Disclaimer: La Femme Nikita and it's characters do not belong to me; they belong to ?? and USA.
Note: This is my first LFN fan fic. Please leave a review with your thoughts/ comments. Thanks.
Spoilers: Up the Rabbit Hole, Four Light Years Farther
*2nd Note: Like with 99% of what I write, this was written in the middle of the night, so if you find any major typos or whatever let me know.
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Quicksand
(To my sister Michelle who made me a fan)
There, I said it. Despite what you may think, I am not some cold, unfeeling creature. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. I know I hurt him. I never wanted it to come to this. I watched Michael as he stared at me, his usual tranquil blue eyes mirrored his tortured soul; my words striking him deep, like a stab wound to the chest. I watched as he took the blade to his flesh, slicing his face near his eye. I watched as the crimson stream cascaded down his cheek; tears of blood.
It took everything not to reach out and wipe his pain away. I wanted to tell him I couldn't let him die in that explosion because I love him. I love him with every fiber of my being, but this was Michael's chance. Madeline was dead, having taken her own life. My life was spared. Operations thought Michael had died on the execution- suicide mission they sent him on, never expecting him to survive. Michael had his freedom, I couldn't stand in his way. I'd sacrifice anything for him. I rather be a miserable prisoner and slave to the Section if it Michael could be free.
Why? I had to. I know Michael would have never have left me. He'd rather go back to Section one and be canceled than be without me. I did the only thing I could to get him to leave me in the woods. I watched him walked away from me, never looking back after I told him I didn't love him, and I never did. A part of me died, leaving an empty gaping hole.
I felt as if I were sinking deep into the earth. Maybe I was on my way to Hell for all I've done wrong. I felt feverish, like I was burning up. My chest ached, and I couldn't breathe; nor did I want to. My body felt heavy, like I was covered in a plaster body cast. I was sinking; I was falling.
Deeper and deeper, I fell to the ground. I was suffocating. Hot, salty tears ran down my cheeks, as I stayed there in the dirt on my hands and knees. I clawed at the damp earth as if it were of fault for all my misery. I clenched it tightly as in my hands, squeezing the life of it; looking for salvation.
I have to accept that Michael is gone forever. I will never see him again, hear his voice, or feel his hand on my cheek. I told myself that Michael was with his son, Adam now and both were better off. He'll forget about me and find someone who can make him happy. He'll go on living. No operative is allowed a life at the Section. We are physically alive, but otherwise our souls are dead. I know I did the right thing deep down inside; it was the only thing I could do. I had made sacrifices and given him the most precious gift of all: life.
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