. I was proud of her for choosing to continue this fight instead of going into hiding with her mother, but part of me wondered if it was really the right choice. I'd been protective of her since the day she arrived at Division, and I didn't think that was going to change anytime soon. After everything, she deserved more than this life. It was our fault that she'd fallen into this world in the first place.
Nikita was absent-mindedly playing with Alex's long, brown hair while she stared out the window at nothing, her mind moving just as fast as the jet. I knew that this was a beginning and an end for her. The end of her long quest to put right what she had done to the Udiovs, Alex in particular. The end of her struggle with Ari Taserov and Gogol. The beginning of having Alex back in her life without having to share her with Division. The beginning of a new battle with Amanda.
I figured that the last of those was what consumed Nikita's thoughts. Once upon a time, Amanda had been a type of mother to us all. A somewhat deranged one who often had very unorthodox ways of showing her 'love', but a mother nonetheless. Nikita had been looking for love - looking to feel worthy of love - for her entire life. When she arrived at Division, she was craving a mother's love most of all, and I knew that I'd fed her to a wolf.
I'd fed a lot of really screwed up kids to that malicious wolf. Some of them had gotten eaten. If it had been me in Nikita's place, I probably wouldn't have given Amanda the opportunity to go home and continue messing up more lives. I was pretty sure Nikita would have trouble coming to terms with the fact that she'd allowed Amanda's soul-killing work to go on. I wasn't even sure what to say to her about it. Was there a way to make that better? How long would we have to wait for another chance to set things right?
I didn't remember falling asleep, but I did. When I woke up, we'd already landed, and neither Birkhoff nor I had the heart to awaken Nikita or Alex. I carried each of them out to the waiting SUV, and then into their bedrooms once we arrived back at the house. I was glad to see that they had felt safe enough to let their guards down and get some well-deserved rest.
My mind was too busy to go back to sleep, and I discovered there was almost nothing in the house to eat (typical Birkhoff) so I ran out to do some early-morning shopping. By the time I got back, put everything away, and started a load of laundry, Alex was up and watching TV in the kitchen. ENN had a report on about Zetrov's new CEO.
"I am honored to accept this responsibility," Ilya was saying as I entered the kitchen. "First and foremost, I would like all of Russia to know, from those that use our energy to those who invest in our company..."
Alex had a faraway look in her eye as she watched the screen. "Seller's remorse?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I never wanted that future." And I realized she really meant it. She'd loved her father, loved her childhood in Russia, but she'd never bought into the predetermined plans for her life. Despite that, though, she still looked like she was about to cry. "A part of me still feels like I let my father down," Alex softly admitted.
"I think he would be proud of you," I told her. She never should have had to sacrifice her desires for his vision. Maybe she wasn't cut out to run his company, but she hadn't forgotten what he'd taught her. Those lessons had kept her alive. And she hadn't made light of the decision of who to hand over Nikolai's legacy to. "Levkin's a good choice."
Alex looked back up at the TV, and a smile crossed her face. "Definitely better than the last one."
With that little joke, I knew she was going to be okay. She had her weaknesses, but we were there to cover those. And she definitely had her strengths. So many lesser men and women would have crumbled after going through what she had. Had Nikita been able to imagine, all those years ago, that saving Alex's life would allow her to grow up into such a young woman? I liked to think so. She'd always been good at seeing people's potential.
Alex picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "Were you the one who went food shopping?" she asked. I nodded. "THANK you. Beer and popcorn is not my idea of a good diet."
"Yeah, mine either. I was planning to make breakfast. Is Nikita up?"
Alex tipped her head toward the living room, and I realized that my girlfriend had also slipped downstairs while I was in the laundry room. I hadn't even noticed when I came back that Nikita was now seated by the window, silently staring outside with the same look on her face that she'd had on the plane.
"I'm up for breakfast, if you make it," Alex told me before she headed to her room to give us some privacy.
I hung my jacket over the back of a chair, then took a seat on the floor beside Nikita. "Hey," I softly greeted her as we twined our fingers together. She glanced at me for a second, but didn't respond. "We won, remember?" I told her. "They lost." She nodded, but didn't return my smile. I had no idea what else I was going to say to her. She was so much better at knowing what someone needed to hear when they were having a rough time.
"You know, for a second there, I didn't think I could do it," she finally spoke up. "I guess I can still surprise myself. I mean, I know I surprised Amanda."
Nikita actually had a little grin on her face, and I was completely lost. "What are you talking about?"
She finally looked me right in the eyes. "I let her live," she explained, and her smile grew. "I let her live." She leaned against my shoulder, and went back to staring at nothing. I'd imagine I had a pretty good faraway gaze going, too, because my mind was totally blown.
I'd had it all wrong. She didn't regret not killing Amanda. She was glad. It hadn't been a moment of fear or weakness, it was a new high for her strength. She had proved that she was better than what Amanda had tried to turn her into, better than me. It wasn't like I'd been upset with her before, but I was definitely proud of her now. She'd left Division years ago, but was now really earning her freedom. And I hoped that someday I could follow her.
After we all had breakfast, the girls decided to go for a run and left Birkhoff and I to unpack our gear. I watched through the window as the two of them headed out to the open beach, smiling and talking. Life going back to normal... whatever that meant for us.
"We live with two amazingly strong women," I commented to Birkhoff as I joined him in the kitchen.
He raised an eyebrow at me, incredulous. "How many times did Nikki have to kick your ass sparring before you learned that one?"
I shook my head. "Not that kind of strength."
Birkhoff considered that for a moment before nodding. "Damn straight. But again - you're just figuring that out?"
"No. But it never hurts to get reminded."
A/N: As always, feedback is appreciated!