Hey guys...so I'm not good at waiting to post the next chapter, so here it is. Please R&R! Thanks! :)
Chapter 2: Forced To Wait
Michael held Nikita close in his arms, keeping a hand pressed down on her stomach where two bullets had lodged themselves. Amanda's body lay motionless behind the tall desk, her features lifeless. A small cough erupted from Nikita's lips and a moan followed closely behind. Her breaths were little and far between, but she was somehow still alive.
"Birkhoff, where is the helicopter?" Michael yelled into the earpiece, his voice muffled by fear and sorrow. Alex ran over and replaced Michael's hand with her own that way he could talk better, but still be touching Nikita. Michael had to look away from his hand because it was covered in crimson from Nikita's wounds.
"I'm on my way. I'll be there in two minutes. Get Nikita up onto ground level!" Birkhoff stuttered, fearful for his friend. He pushed the huge machine as fast as it would go, the engines straining against the air current. The roof of Division was actually a huge field covered in lush green grass. No one would ever suspect that a secret agency existed underneath.
Alex pressed down hard on the wounds and managed to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Owen was placed behind Nikita, her head resting on his lap for support. "Birkhoff says to get to the roof," Michael said quickly. He stood and gently scooped Nikita up in his arms, holding her form close to his chest.
Owen and Alex were close on Michael's heels as they took the stairs, fearful that the elevator would take too many crucial minutes. Their feet skidded and pounded against stairs, echoes making their way throughout the stairwell. Alex weaved her way around Michael and shoved through the door, holding it open for Michael and Owen. Nikita seemed to be getting worse, her skin lacking its usual glow.
"Over here!" Birkhoff screamed as if the three agents couldn't hear the massive helicopter's blades cutting through the air. The engine roared as Owen hopped inside first then took Nikita from Michael to allow the former trainer to get into the machine. Alex came in last, barely making it before Birkhoff lifted off again.
"How is Nikki?" Seymour asked in a concerned tone. Michael had personally never seen his friend so distraught before, even while under immense pressure inside Division.
"She's fading quick. Alex, grab the IV bag. We need to get blood in her," Michael stated, refusing to let his love go. This instance proved that Nikita was the only thing that could bring out Michael's deepest emotions.
Alex forced her way to the back of the helicopter and snatched up a bag of Nikita's blood type, carrying it cautiously back over to Michael. Owen had Nikita's right arm cupped in his left hand while he inserted a needle with the other, a tube running from the end of it into the blood bag.
Nikita winced subconsciously at the prick, earning a furrowed brow from Michael. "Be careful," he growled at Owen, pushing a strand of hair from Nikita's forehead. Owen merely nodded, where as he would have started up an argument under any other circumstance. Once the blood was flowing easily through the tube, Owen stood and backed up towards the front of the plane. Alex took his place and cupped one of Nikita's hands in her own.
The young Russian ran her fingers through her hair, catching a few tangles here and there. Alex glanced up at Michael with teary eyes, a few drops running down her bruised cheeks. "I never got to apologize for blaming her for the death of my parents. I mean, I know she thought she killed them, but then my mother turned up alive. When I hugged my mom and pulled back to find her holding a gun to my head, that's when I realized my death had been intended by her so many years ago. I couldn't believe she'd been associated with Division the whole time. It was all a setup and Nikita didn't even know what Division had planned. She was truly as clueless as I was that day," Alexandra stuttered, wiping tears away furiously.
"That's what Division did. They manipulated and took advantage of everyone they came in contact with…" Michael trailed off, his tone choked and flat. "Alex," he began again, looking up at his recruit from long ago. "Nikita never meant to hurt you. She thought about you everyday you were with Division. She feared for your life and never stopped caring. You'll get a chance to talk to her again. She's strong. She'll overcome this minor setback," Michael stated, hoping his words were true.
"So where are we taking her, anyway?" Alex asked, gripping Nikita's limp hand tighter.
"My place," Birkhoff stated from the front of the helicopter.
"But she needs medical attention," Alex breathed. "I know you're a tech geek and all, but she needs real medical care!"
"Alex, she can't go to a public hospital. None of us can. Our birth certificates have been erased and what people do have on us is bad. Bad enough to send Nikita straight to prison once she's healthy enough," Owen chipped in from beside Birkhoff, his tone flatter than usual as well.
"I have everything Nikita will need, plus a house that doesn't smell like death. A hot babe like Nikki doesn't need to be forced into a hospital gown anyway," Birkhoff joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Michael glared at him, but let a smirk play at the corners of his lips. Alex and Owen smiled as well, although the grins vanished after a few seconds.
Nikita's breathing was barely noticeable, but her color was starting to come back just a tad. Michael held a white towel to her stomach, which was soaked in wet crimson. Alex shuttered at Nikita's condition. She'd only known the assassin as a strong-willed, indestructible woman who didn't like to listen. Now she was so vulnerable and weak. It wasn't right….it wasn't Nikita.
Birkhoff's house came into view as they descended towards the earth, trees flapping violently around them. As soon as the legs of the machine hit the ground, a group of men in white came running out of Birkoff's house. Instinctively, all three agents withdrew their guns, aiming at the strangers. A woman made her was through the men as the blades stopped turning, tears running down her cheeks at the site of Nikita's bloody body.
"They're here to help," Birkhoff stated quickly, urging everyone to lower their guns.
"I'm Dr. Anderson, Nikita's private ambulance you might say. I don't get calls from her often, but Seymour called me as soon as he heard the gunshots. I'll take care of her," the woman promised, giving Michael a sympathetic smile. Her blue eyes locked with Michael's for a moment before she whipped around and jogged back into the house, the male nurses right behind her with Nikita in their arms.
Michael lunged out of the helicopter to follow, but Alex and Owen held him back. He struggled against them with all his strength. "I need to be with her!" he growled, his tone menacing.
"Michael, Dr. Anderson needs to be alone with Nikita to check over her wounds and remove the bullets," Alex cooed soothingly into his ear, pulling back with all her strength. They dragged Michael into the living room, where they allowed Michael to snatch out of their grip.
"Michael, just sit down and wait. I'm just as unhappy about all this bull crap as you are, but don't turn on us!" Birkhoff howled, crossing his arms over his chest. Tears were welling up in the tech's eyes, making the hazel color look like actual water.
Michael let out a sigh of defeat and fell back onto the couch, covering his face with the palms of his hands. Alex made her way over and sat down beside him, placing a comforting arm around his back. "She'll be okay Michael. She has to be," Alex breathed, choking back more tears. Owen kept his back turned towards everyone and stared out the window, his form shuttering every now and then.
Birkoff sighed heavily and made his way over to his wine cabinet, where he poured a large glass of red wine. Taking a long sip, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and sat down in front of his computer, staring at the screens wordlessly. Without Nikita around to liven up everything, the house was eerily silent.
Alex glanced between everyone for the longest, trying to keep a hold of herself. Michael shuttered under her arm and she wished she could comfort her fathery-figure, but knew only Nikita could take his pain away. Now all the powerful group could do was sit and wait.
So...what did y'all think? Sorry it's a bit short, but I'm in the middle of doing a bunch of stuff at once.
