Fifteen Years Earlier
"What are you doing up?" Although Paul Mason Pierce had been awake in the middle of the night (he could never rest before being shipped out on assignment; the anxiety of what could happen and having to leave his family filled him with too much dread) he didn't think anyone else was. Always a surprise, however, Nikita startled him. She stared at her dad, unwilling to answer his question. He wasn't certain if it was stubbornness keeping her quiet, or if she was still trying to wake from whatever nightmare must've drawn her to the other room. By the way she was regarding him, he was going with both.
"How long is a while?" In a small mumble, Nikita eventually asked her dad. Usually, Paul Mason told his kids exactly how long his assignments were. They knew when to expect him home and when they could breathe easier. But it was different that time. Even he wasn't sure when he'd return. His thirteen year old daughter was uncomfortable with that fact. Overhearing some of the tense arguments her parents had had over the matter didn't help her anxiety. Maybe she had made it worse by sneaking around to spy on her mom and dad. Except, she wanted to understand what was happening. She'd want to understand in case the worst ever occurred.
"This is just like any other assignment. I'll be home before you know it," Paul Mason attempted to assure her. That wasn't necessarily true, but he couldn't go into detail. His calming words might've worked on his son, who was still young enough to cling to his parents' words, and his older twin daughters, who were beyond trusting, but Nikita was a different matter. She just kept staring at him in stubborn concern. Sighing, he brought her into a tight embrace. He couldn't fault her for being worried, yet he didn't want her so upset. He needed to help her battle her fears, "You can't get rid of me that easily, Icky Nikki."
"Hey!" Nikita abhorred that taunting nickname her siblings threw at her. She always felt the need to retaliate with a smack or an even meaner quip. However, as she tried to tear away from the hug and swat at her dad, he held her even tighter. Paul Mason squeezed and rocked her back and forth despite her grouchy protests. While she kept attempting to push herself away, he smiled and laughed at her. It wasn't until he began to tickle her side that she began to laugh too. Concerns, nightmares, and the weighted pit in their stomachs disappeared as father and daughter played around. The feeling of joy, happiness, and freedom would last with them forever, even if the memory wouldn't; it would help them battle the world that crashed down around them.
Present
Michael's reaction was valid. Nikita couldn't blame him for throwing things- hadn't she been just as violent when she discovered her brother was working with Oversight. The current bombshell of a discovery was worse, however. It involved a child- an innocent who never should've been dragged into that fucking war. But his biological father was trying to correct the wrongs in the world. And his mother was someone they thought was just as trapped in the crusade. She had played them, however. She had betrayed them. Cassandra was a Gogol mole, putting Max into further danger. The anger Michael lashed out on the dishes wasn't the extent of his descent into madness. Grabbing his weapon, he began to take off. Nikita tried to follow, needing to understand his thoughts, "What are you doing?"
"Watch the house," But Michael couldn't answer. His son was caught in the crosshairs; he couldn't think, or breathe, or truly feel. So much fear and terror had gripped his heart, that he didn't know what to do. Hadn't he lost enough to his enemies already. Max should've been different. He should've known nothing but peace and love. His mother just had to bring hell upon him, though. Michael couldn't let that happen- not again, not to another person he loved.
"Where are you going?" Nikita chased after him. There was no way she was going to let him handle that on his own. Although she didn't fully understand the heartbreak and concern he was feeling for his son, she recognized the panicked look in his eyes. He was spiraling out of control. The team received one more devastating blow, and he didn't appear as though he'd be able to get back up again. She had to get him to calm down- to think. He couldn't run off into the unknown being led only by his heart. Something terrible was bound to happen.
"I'm going to London to get my son," His decision was already something terrible. Michael just proved how little he was actually thinking. His only reaction to the news was born of fear and pain. Nikita didn't need him to say it; she knew he was drawing parallels to the past hell he had experienced. Even she had thought about it for a second. But Max wasn't Hayley, and Cassandra certainly wasn't Elizabeth. He had to focus on the present. He had to understand that there were still things they could do before the world turned dark. Nothing was lost yet.
Whereas Nikita was somewhat able to shove aside her crushing emotions and raging mind, Michael didn't have the luxury. Hadn't they already fought to keep Max away from the war. They took out the Division plant masquerading as his father, and they helped Cassandra deal with greedy Russians. His son was supposed to be safe from then on. He wasn't supposed to lose another child to a blacks ops organization. Hayley was more than enough damage and pain. He had failed to protect her from the evil in his world. But he wouldn't let Max down. He couldn't, despite Nikita trying to make him slow down, "Wait. Wait a minute."
"For what? Cassandra, we just found out, is Gogol. And Gogol is the enemy," Fighting the tears in his eyes, Michael focused on the facts. Cassandra was a mole for a group that wished the team harm, therefore she wanted to hurt the team. That left Max trapped between his parents. Knowing full well that Alex was threatened as a child and Hayley was shown no mercy, the agent feared his son's safety would be used as a tool against him. Their enemies didn't give a shit about anyone or anything. Innocence was nothing to them. There was no telling what would happen to Max because of his mother.
"Yes, but Max is innocent," There was no telling what would happen to Max because of Gogol. Yet Nikita knew Cassandra wouldn't hurt him. The woman, though involved with both MI6 and a criminal organization, had made it clear that her son was her priority. Her status as a mole wouldn't have changed anything. She'd die to protect her child, just like Max's father would. Understanding that, Nikita had to fight for another solution to their problem. Maybe they could talk it out instead of act. Talking might just make things clear.
