Hello, Nikitaverse. You might be wondering why I've been writing these one-shot stories lately. As you know, I was out of the country during the finale and I feel like I didn't have enough time to "grieve" Ryan's death. It was such an amazing, heart-breaking scene. I watched the episode many times and I cried my butt off each time. I thought Noah and Maggie did an excellent job portraying these characters. Anyhoo, since we didn't get to see much due to a shortened final season, I thought it would be a good idea to write about the "shortened" scenes. In this case, I chose to write Ryan's death scene with Nikita. Forgive the poor writing. I'm still a little jetlagged so please bear with me. Haha! Enjoy.
The phone call.
The phone call that turns my life upside down and changes everything. Why? Why now? Now that everything seems to finally be going right, this happens. It cannot be.
No. Not him.
Why does he have to be so stubborn? Why can't he listen to me for once? Why did he not listen? He should have listened. Only if he had listened, none of this would have happened. I told him to let it go; that we have finally won. But he does not want to; he does not believe it. Instead, he insists that we are all being fooled into believing it is over. I do not see it. I do not want to see it. I do not want to believe that there is a chance, even a small chance, of him being right. No. Not this time. It is over. We have finally won.
No more missions. No more looking over our shoulders. And most importantly, no more Amanda. It's over. It's gotta be over. We can finally move on, put our ugly past behind us and live our lives the way we want to. Finally, we can have that normalcy that we have been praying for.
Pray. I don't think we even deserve to say prayers. How dare we to even ask God for anything? Not after everything we have done. Our hands are covered in blood and our souls have been rotting and burning in hell. Do sinners like us even deserve a second chance?
My dreams are shattered before they even began. I'll never forget this fateful morning. Just when I thought that Michael and I can finally have that normal "boring" life we've been dreaming about on the beach, the phone suddenly rings. I knew it. I have been in denial and blinded by my own desires. I have been keeping my mouth shut, ignoring what my mind and gut have been telling me all this time. Despite being in denial, deep down I knew better. All this time I knew that this is too good to be true. This quiet, suburban-like life inside this military base, is nothing but an illusion; a dream.
I run as quickly as humanly possible in what seems to be an endless hallway. My head is spinning, trying to imagine all the possible state he can be in. What could possibly have happened to him? I just saw him in his home not too long ago. What kind of an accident was he in? I try to prepare myself for what I'm about to see but nothing prepared me for what I am about to hear; what he is about to say.
I see him laying there, on a hospital stretcher, all bruised and covered in blood; he is barely breathing, barely clinging to life. Being the killer that I am, when I look at him, in his eyes, I know immediately that death is coming. I know in my heart, he is not going to make it. I am scared; scared than I have ever been. Scared to lose one of the most important people in my life. Scared to lose him; my friend, my family.
He grabs my hand and pulls me closer to him. He opens his mouth and silently tells me everything: about the lies, about Amanda. My world stops and I hear my own heart shatter into million little pieces. Suddenly, I feel paralyzed. Unable to move, unable to think. All I know is, this cannot be. This is not real. This is just one of those nightmares I get that cause me to wake up screaming from sleep every night. This is not real. It just cannot be.
Then I hear him speak and it brings me back to the awful reality.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to be wrong," he says in a sad, heart breaking tone. I look down on him and see him struggling to speak; struggling for air.
And before I can even register what he said, machines around me start to beep loudly. Doctors and nurses run to his side, pushing me as far away from him as possible. And when I look at the monitor in the corner and see that flat line, a part of me dies because I know what is coming. I watch everything unfold behind this glass door; I watch in horror while these people try to save him. But I know, I know in my heart, Ryan is gone.
Ryan, my beloved friend. The man who stood by me through it all. The man who helped me fight not just my battles with Division, but with my own demons, as well. The person who had always seen who I really was. The person who always reminded me that I am not a monster; that I am a good person who deserved a second chance. He had saved me countless of times and now here he is, sacrificing his own life again just to protect me.
Don't go. Please don't go. Not like this. You can fight this. You are stronger than this. I know you are. I cannot finish this battle without you. I will not go on without you. Don't go just yet. We haven't even seen paradise; the paradise that we often talked about during our days. You and I used to talk about it over wine after successfully completing our missions, long before we even defeated Percy. Remember those days? I do. I remember it all.
I wipe my tears away, trying to focus my eyes anywhere but his bed. But my eyes betray me, and slowly they drift there, to where he is. I see his now lifeless body, still covered in blood and bruises. I hold back the tears, trying as hard as I can not to cry because I am afraid that once I do, I won't be able to stop. I turn around, not bothering to take another look at him.
Farewell, my friend. You will always be a part of me. I promise you, this is not over. You died for the truth; to protect me. And I can't let that be for nothing.
Amanda must pay.
Amanda will pay..