From Yesterday

"We need to talk…"

Nikita looked up from her meeting notes and stared wide-eyed at Michael for a moment. He had come so quickly up to the mission briefing table that she barely had a moment to process him being there. It was as if one moment she was discussing the profile of a drug-dealing agency, and the next, Michael was in front of her looking very serious.

"What is it that you need to discuss?"

Michael looked around the table at all the operatives suddenly interested in the conversation and no longer concerned about the mission.

"Can we speak in private?"

"I'm in the middle of a briefing right now, Michael. Can't it wait?"

"I don't think we should."

"Was there something new that broke in the Al Amin case that I need to know about?"

Michael pressed his lips together, creating a tense thin line across his face. He looked once more at the congregated operatives, noticing their eyes moving between Michael and Nikita as they spoke. He gave Nikita a look that said that he preferred not to discuss the matter in front of everyone. Nikita put down her pinpointer and put her hands on her hips.

"What's this about?"

"Can we speak in my office...Please?"

Michael's additional petition softened Nikita slightly. She relaxed and turned to Quinn, who was seated to her right at the briefing table. She handed her the panel that held all the information needed to properly advise the gathered team.

"Do you mind catching up the team for me while I go and speak with Agent Samuelle?"

Quinn took the panel and nodded. Nikita moved from behind the desk and followed Michael to his office. She looked back at the table, hearing Quinn beginning where Nikita left off in her speech. Once inside, Michael closed the door while Nikita went over to one of the seats in front of Michael's desk and sat down. Michael crossed over to his desk and started to initiate the signal jamming device under his desk.

"Why are you doing that? Who are you trying to keep from hearing what we are saying?" Nikita crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

Michael thought a moment about what he was doing before stepping away from the desk. He rounded to the front of the desk and sank down onto it, folding his arms about himself. Nikita looked up at him, her expression reading nothing.

"Well…" she began. "What is it that you needed to talk to me about?"

Michael looked at Nikita for a long moment silently. Emotions flooded his eyes and pressed through the mask he commonly wore while inside Section. Nikita furrowed her brows, noticing the sudden change in Michael's normally placid demeanor. There were only a few times when she saw real emotion coming from Michael. In those times, they were always alone and always in a dire situation where their survival was less than probable.

"What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael's voice was very low and very serious.

"Tell you what?"

"I read your file."

"What file?"

"The file you had sealed," said Michael. He looked up at Nikita. "You're medical record."

"You read my medical record?"

It was Nikita's turn to speak very low and be very serious.

"You should have told me. I could have helped you...before it got to this."

"Why the hell did you read my medical file? What made you think to look at my file?" Nikita crossed her arms, no longer relaxed.

"How long have you known?" Michael repositioned himself, pressing his weight down against his desk and gripping the edge.

"I've always known," Nikita said slowly. "It was never anything I was unsure of."

"Does Helmut know?" Michael's voice went a little softer.

"Yes…" Nikita swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

"What have you been doing to try and take care of it?"

Nikita frowned. "She's not an it, Michael…"

It was Michael's turn to frown in confusion. He pushed off from the desk and walked to the window of his office. Peering out the glass, he watched as Section moved in its regular routines, heedless of what was going on inside his office. His eyes naturally traveled up towards the Perch, expecting to see the dark outline of Operations standing in the shadows. Instead, the window was empty with only the glow of the monitors lighting the inner office.

"We've worked very hard...to get you to this point," Michael began. He clasped his hands behind him. "I don't understand how you could let this happen. You knew the risks. You knew what could happen if you weren't careful."

Nikita reacted. She stared at Michael, stunned by his words.

"Yeah, I knew the risks. I knew what could happen, but it wasn't like I had a choice. I couldn't just let Section do with me however they felt like doing."

"How are the doctors treating you?" Michael continued to stare out the window.

It had been years since Nikita sat in Michael's office feeling as if she were being interrogated for some trespass. Years since she stared at Michael's back wondering what sort of punishment he was avoiding giving her because of something she did not do, or some order she did not obey. She wondered now what it was that he knew and wanted to see if she could guess. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat but remained where she was. She pulled in a breath and steadied herself.

"I'm being treated well," Nikita answered, attempting to keep her voice even. "They are giving me the best medical treatment possible."

