An AU for 3x22 "Till Death Do Us Part". Michael doesn't recover.
The team had gathered outside the barn, ready to destroy every bit of Division once and for all. Yet Nikita wasn't with them. She had been missing for a while, needing time to herself. No one had pushed her to follow or do anything else; they knew she needed that space. Eventually, however, her disappearance became concerning. She knew she had to be outside as they blew the charges placed around Division. Staying in that hellhole meant death- it always had. She couldn't be consumed by the flames. She couldn't be another one of its victims.
A sinking, terrible sensation in the pit of Alex's stomach knew why Nikita chose to stay behind. The others could possibly guess her motivations as well- she didn't want to face the sun. But Alex knew it was much more than that. The kind of blow she was delivered, it was a wonder she even managed to talk to the team before pulling away. Someone had to go after her. She needed to be talked off the ledge.
Without a word, Alex broke off from the team to chase after Nikita. Hopefully, it wasn't too late. She could find the rogue setting a charge or… something. She wouldn't be gone- she couldn't be gone. Yet Nikita wasn't in her old recruit room, or even the shooting range. Alex found her in the weapons locker, the bricks of C-4 she was supposed to place sitting next to her on the bench. Michael's knife was in her hand, and the tip picked at the band of her engagement ring. Slowly, the young woman tried to approach, yet a hollow voice warned, "Get out."
Although the words came from Nikita's mouth, the person who spoke didn't sound like her. Maybe Alex was too late; her best friend was already gone, and all that was left was an empty shell. She wouldn't have been surprised if that was true. A month later, and she continued to only feel a shell of herself. Yet that was why she had let her friends in. If it weren't for them, she would've been lost forever. She couldn't allow that to happen to someone else, "Nikita…"
"No! Go! Get out of here," She wasn't frantic. Her screams weren't that of panic or desperation. Nikita was livid. Fury tightened around her throat and choked the tears in her eyes. Her grip tightened on Michael's knife, her wrist twitching as if she was going to throw it. Alex tried not to flinch, but she did step back. She knew better than to be in the rogue's line of fire.
"Nikita, we need to talk," Raising placating palms, Alex spoke softly. Apprehension prickled at the back of her mind, warning her of the many weapons that surrounded Nikita. She wasn't worried about the rogue hurting her, though. She was terrified her best friend would hurt herself. Michael's sharp knife was dangerously near her wrist. One flick, and it'd all be over- the worst case scenario would be reached.
"Get out of Division! You're not supposed to be here. You were supposed to take your new life. You were supposed to return to the Udinov estate. You were supposed to run off with Sean. So, go!" Nikita violently snapped to her feet. Alex had to take another step back. Fire raged in the rogue's gaze. She wasn't going to back down until the young woman finally left that hellhole. She had had so many chances to escape and never come back, live the happy normal life they all wanted. She wasn't supposed to be there. She shouldn't be involved in that hell.
"I'm not leaving you," Alex didn't care that she sounded so hurt. She didn't want to control her emotions- what was even the point. Nikita screamed, so why couldn't she. There was a reason she stayed with the rogues. It was her purpose. She had to stay and fight because that was what everyone else was doing; it was also what her friends and family needed from her. She could never abandon them, no matter the pain and heartache that burned in her chest.
"You're smarter than this, Alex. Everyone who stays with me dies. My birth mom, Daniel, Carla, Sean… Michael…" The last example broke Nikita. Tears she thought were long gone crashed to the surface and she crumbled. Alex was there to catch her, however. She held her tightly as she sobbed and as they collapsed to the ground.
She was too late. People always said she was fast, but she wasn't able to reach him in time. He had been under for too long. Even the strongest person she knew wasn't strong enough to fight that. But he should've been able to. She needed him to fight and be strong like he always had been. That couldn't be the thing that broke them. After everything, one last jab from Amanda shouldn't have been their downfall. But it was. Nikita clutched Michael's hands, begging for him to squeeze back. He was too still. She sobbed and pleaded, yet there was no reaction. He didn't even flinch. It was an eternity of nothing. Birkhoff had to be the one to call it, "Nikki."
"No! No! Michael, wake up! Wake up, Michael. Please… please wake up. Please," Ripping herself out of Birkhoff's comforting hands, Nikita shrieked. She shook Michael, hoping that would do something, anything to bring him back. Again, all she was met with was nothing. His heart had flatline with no chance of spiking. And in that moment, her heart had stopped too. All she could do was cry and scream, and never dare to let go of him. Eventually, Ryan had to drag her away from him. She fought so hard to return to his side, despite knowing that it would do nothing. She could do nothing. She had lost him.
Tired of crying, a dull aching anger coursed through Nikita once more. She was sick of it. She was done with it. Everyone in her life either died or were horrifically maimed because of her. She couldn't allow that to happen anymore. Her team needed to be free of the pain once and for all. So, she forcefully shoved Alex away from her and seethed, "And if you don't die, you're terribly injured or left to horrible men."
"None of that was your fault," Instantly, Alex reached out for Nikita. Although she couldn't say anything about self-hatred and blaming oneself for every little thing- she was just as bad at carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders- she could argue that Nikita was never at fault for the atrocities in their war. She only ever tried to protect and love her family.
"I cut off Michael's hand! I'm the reason the nano-toxins got into his bloodstream. I got Birkhoff's hand smashed. I got Sonya's killchip turned back on. I got Ryan shot. I made Owen disappear. I got Sean killed. And I gave you to the man who sold you to traffickers. Even when I save people, I hurt them. You can't be here anymore," Nikita was on her feet again, body shaking in rage. She had to do something to expel the lividity. Peace needed to return to her life. Yet with Michael gone, that would be impossible.
"What about all the good things you did? You got me clean. You saved our team and our family more times than I can count. You saved Division. You're a hero, and we need you. I need you," Refusing to give up, Alex followed after her. Nikita didn't give up on her after Sean. She joined her on a dangerous mission, willing to sacrifice her life in an effort to save her friend. She had done that a thousand times. Alex had to repay the debt.
"I didn't save him," The tears that threatened to fall were forcibly shoved aside by movement. Nikita returned to the bag she was packing before she was distracted by Michael's knife. It was filled to the brim with weapons. A special kill kit with one mission in mind, "But I can kill Amanda, like I killed Percy and Kasim. I'm going after her. You can't stop me."
Alex stared at Nikita for a second, attempting to process what she just said. Of course she had to kill Amanda- the whole team had to kill her. Yet it wasn't the right time. If they went after her then, while she was backed by the full power of the Shop, they'd be killed in an instant. Which was probably why Nikita was so determined to make a run at the bitch. She would go alone and it would all be over. Alex couldn't let that happen, "So you're going after her yourself? You can't. With the Shop and the whole world coming after you, you'll die."
"At least that bitch will be dead too," Nikita's grip tightened on Michael's knife once more, her knuckles turning white. She refused to be separated from it. She wanted it by her side until she plunged the blade into Amanda's chest. The rest of the weapons were to get past the Shop goons. She didn't care how they died. Yet the bitch would be staring into the rogue's brown eyes as the life slipped out of her and as she realized the horrors of what she had done.
"No. You're not going alone," Alex harshly yanked Nikita back to her. That was a terrible decision. The rogue shoved her away, slapping the handle of Michael's knife against her arm in warning. Unfortunately, the young woman had never been a great listener. She jerked the weapon out of her grip and it scattered to the floor. With their hands already on one another, there was nothing stopping them from fighting. Their arguments had to be won, and they had to ensure the other wouldn't get in their way.
Nikita pulled Alex's arms sharply behind her back and shoved her against the wall. Thrashing, the young woman managed to loop her ankle around the rogue's. She kicked and pulled, and the two went tumbling down. Alex pinned her friend to the floor, but only for a second. Nikita soon gained the upperhand with a fierce right hook, "Get away from me!"
Slamming her head into the rogue's, Alex squirmed free. Except, she couldn't move far. Nikita was right behind her, fists and elbows flying. There was only so much the young woman could block and return. She didn't have the same lividity coursing through her. It didn't mean she wasn't angry, though, "You're not the only one who loved him! We all loved Michael. He was our friend, our brother. You don't get a monopoly on feeling like shit."
"So you get to have a dangerous mission after Sean died, but I can't," Nikita tackled Alex to the ground. She just needed her to stop fighting. If she reigned down enough blows, the young woman would leave her alone, and she could rush off on her kill mission. Alex should've understood better than anybody why she had to go after Amanda. The bitch had destroyed her entire life. She didn't deserve to breathe the air Michael couldn't.
"I wasn't going to kill myself! You told me I have something to fight for, to live for. You do too. It's us, your family. We're your loved ones too," Matching the hits and strikes, Alex shouted. She had already lost so much. That day had only been another blow. If Nikita was lost to the war too, then who would she really have left. Her best friend couldn't give up or disappear in the darkness. It wasn't the life Michael tried to give her. Everyone had to keep living and fighting. It was the only way to keep their loved ones' memories and souls alive.
"Let me go!" However, Nikita wouldn't listen. She shoved the young woman into the ground, forcing the fight out of her. Alex had to let her go. They weren't the same. Alex could be Alexandra Udinov, return to her mother, save millions of people, and live an actual life. Nikita had never had a life, the closest she had gotten to one was with Michael. With him gone, so was that dream of happiness. Killing Amanda and dying was all she had left.
"You never let me die. So why would you think I'd let you," Alex shouted in her ear, breath harsh and panted. As the words washed over her, Nikita slowly let go. The young woman didn't shove herself away, however. She wrapped her arms around her best friend, instead, pulling her in for a tight embrace. After a long moment, the rogue returned the hold.
Neither said anything for a while. The air was simply filled with harsh pants and the formation of tears. As anger died out, and emptiness filled the breaks in the heart, crying was all there was left to do. Nikita couldn't stop it if she tried. And neither could Alex. The two held even tighter to one another as the tears flowed. They were each other's lifeline. They always had been, and they always would. They just had to talk. However, Nikita could hardly breathe. How was she supposed to talk about Michael, "How are you still breathing?"
In all honesty, Alex wasn't. She hadn't had a full breath of air since Sean had died. The only reason she could still move and live was because of Nikita. Her best friend got through to her when all she could think about was letting the darkness consume her. She helped her see her purpose, and reminded her how strong she was. Though, Alex had copied a lot of her strength from Nikita. She knew she could handle everything because so could her sister, "How'd you breathe after Daniel?"
"Escaping Division, Ketamine, and focusing on finding you," Refusing to look at her, Nikita admitted. She had merely jumped from one addiction to the next. Michael had accused her of such. She always had an obsession; she couldn't just live her life. She never truly got clean. Maybe if she had, if she gave up her crusade and settled down with Michael, he would still be alive. He would be smiling at her on some beach somewhere if she had only stopped fighting. She always thought her crusade would kill her, but never him.
"But I have you. I have my sister. If you throw your life away, it would all be for nothing. You're all this family has left. Please don't make me lose you too," Alex snapped Nikita out of her spiral. She pressed her forehead firmly into hers, forcing their blue and brown eyes to connect. Intense sincerity shone in the gaze. No one else was dying. The family wouldn't be able to survive if one more was lost.
Nodding, Nikita tucked Alex's wild brown hair behind her ears. The tears never seemed to stop, yet they were in control then. She had control over her thoughts and emotions. The rogue could still make her run at Amanda, but with the team by her side. Alex was right. If she left her family and if she died, then everything Michael fought for her to have- the last remaining pieces of him- would be gone just like him, "Amanda needs to die. For Sean and for Michael."
"Together, okay. The rest of us. No one else dies. No one else leaves," A quiet sob made her statement more desperate than determined; however, Alex's meaning was clear. Nikita nodded once more. The two remained on the floor, embracing tightly. How they were going to survive past all that pain and heartache was beyond uncertain. But at least they were together.