She's in my arms.

I've been through hell before. So has she. But the last few months have been terrible. For us both.

We've made it this far. Through all the horrors that Section had caused us.

Modifying Nikita's emotions. A mission marriage. The death of the boy that Nikita related to as a brother. Being trapped in a mental institution.

Being taken from a mission spot by a man who was clearly insane.

But it's all fine now.

We've gotten through the trials.

I can't get to sleep. I should be able to. I haven't slept in a week.

The rain is pattering against the tent, making a loud sound against the vinyl.

Nikita is fast asleep. I wish I could join her.

It's hot. As reluctant as I am, I roll away from her, trying to cool down. To breath better.

A mistake. I roll too far, causing a pole to become undone. The tent caves in, Nikita immediately awakens and crawls out of the tent as fast as she can.

I follow behind.

She's soaked already. Her blonde hair is darkened, plastered upon the sides of her face. Her teeth chatter, goose bumps mar her usually smooth skin, visible in her tank top.

I look at her with an apologetic look upon my face. "My fault." I whisper, ready to survey the damage.

Instead, she grabs my wrist, rooting me in place. Keeping me from saving her from the elements.

She laughs, like it's not cold and pouring. She wraps her arms around my wet form, looking up at me in a mixture of sleep and happiness.

"What ever am I going to do with you, Michael?"

Staring in to her blue, blue eyes, I know my answer immediately. I'll do anything for this woman. Anything. I'd give my life just to give her a minute of joy to ease a frown from her face.

"Anything you want."

I heard my voice whisper the words, but it takes a moment to realize I had actually said them out loud. I hadn't meant to. It just...slipped.

A smile appeared on her pillowy lips. She places a kiss upon my own. Apparently, it was the right thing to say.

She seemed satisfied as she continued to lavish my jaw, cheeks, lips.

But it's not enough.

It's not the words she deserves to hear.

I can't bring myself to say them. I haven't spoken them to anyone with real meaning since Simone.

And she's dead.

I trust Nikita with my life. But I don't trust her enough to not leave. I don't trust enough to put all faith in her that she won't make me shatter again. At least not yet. It's a place I simply can not go. it has nothing to do with the way I feel for her. It's just an obstacle I can't seem to get over just yet.

I want to trust her. Badly, I do.

But I can't trust her to not leave.

Not that I care. If anything happens to her, it's all over for me anyway.

First bullet that comes my way, I'll make sure it hits it's target.

So what's stopping me from saying it?

I open my mouth. They don't come out.

I pray one day they will.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO