Set sometime in season 3. Inspired by the fact that Alex has been through it.
"Take your clothes off and give them to me now," Their captors ordered, brandishing the guns around. Nikita did as instructed, glaring in anger; they weren't going to intimidate her. Alex however, although her expression remained blank, was panicking. She could see the young woman out of the corner of her eye. Her fingers slightly fumbled on her clothing, her movements were somewhat sloppy and a little fast, her breathing would sometimes hitch, and her eyes barely grew larger. To anyone other than Nikita, Alex was still Alex- her composure steely and calm. But she could see her minute expressions while they stood at gunpoint in their underwear. Alex was on the verge of a breakdown.
The two women had been on a mission, if that wasn't clear enough already. All was going smoothly, at first. They had successfully tracked down a Dirty Thirty, and were in the process of taking him out. However, he had a friend. He had teamed up with another Dirty Thirty, hoping to expand their illegal business by working together. Apparently, Division agents could make friends. Alex and Nikita were surprised and ambushed. Though they were forced into the small room and tactically at a disadvantage, they continued to strategize ways out of the situation. Until they were told to take off their clothes. Nikita couldn't make sense of that.
But she didn't give much thought to it. Alex's anxiety attack crashed into her at full force once their captors left and locked the door. She backed into the corner, curling around herself as she collapsed. Her body shook violently with heavy erratic breaths and streaming tears. Her blue eyes rapidly scanned the surrounding area, moving too fast to really see. Nikita attempted to step towards her, yet that only made things worse.
"Alex," She tried instead. She couldn't even respond. Nikita wasn't entirely sure what to do to calm her. She knew how to ground herself back to reality when she had attacks like that. Usually waking from a nightmare, Nikita would think of the present- what she felt physically around her. Sometimes, Michael would wake with her and help to reassure her. She wasn't sure if the same techniques would work, but it was worth a shot.
With slow movements, Nikita got to her knees to make herself smaller and raised her empty open palms. She spoke softly and gently, "Alex. It's me, Nikita. I'm your friend. I protect you not hurt you."
Alex's eyes ceased their never-ending scan to focus on her. A small comforting smile pulled at Nikita's full lips, "See. I'm here. I'm going to keep you safe. First, you need to breathe. Breathe. In and out, just like me."
Nikita made her breathing audible and steady for Alex to follow. After a few hiccups, she was able to; her body stilled and quieted as a result. Nodding, Nikita continued the constant rhythm, "That's it. Easy in and out."
She went to move closer, but remembering the result of last time, she asked, "Is it okay if I come closer?"
It was barely a nod, but Alex accepted the request. Nikita cautiously crawled over, placing her knees on the young woman's bare feet, "My knees are on your feet which are securely on the ground."
Tenderly she reached for her hand, "My hand is on yours, holding you tight to protect you."
She brought Alex's hand towards her, and placed it on her naked (except for a bra) chest, "Your hand is on my heart, feeling the steady beat. And my voice is in your ear, soothing and constant."
Alex's tears stop, simply leaving drying stains on her cheeks. She seemed to be calm then. The attack appeared to be over. A scream from upstairs ruined that idea however, "Shh, Alex. Shh. Focus on me. It's just you and me. You, Alexandra Udinov. The brave, intelligent, beautiful force to be reckoned with. And me, Nikita. The badass bitch who will always protect you. It's only you and me. We'll keep each other safe no matter what."
Although her body was still tense, Alex's breathing had settled again. Nikita connected her eyes firmly with hers, "Your blue eyes see my brown, and they know the truth and sincerity behind them. Everything is safe in the gaze because I am not going to let anything bad happen to you. Ever."
Silent moments passed before Alex wiggled her toes. Nikita took that to mean she had returned to reality and really wanted to remove the weight from her feet. She didn't move far though. Alex wouldn't let her. Nikita sat next to the young woman, close enough to make her feel secure. They continued to hold hands. Nikita figured it was a way to stay rooted to the world.
Quietly, just above a whisper, Alex eventually muttered, "Thank you."
"No problem," Nikita shrugged, "That usually helps me out. Feeling the things around me. Michael added the stuff about knowing who you are and shit. I wasn't sure what would help the most, so."
"No. It was great. Usually I calm down by thinking about here and not there. But this here is exactly like that there," Voice remaining soft, Alex admitted. Nikita knew what she was talking about. She knew the moment they were forced to strip at gunpoint. It had been years since Alex had escaped from the brothel, but the memories and trauma remained. That would probably always remain with Alex. Trauma didn't like going away; Nikita was very familiar with that fact. The best they could do was to continue living, and try to heal.
"What are they going to do to us?" Alex's question ripped Nikita out of her thoughts. Her hand tightly squeezed hers, desperately trying to not spiral back into a panic.
Nikita didn't know. The screaming upstairs and their semi-nakedness concerned her tremendously. Yet she couldn't afford to dwell over it. She had to remain strong, "Doesn't matter. They won't have the chance to do anything, before we bust out of here and kick their asses."
"What do you have in mind?" It was small, but Alex actually grinned. Nikita smiled in return, glancing at the locked door and laying out a plan.