Set during 3x09 "Survival Instincts". Alex and Nikita talk before they talk to Sean and Michael respectively.
Alex just collapsed on her couch and stared at the ceiling. She thought about grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, but that required too much effort. Instead, half of her body dangled awkwardly off the cushions and her mind turned to mush. She didn't want to think anymore. Thinking made her anxious, and stressed, and upset, and all the things she couldn't afford to feel. It was better for her to simply sink into oblivion, and let the darkness and emptiness of her apartment swallow her whole.
Unfortunately, a far too familiar knock on her front door forced Alex to be a person. She could've ignored it; however, ignoring the person at the door would only cause more problems. She might as well just turn on the lights and throw open the door. Her guest couldn't make her day any worse. That probably wasn't possible.
"I promised we would talk," Or, maybe it was. Nikita burst into the apartment, a to-go bag of food in hand. Alex sighed, slowly closing and relocking her front door. She'd rather melt back into the couch cushions than talk. Maybe she could do so as her best friend discussed whatever was on her mind. Talking didn't have to be a two person activity. One could rant, while the other listened with her mind turned off.
Once Nikita removed the contents of the food bag, however, Alex snapped out of her morose thoughts. She couldn't be upset if she was being handed a giant cup of ice cream. If that said anything about her emotions being tied too closely to her hunger, she didn't care. She just wanted sweets, "With milkshakes? Yes please."
A contented hum filled the young woman's chest the second she took a sip of the sugary shake. Chuckling softly, Nikita flopped onto the couch with her own ice cream. Alex curled next to her. They fell into silence for a moment, milkshakes and each other's warm company taking supreme importance. However, far too soon- for Alex at least- Nikita started to speak. She needed them to open back up to each other, "So how's meditation with Birkhoff?"
"I gave up and went back to punching a bag. It helps with the stress," Shrugging, Alex admitted. Her blue eyes returned to the ceiling while she slouched against the pillows. As much as she didn't want to discuss her efforts to remain sober after her relapse, she knew she had to. It might get rid of her remaining anxiety, and her remaining hunger for that high.
"Yeah. Beating shit up is always a great stress reliever," Nikita tried for humor, yet it fell flat; her mood just wasn't in it. After the last few days she had had, she didn't know how well she could laugh, especially when refusing to leave bed seemed far more appealing.
"Yeah, I saw the way you were pummeling that agent," Alex joked for them, nudging her best friend. Nikita chuckled once more, and nodded in acceptance. Obviously, the two were both struggling. Though, it didn't take a genius to see that. They were running out of ways to cope. If they didn't figure something out- if they didn't talk- it was going to destroy them.
"Did you know I broke a bag once? After Daniel," Although she knew talking to her best friend was the best way to quiet her too loud thoughts, Nikita went a roundabout way in doing so. It was easier that way. She could ignore her feelings for just a second longer.
"Michael said the chain was rusted," Alex refuted. She had heard that story before- kind of. When she was a recruit, Birkhoff tried to scare the newbies by telling Nikita horror stories. The rogue breaking a punching bag with just her fists and her fury was one of them. Michael quickly stepped in with the fact that the bag was already broken when she punched it, however, the damage had already been done. Alex laughed just as much then as she did in that moment.
"Damn him," Intending to joke along with her, Nikita giggled. Yet soon, her words caught up to her. Laughter fell apart on her lips, and she burrowed even further into the couch cushions. Months ago, the thought of her fiancé made her smile uncontrollably. Then, she wanted to cry. Self-hatred and fear gutted her over the fact. Things had changed, and it was her fault.
Abandoning her shake on the coffee table, Alex focused all of her attention on her best friend. She hardly knew the full details of what was going on between Nikita and Michael- half because she had her own shit to work through, and half because the couple wouldn't talk. But that had to change, "Has he come home yet?"
"He assigned Owen as my new partner," Voice hollow, Nikita shared. Her gaze dropped to her milkshake, and she absentmindedly stirred the contents with her straw. She didn't have the stomach for the sugar anymore.
"What?" Alex nearly shouted. Though, she was more upset that she didn't know that more than it had happened. How had she not caught onto that fact. Had she and Nikita really avoided any form of communication for that long.
"He's not going to be in the field anymore. He's moving on," Nikita's grip on her milkshake was ironclad. Her nails digging into the cup helped her hold it all together. She wasn't certain if she was going to cry again or explode in anger, but she couldn't do either. It wasn't only about her fucked up emotions. Other people were suffering too, namely Michael and Alex.
"But, it's Michael. He's never moved on from you. He pinned after you the entire time he was in Division and you were out being rogue. He could never leave you," Alex, however, was hung up on the information she had just received. She knew Michael wasn't going to go out in the field as much, but letting Owen replace him was something else. It wasn't right. That wasn't the Michael Alex knew.
Nikita didn't say anything for a long while. She had been thinking over Michael's decision since he had told her. Except, she didn't want to think any longer. She and Alex had to discuss other matters, "I thought Sean would never leave you alone."
It was Alex's turn to silently attempt to melt into the couch. At least the women were so close they were touching. The contact could ground them as their minds raced with thoughts of the men who were never supposed to leave them, but did. What the hell had happened in the course of their war. Wasn't killing Percy and shutting down Division their major win. Wasn't it supposed to be over. How come they were still suffering. Alex had no answers. The only thing she could actually respond to was Nikita, "Oh, yeah. Me neither."
"What happened there? One minute he was with us, the next, gone," Nikita finally asked. Sean had only told the team that he had things to do with the Seals and with his family. They had no reason not to believe him. However, Alex's rash actions and biting quips told a different story.
She should've told her best friend what had happened a long time ago, instead of turning to drugs. If she hadn't relapsed, she could've helped on so many missions. Hell, she could've been there when Michael's accident occurred; maybe then, the resulting damage wouldn't have been so terrible. Alex had fucked up, and she still wasn't exactly sure why, "I don't know. He said he loved me, then he just left. He wanted me to go with, to be safe. But the safest we've ever been has been…"
"Together," Nikita finished the thought somberly. The team had always been better together. Yet, look at them then; they were scattered beyond belief. Alex barely nodded, resting her head on her best friend's shoulder. Nikita wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her in tight. They needed one another's strength more than ever, "Is that why you started using again?"
"I don't know. I just wanted control," Hardly above a whisper, Alex voiced the small thought in the back of her head. Who knew if that was the main reason she had relapsed, but it certainly was a factor. She was tired of spiraling.
"Alex…" Nikita didn't know what else to say at first. All she could do was toss her milkshake on the coffee table and hug Alex tightly, ensuring she never let go. Although the young woman melted in her best friend's warmth, she didn't want to accept the embrace. She didn't believe she deserved it, not after what her actions caused.
"I know. I know I fucked up," Attempting to pull away, Alex practically whined. Self-hatred coursed through her so hotly, she returned to that bratty girl Nikita first met. The situations were similar, after all- she was trying to get clean after being hurt one too many times.
Despite her best efforts to keep shoving herself away, Nikita continued to hold Alex firmly. The young woman didn't get to escape her problem. They had to keep talking and facing the issue head on. It was the only way Alex could truly get clean. Nikita knew that well. Finding the reason for the drug use and dealing with it was how a person healed. That lesson was one of the good things Carla left behind, "Hey. I've relapsed too. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Yeah, but you haven't let this war get you so twisted up, you return to the one thing you know hurts you the most," Tears bit in Alex's eyes, yet she held them at bay. If Nikita hadn't cried when they talked about Michael, then she didn't get to cry over her relapse. Everyone said she was strong, even if she constantly proved them wrong. She was always weak and crumbling. But if Nikita never fell apart, then so couldn't Alex. She had to put her feelings in check.
"I wouldn't say that," Nikita muttered, brown eyes drifting towards the floor. Her hold loosened on Alex, allowing her to study the rogue carefully. She was almost afraid to ask what that was about. What had Nikita done. But before Alex could ask, her best friend shook her head sardonically, "God, what happened to us? Since when did we get so weepy over dumb men?"
"Some badasses we are," Gladly taking the way out of that conversation, Alex scoffed. So what if the two could kick ass in the field when all they did was whine and complain when they were home. It was almost as though they were living two different lives, and the ones they presented Division was only a mask.
The thought of masks wasn't an avenue either of them should venture. Nikita focused on them being badasses instead. They might have been struggling to keep their heads above water at that moment, however, the two were still indomitable. Their enemies couldn't even touch them, so why did they allow their emotions to weigh them down, "That's right. We are badasses. We don't just sit on our ass, wallowing in ice cream. We need to march right up to those dumbass men in our lives and kick their ass."
"How many more 'asses' can you fit in that sentence?" Rather than respond to Nikita's newest half-baked scheme, Alex poked fun at her wording. She was sure her friend had a point. She just wasn't up for anything just yet.
"I don't know. Like ten," Nikita grinned. The two dissolved into soft, light laughter. It wasn't quite the sound of joy it should've been, but they were getting there. They really should've talked more in order to reach that point, yet planning to kick Michael's and Sean's asses seemed far more cathartic. It was definitely an easier topic to discuss.
"So your master plan is to just yell at Sean and Michael?" Grabbing her melted milkshake, Alex relaxed on the couch. The dessert, along with the distraction, was working in full effect then. The fact that she didn't have to struggle to sip the thick ice cream was just an added bonus.
"Well, talking hasn't worked. We just need to confront our problems head on. If any of us just listened, it'll all work out," More optimism than she thought she could muster poured out of Nikita. It seemed too simple, but it had to work. The women needed it to work.
"Can we just do it in the morning? Sean is concussed and Michael is… well, Michael," Alex was slowly coming around to the idea, however, she didn't think then was the time to follow through with it. Sean remained in Medical after the concussion he had sustained on the mission, and neither Michael's nor Nikita's stubbornness should be tested after that stressful day. They should let things settle before they rush in.
"No. We do it now or never. And if it all ends horribly, then we'll crash back on this couch," Maybe just a bit too confident, Nikita sprang to her feet. She chugged some of her milkshake, hoping the sugar rush would give her an extra boost. Her entire energy, focus, and thought were being put into her haphazard plan. She had to have it pay off.
Although Alex was on the same page, reservations held her back. There was no guarantee it would all work out okay. They were exhausted from their mission and from near-death experiences. Someone was going to get hurt. The reward would be great, though. Hearts could finally be put back in place, "You really don't want to go home alone tonight?"
"Do you?" Quietly, Nikita asked. Alex shook her head vehemently. There was a reason the rogue suggested staying the night at her best friend's. Even if they couldn't manage to talk to Sean or Michael, they could at least remain together- they could always have each other.
"I'm so sick and tired of being alone," Alex admitted on a sigh. She downed the rest of her shake, ready to take the risk. Though, how much of a risk could it have been if they were talking to Michael and Sean. Things couldn't get any worse.
"Then let's just keep fighting," Nikita nodded in determination. She held her hand out to Alex, helping her jump off the couch. Their conversation probably didn't end the way it should've- they still had to completely address Alex's relapse and Nikita's strained relationship. But they at least had a positive to focus on. That could carry them through.