Nikita was having an anxiety attack. She woke from a nightmare, spiraling right into absolute terror. Her breath was labored, her heart was racing, her lithe body was shaking, and tears stung in her brown eyes. She was aware of the attack, however, there wasn't anything she could've done about it. The panic had her in an ironclad grip. She just clutched at her comforter and tried not to sob. Thoughts were bombarding her, nearly choking her mind. When had it all become too much. The war was always hard and trying; it always frayed her senses. But then, it felt like it was going to kill her. She wasn't going to survive the onslaught.
Ryan was dead. Michael was gone. And Birkhoff was tortured. It was all her fault. She involved Ryan in her crusade, putting a target on his back that got him killed. She made a decision for Michael, one he didn't fight her on; he swore he could have both the war and his son, but she made him choose Max. And she had Birkhoff go on that rushed intel op, which led to him being captured and tortured by Amanda. Their team's pain was all her fault. She was the reason they were all suffering.
However, Nikita wasn't going to talk about it. Birkhoff needed to heal; she had to support him, not the other way around. She was able to save him from Amanda's clutches. It caused them to lose a black box, yet no one cared about that. As long as the nerd was safe, they'd do anything. She was fortunate to have her brother help her save him. He had to put up an act in front of Amanda about siding with their mother over her, but he helped Nikita destroy the black box. If they couldn't have it, there was no way their enemies could. Sean had been great lately. He even looked out for Alex while his sister couldn't. He was helping them all move forward.
Not at that moment, however. A sob ripped through Nikita, and she clutched her blankets tighter. She couldn't breathe. Yet her mind wasn't focused on that. She was thinking about the empty side of the bed; she was thinking about Michael. He should've been there. He should've helped her steal those bearer bonds that forced the Oversight meeting (which Sean got them the location for). He should've helped her save Birkhoff in person rather than over the phone. And he should've been in bed with her. She needed his strength to fight the panic. She needed his warmth to stop her shaking. She just needed her partner.
Why wasn't he there. Why did she let him go, and why did he stay. Why weren't they talking. They had secured phones they could call each other on. They could actually communicate. Either both were too stubborn to make first contact, or both were too hurt. Nikita desperately wanted to talk to him. She missed him so damn much. But she made no move to reach for her cell. She sat in the middle of the mattress, attempting to battle her anxiety attack. She was losing drastically. There was no way she could've done it on her own.
Her thoughts were demons. They consumed her whole, leaving her bare to the cruel world around her. She thought of Ryan dying in the hospital bed, of Michael staring at her from the sidewalk, and of Birkhoff's mangled hand. Those images tormented her. They merged into one horrific event that had jarred her awake. But the worst of them all hadn't been in her nightmare. Instead, it ate at her constantly, clawing at her heart like a feral beast. She had seen Madeline Pierce, after the intel op went to shit. The Oversight members were scattering, and Nikita needed to bolt before Division arrived. She ran into Sean and Madeline on the way to the exit. She saw her. And the expression that crossed the senator's face tore at the rogue.
Madeline appeared shocked. She hadn't expected to see Nikita. She froze in place and stared at her adopted daughter. Then her expression shifted. It morphed into something heartbroken, yet joyous. She looked relieved to see her daughter. She looked like she could smile easily, despite the pain from the last ten years. Madeline almost stepped towards Nikita to wrap her in an embrace. And that was what drove the rogue insane. Her adopted mother still loved her; it was glaringly obvious. She'd scream if she had any control of her breathing.
How could Madeline want to kill her and hug her at the same time. How could she hand her over to Percy and claim it was out of protection. And how could Nikita still love her back, despite everything. When she saw her adopted mother, she nearly burst into an excited grin. She felt like she was home. But it was a lie, an illusion. She had to sprint away from her, from Division, from it all. Home was within reach, but she couldn't have it. She lost her team and her family. She was suffering alone. Awake in the dead of night, she was fighting to survive an anxiety attack. And no one was there to provide support.
When the attack finally ceased, Nikita decided she had to get out of there. She had to keep running from Oversight; she had to keep running from her adopted mother. So, she was going to check on Owen and his black box and Guardian hunt. They needed a new box to stay ahead of their enemies. They couldn't lose their lead in that fucking war. She made the decision on her own without the advice of anybody. She simply told Birkhoff and Sean before she jetted off to Owen's last known location (she also pestered the nerd to take his meds, and she pestered her brother to look after him). She didn't inform Michael of her plans at all. They hadn't talked since she saved Birkhoff. Neither knew when they were going to talk again.