"Have they mentioned anything about your condition? About how to improve things?"

"No," said Nikita. "I do check-ups to be sure that everything is still normal, that all is still stable every few months or so."

"When was your last appointment?"

"I don't know. Maybe a few months ago? I've been very busy with Section, I haven't been able to go to many of the appointments. Helmut has been giving me an oral medicine to take at home...So it's not like I'm-"

"Have you been taking the medicine?" Michael turned towards Nikita.

Michael's face was full of concern. Nikita pulled back a little, noticing the doubt in his voice.

"Yes...Yes, I've been taking the medicine."

"Are you certain of it?"

Nikita paused. She switched her position in her chair again, finding her seat once more annoying. A heat began at the back of her neck and crawled over the top of her ears. The air in the room started to thin as she felt all of Michael's intensity bearing down on her.

"What's this about, Michael?"

"It's about what you're not telling me what I should know. What you're trying to hide, but it's showing in everything that you do...and everything that you say."

Nikita narrowed her eyes.

"I've told you all that you need to know-"

"Not everything, Nikita."

Nikita stood to her feet, unable to sit any longer in Michael's uncomfortable chair. She walked to the opposite side of the room, putting necessary distance between herself and Michael. She faced the wall monitors and studied the mission updates scrolling on the screens.

"Who put you on to my scent? Quinn?"

"She gave me a hint," said Michael.

"A hint...Sounds to me like she told you more than a hint."

"She only told me where to look."

"In my medical file," said Nikita, her tone darkening.

"Yes."

Nikita fiddled with the keys on the keyboard in front of the monitors, touching them yet not touching them. Her fingertips unconsciously typed out the word KILL.

"So you decided to hack into a sealed record and take a look around inside it." Nikita turned around to face Michael, leveling her gaze with his. "Find anything interesting in the file?"

Michael folded his arms and took a step closer towards Nikita.

"Let me help you."

"I think you've done enough, Michael. It's been five years. I've learned how to handle things on my own at this point."

"Obviously, you haven't-"

"Excuse me!" Nikita closed the distance between them quickly. Her eyes burned hotly into Michael. "I'm the one that carried your baby for nine months by myself with absolutely no help from you! I'm the one that raised her, took care of her, and kept her safe all without you! You think just because you're here now that any of that is going to change? You're unbelievable! You're so full of yourself! You always have been, and I can't believe I'm not seeing it until now!"

Michael's eyes widened. "What…"

"I was foolish to think she could keep her mouth shut," Nikita went on.

She walked past Michael and looked out the window. She searched the floor for Quinn's familiar long dark hair and bangs. After a moment, Quinn materialized from a side hall heading towards the Communications Hub. Nikita watched as she made her way over to Trent to deliver a disc to him. Nikita gritted her teeth. A hot ball of bile built in the back of her throat. She swallowed and tasted acidic anger. She turned back to Michael and saw him still standing, looking both stunned and bewildered.

"Don't try and act like it's big news to you. I know she already told you," said Nikita.

Michael continued to look shocked as if he had been kicked full force in the chest and had all the wind knocked out of him.

"I'm sure she weaseled her way in here and tried to make it seem like I was purposefully not telling you about Lizzie because I wanted to keep you close. You and I both know that we can be no further far apart than if you were back on the other side of the world again."

"I have a daughter?" Michael's voice was nearly at a whisper as he said the words.

"Yes-Michael, stop playing stupid. I know she told you. Why else would she have you look in my medical file?" Nikita took a step closer to Michael.

His awed expression and resulting emotions made him slightly unstable. He swayed a little as the news sank deeper into his psyche and rooted there. Nikita studied Michael and looked on with confusion at his reaction.

"She wasn't going to tell you directly," Nikita continued. "That isn't her way. She wanted you to discover it on your own, but she knew you were going to need a little help. She wanted to be sure that you would not doubt what you saw with your own eyes. She knew you would not believe her otherwise."

"Nikita…"

"I understand why you are upset right now, and I promise that I was going to tell you about Elizabeth, but in my own time in my own way. I never wanted you to find out about her like this."

Finally, Michael's legs gave from him, and he stumbled to the side towards his desk. Nikita rushed to him and caught him just before he landed on the chairs in front of his desk. Slowly, she settled him down into the seat. His eyes were still wide, and his breath came out in shallow huffs.