"I know. That's why I'm going to bring him back here," Alright, so his idea could develop into something worse. Michael was really planning on kidnapping Max and bringing him to a safehouse full of rogue spies. He and Nikita had already discussed the danger of him having a picture of his son. The little boy actually being there wasn't going to make anything better. Sure, it was fine and okay for him to be protective of Max and to need him safe. But taking him from a place he knew and throwing him into a world of shit wasn't the way to do that. In fact, it was probably the opposite.
"Here, where there's no danger at all. What happened to finishing this fight?" Sarcasm quickly turning to puzzlement, Nikita pulled Michael away from the door again. Ending Division and Gogol was the perfect way to save Max. There would no longer be any secret governmental organizations threatening his life, or pulling his mother away from him. The two had talked about her finally returning to her family once the war was over. It didn't have to be different for him. He could have everything he wanted when everything was finally over.
"We don't. We get out, and we go somewhere where they can't find us, and we live there," At least he was revising his insane scheme. However, Michael still wasn't thinking. No matter what Nikita said or did, he was going to be consumed by his terror. The feeling washed over him so suddenly and so powerfully. As soon as he learned the little boy was his, love filled his heart when it came to him. Unfortunately, sadness existed in tandem with the revelation. It was brought about by the fact that Max was conceived because of lies and manipulation, the fact that father and son couldn't truly be together as a family, and the fact that he would never know of his late half-sister. Things just weren't that simple.
It should've been, though. A child's joy should've been simple and easy. Yet Michael couldn't catch a break. He didn't want his heart to be broken anymore. He didn't want to be full of grief. Was it so terrible that he wanted his son, his girlfriend, his late-daughter. Why did he have to keep losing people he loved more than anything. He wanted to hold them in his life forever. And though Nikita could track those thoughts and feelings, it wasn't possible. They didn't get to skip the war and have peace. She didn't want any pain either, but it just wasn't right, "We get out. We go somewhere. Are you listening to yourself? We raise a kid?"
"Yes, absolutely!" Michael shouted. Nikita blinked. She knew- a part of her had always known that was what he wanted for them- but it never seemed so real before. It was for him, however. While she stared at him blankly, her mind short circuiting at the confession, his expression portrayed nothing but earnestness. He was serious about his decision, "No. Nikita. Let me, let me make myself clear. I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's just, it's been very hard making these pieces fit. Between you, now Max. And this war with Division. Maybe… this will work."
He was so convicted and sure with that last statement. Michael believed they could do it. With their combined might, they could raise Max and be safe. However, Nikita could only shake her head. That was too much for them to take on. It was too much for her, honestly. The bad guys weren't going to go away because they were hiding. And what about their team; they couldn't leave them stumbling in the dark alone. And what about her family; she had already been forced to leave them once. As important as protecting Max was, there was more to think about than just that, "I think you're getting ahead of yourself."
"No. I don't think I am," Head shaking, Michael moved towards Nikita. They had accomplished so much in their crusade against Division. There was still far to go, but the team could handle it from there. The two of them could refocus, learn everything it was they had to know, figure out everything they had to do, and they could take care of Max. If anyone could do it, it'd be them. They had enough love and drive; it was possible. No more loss and no more pain would surround them. Wasn't that what they both wanted.
"Then, I think… I think you're getting ahead of me," Nikita negated. Michael's plan was terrible no matter how you looked at it. Yes, it was made out of love. Yet it wasn't sustainable. They both had too many enemies to contend with, and it wasn't like Cassandra would let them take Max without a fight. Above all else, though, she couldn't be a mother to the little boy. She didn't have the skills or the knowledge to raise a kid. And after the things she had done, she couldn't be around someone so pure and bright, "I'm not mother material, Michael."
"Why not?" Michael asked so innocently. His voice was quiet and his gaze was soft. Despite being aware of her faults, he always thought of Nikita as perfect. She could do anything she set her mind to. She was also kind, loving, protective, strong, and compassionate. He had no doubt that she could be a mother. Alex had been somewhat raised by her, and she became such an amazing and powerful young woman. Any kid raised by her would've been the same. She was perfect, so why wouldn't their child be.
"Because, I'm… it's Friday! And my life is insane! And not stable. And Max has a mother," Unsure of where she was originally going with her argument, Nikita still managed to conclude her point by mentioning how important stability was for a child. Max needed normalcy as well as safety. She couldn't provide that, and neither could Michael. Only Cassandra could, if they did something about Gogol. That should've been their priority. Short term solutions might've alleviated their hurt, but it wouldn't last. They needed to end that fucking war in order to be truly happy.
"Who's lies are putting him in danger. He would be better off with you than her," Maybe that was true. Maybe Max would be safer away from Cassandra, at least until the crusade was over. But it still couldn't have been with Nikita and Michael. Despite playing with him from time to time, they were still strangers to him. He wouldn't feel comfortable around them, or trust them. The transition would be terrible, and the whole time he'd wonder why he couldn't be with his mother. No one should rip him away from the person he loved and trusted most.
"Look. What you're talking about is kidnapping. Taking him away from his mother to be raised by strangers, it's going to mess him up. Trust me. You don't want him to pay for the mistakes of both of his parents," Attempting to hide the strain in her voice, Nikita pushed one more reason why they couldn't take his son. So what if he was protected if he was being punished. A scoff tried to escape Michael, yet the look in her eyes held it back. She was thinking only of Max- not of herself, or her feelings, or even his. Whereas he was blinded by a father's undying love, experience shook her every word.
Nikita had been in Max's position, and her adopted mother had essentially made the same decision Michael was about to. However, that had only led to pain, heartache, and death. Although she wasn't messed up (at least to Michael) the world around her was. His son couldn't be thrown down that path. They had to be better than Madeline and their instincts. They had to play it smart, find some other way. Fortunately, a plan started to form in her mind- a concrete one, something that'll hopefully end perfectly for Max, "We gotta confront her. Face to face."