Keeping all of those thoughts to herself nearly killed Nikita. They clawed and ate at her throat, waiting to be screamed at the top of her lungs. Eventually, they all spilled out on a quiet sob. Owen asked how she was doing, and she crumbled. Even after an initial brush off, she still gave in to the crushing weight. She was just so tired. It had been ten years of fighting, and she was getting nowhere closer to home. Not with Ryan dead, Michael gone and maybe not coming back, Birkhoff physically and mentally tortured, Alex lost to her crusade, and Sean still believing she could go home to their mom. She just wanted it all to stop. She couldn't handle any more heartache.
Possibly thanks to all the times she had comforted him, Owen was able to lift Nikita's spirits. She was a hero. She was using her pain to ensure no one else felt the same. When she finally made it home, she was going to have the happily ever after she had gifted to everybody else. It took Nikita some time to believe that. She honestly didn't think she was deserving of the praise. Her team's suffering was her fault, and she had done so many cruel things to others. How was she even remotely a hero. She couldn't save those she loved most, so how could she save the world.
Michael did come back, though. That was a shining spot on a dark day. Ari might have made off with a black box (seriously Owen, getting involved with Gogol), but her partner returned to her. He'd always return to her. However, then wasn't the time for the two to finally talk. There were Guardians on the loose, and a black box to secure. Nikita should've had Michael join her. She wanted her partner to have her back out there. But she wasn't ready to talk. She wanted to process more, before delving into the feelings she had locked away. She didn't need to break down into tears again. It was time to keep pressing forward.
Yet as she trekked through the woods towards Ari's last known location, her mind kept wandering. Nikita recognized those Russian woods. She had definitely snuck through them before, especially near that looming estate. Of course Gogol and Zetrov were working together, and of course it would be out of the former Udinov estate. When she returned to the beach house, she'd find a way to inform Alex about it. Chances were she already knew, but she wanted the young woman to be prepared for what she was stepping into on her path of revenge. God knew she would've loved some hints of what she had experienced.
Her adopted mother was definitely one of those things. Madeline's expression continued to haunt Nikita. Everytime she thought of it, she nearly screamed. It wasn't fair. She had been tossed aside and hidden away. She had been ruthlessly abused by the organization her adopted mother had created. And at that moment she was being hunted by them, a kill order hanging over her head. However, Madeline still cared for her; she still loved her adopted daughter. Nikita's stupid heart felt the same, and it tore her up inside. She shouldn't have cared so much after everything her adopted mother had put her through. But Sean's asinine words repeated in her head: 'she was trying to protect you'.
Nikita would've been lying if she said she hadn't thought of that excuse before, that Madeline was doing her best to protect her from Division's witness cleaning tactics. Those thoughts ran through her mind after Operation Pale Fire, and after she told Alex about the mission. She had killed Nikolai Udinov to save Alexandra. She got her out of fire and into what she thought was safety, by shooting her father. She didn't like to consider those parallels. It was different circumstances. She didn't give Alex away to evil men, and she wasn't attempting to destroy her. She also wasn't the one to rip her away from her family. That was all Division and Oversight.
Shaking away her thoughts and feelings, Nikita focused on entering the house. Her best bet was the basement. She'd cut the power and grab the black box in the confusion. It wasn't her smartest action plan, yet it was the only one she had. She had been able to operate off of improvisation before; she'd be fine. In her attempt to not let her thoughts continue to down her, though, she almost missed the other person in the basement. Guns were drawn and aimed at one another in an instant, but a shot didn't ring out.
The rogue found herself relaxing a little at the sight of the young woman. Slowly, she approached Alex. Relaxing as well, she let Nikita near her. Both were confused at the other's appearance, yet that didn't stop either of them from pressing on. The women weren't as alone as they had thought. They had someone to fight with them in Gogol territory. There was so much that needed to be worked out, except that could be dealt with in time. For the moment, Nikita had Alex and Alex had Nikita. They could see some sort of light at the end of their tunnels. It wasn't all lost.