"She told you, didn't she? She told you to look in my file and see the truth about Lizzie. About when she was born."

Michael looked up into Nikita's eyes.

"She only told me to look in your file because there was something there that I needed to know about you," said Michael honestly.

"She wanted you to see that Lizzie was born nine months after we were together. That you were the father."

"I only saw that you had a daughter. The father was never named."

"But...But I told them who her father was. I told the doctor." Now it was Nikita's turn to look dumbfounded.

"A name was never recorded on the file," Michael explained. "The case was closed shortly after you gave birth. You were deactivated for six months after that for intensive treatment. It was never explained what that treatment was, only that you were not sent on any missions during the six months Mandatory Leave. When you returned, they started back regular treatments which were documented to your file."

Nikita thought hard, trying to remember those months spent in a Safe House nursing Elizabeth. She could remember getting visits from Operations and Walter, who then began giving her a cocktail of medicines to help maintain the virus that still ran strongly within her cells. She remembered Elizabeth undergoing many tests to conclude that she was not infected with the same virus. By some miracle, Nikita did not pass along the evil that had been placed inside her. It was both happy and despairing news. Nikita was glad that Elizabeth would have a chance to live a long and joyful life free of disease. However, she knew, in the end, she would still lose her. The virus would ultimately rob her of all life and feeling, leaving her a vegetable in a hospital with all mental functions deadened by an atrophied brain.

"Nikita, I had no idea about Elizabeth," said Michael. "I always thought she was Helmut's child, not mine. When he told me the two of you were married, I thought Elizabeth was the product of the union. I never thought…"

"Oh my God, Michael…" Nikita breathed out heavily. She leaned back against the desk, unable to withstand the weight of her own realization.

"When were you going to tell me? Were you ever?"

"I was going to tell you," said Nikita in a small voice. "I just didn't know-how. I wanted to wait until it was the right time."

"And when would that be?"

"I don't know." Nikita shook her head. "Just not now."

"Well, now I know." Michael straightened in his chair, returning himself to his former composure. "You don't have to worry about telling me...Or getting back at Quinn."

Nikita averted her eyes. The anger that was once boiling in the pit of her stomach turned to unbearable regret. She could barely look into Michael's eyes as she rested on the edge of his desk.

"So...What do we do now?"

"We need to get you checked. Do another scan to see how much the virus has spread since your last test," said Michael.

"Why? I just had a scan done a few months ago. It said I was fine."

"Months?" Michael looked at Nikita with question.

"Yes. I had my last test done in November of last year. I'm not due for another test until…"

Nikita frowned, unable to remember when her next appointment was scheduled for a routine test and brain scan. Michael stood to his feet and circled around to his desk. He typed on his computer and reassessed Nikita's medical file. He read quickly through the doctor's notes then looked back up at Nikita.

"Your last test was done three weeks ago, Nikita. The test before then was completed in January."

"January? It's January now, isn't it?"

Michael's expression pulled further into worry. "No. It's the end of March."

Nikita slumped down into the seat Michael just left. "How did I miss an entire month?"

"The virus is affecting your memory and causing you to forget whole blocks of time. You're experiencing blackouts akin to short periods of amnesia. You forget events, things you did or said. It can last for hours. Sometimes days. Your mind basically skips time, allowing you to remember some things, but not always everything."

Nikita stared forward, horrified at what Michael was saying. It was true that there were days that she could not remember anything past getting out of bed in the morning. At times, she could not even remember what she ate or what her daughter told her. She could not remember when it was that Helmut cut off his mustache. She was sure it was discussed and likely agreed. However, she had no idea what was actually spoken between them or what it was that she said to him after it was done.

"You complained of headaches," Michael read. "Severe ones that mimic migraines. It's the virus attacking your brain cells and causing them to die. The medicine that you are supposed to be taking is supposed to help maintain the cells you do have and promote regeneration of healthy brain cells."

"My last scan...What did it say is going on?" Nikita was fearful of her own question, but she had to know.

"Your last scan says the medicine isn't working because you haven't been taking it as prescribed. There isn't enough of it to combat the virus. It has to be taken with food. I've noticed you've gone an entire day without eating anything…"

Michael straightened and walked over to where Nikita sat. He leaned against the desk and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Nikita, why hasn't Helmut helped you with taking your medicine?"

"He has," said Nikita. "When he can. I'm not always home. I'm always here at Section."

"You can't do that, Nikita. You can't neglect your health because of Section. You have to take care of yourself."

"I know that, Michael." Nikita could not hide the frustration leaking from her voice as she spoke. "I'm not trying to be sick. I just...I just don't always...remember to do things. It's like I think I've done something, I feel like I've done something, only to come to find out I haven't. That I forgot to."

Nikita bent forward and rested her head in her hands. She let out a groan.

"I feel like I've been running backward. I'm going, but I can't see where or what to avoid." Nikita shook her head. "I've missed so much of Elizabeth's life because of this. Because of Section…"

Michael pushed off from the desk and knelt down in front of Nikita. He took her hands into his, lifting her head up from her sorrow.

"We both missed out on a lot of her life, but we don't have to miss any more of it," said Michael. "We can salvage what is left and make that what she can remember for the rest of her life...and yours too."

Nikita looked into Michael's eyes. Tears welled up and fell freely down her face. Tenderly, Michael wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb. Nikita closed her eyes at the gentle caress of his hand and felt the warmth she missed there for so long.

"I'm sorry…" Nikita whispered.

"I wouldn't have left you to do this on your own, Nikita. Not if I knew."

"By the time I knew, you were already gone." Nikita opened her eyes. "I promise I would have told you if I could. I didn't even know where to look to find you."

"But you did find me."

"Yes...I looked for you...Against Section's rules. I did look for you. But after a while, I stopped. I felt like there wasn't any reason to. Lizzie already had a father...in Helmut."

Michael breathed out slowly, absorbing Nikita's words.

"I would have never married him if I ever thought for one moment that I would see you again."

Michael continued to breathe deeply, centering himself before speaking.

"It doesn't matter now. What is most important is getting you the help you need to try and stop the virus from spreading further."

Michael stood to his feet and circled back to his computer. Quickly, his fingers began working, calling up Section's Med Unit and starting to schedule another brain scan. Nikita looked up, noticing what Michael was doing. She leaned forward and gripped the end of the desk.

"No. Don't."

"Nikita, you need medical help now." Michael continued to type.

"No. Not with Section. I don't want them doing anything else to me."

"They are the only ones that know how to fix this problem."

"That's just it, Michael. They aren't fixing it. They never were. They were only making sure that the virus doesn't completely take me out."

Michael stopped typing and looked up into Nikita's very anxious eyes.

"If I keep going to Section doctors, it won't be long before Oversight finds out what is going on, and I will be taken out of my seat as director. They will put someone else in my place, likely someone that they control. Then everything that I have done will mean nothing. Section will go back to the way that it was."

"So what do you propose we do? The virus isn't anything that can be treated with conventional medicines. The world has no idea that such a thing even exists."

Nikita stood and pressed her weight down on top of the desk. She leaned forward slightly so that Michael could see her intent.

"There has to be someone we can employ to help. Someone experimental…That doesn't mind a challenge and...can keep a secret."

"Alright," said Michael. He closed his computer. "We'll figure out another way...together."

Nikita stood upright. "Thank you."

Michael moved from his computer back to standing in front of Nikita. The two looked at one another for a long moment, allowing the silence to speak for them. Michael took a step forward and turned his hands palm up for Nikita to place her hands within his. Tentatively, she slipped her hands down the length of his fingers until her palms rested within his. He moved his hands up further at her wrists and closed around them, pulling her closer towards him. Slowly, Nikita allowed herself to be drawn in close until her chin rested on Michael's shoulder.

Once more, his scent encircled her, calming the anxious river coursing rapidly through her body. The fury that was once boiling evaporated into the amber and woods scent. The roughness of his beard scratched at her forehead, sending tingles over her skin. Her arms wrapped about his waist. Her hands slid up his back, pulling him closer. She could feel his heart beating against her, always steady, always controlled. Holding Michael once more felt like returning to a memory long forgotten. And yet, she never forgot how he felt.

How he smelled.

How he tasted…

"What about Lizzie?" Nikita could not ignore the question within her.

"We'll figure that out, too," said Michael.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I wasn't sure if I should."

Michael crushed her to him, burying his face into her hair.

"I'm glad that you did. To be honest...it's the best news I've had since Adam was born."