Set after 3x19 "Self-Destruct". Michael and Nikita don't let Alex go home alone.
"Come on, Alex. It's time to go home," Nikita took Alex's hand and led her away from Ops. It wasn't too surprising that she was the last one there. Usually, it would've been Ryan. But he was still recovering from being shot and being in a coma. He actually went home to clean up and rest. Birkhoff and Sonya did the same, needing to escape the hell Division had become once again. All that was left was Alex.
Nikita refused to let that be for long. She tried to drag her best friend to the carport, away from the destruction and horror. Yet Alex refused. She hadn't allowed herself to rest or sit still in days. She wasn't going to start then, "No. I should stay, monitor some stuff, clean, figure out what Amanda and Owen… Sam… plan on doing with the black box…"
"Alex, no. You're coming home with me and Michael. You're gonna eat, shower, and allow yourself to rest," Interrupting, Nikita commanded more than suggested. She knew the hardest thing for Alex at that moment was to take care of herself. But she wasn't going to sit back and watch her best friend self-destruct. Too much had happened. There had been too much pain and suffering. The friends needed each other more than ever, "Please."
Halfway between the destroyed Ops and the garage that led to fresh air, Alex stood still. She knew she had to leave that place. Any longer in the place where she had caused so much pain, and she might be drawn to the medicine cabinet in Medical. However, she shouldn't be around her friends. She had already hurt the person who mattered most because she wasn't in control of herself. If she did it again, if she kept hurting her loved ones, she'd never recover, "How do we know that what Amanda did to me…"
"How do we know that what Amanda did to me won't fuck us up too? Come on," Nikita wouldn't hear it. She had told Alex that she had to start healing herself. She let her know that the life they were given was a gift. They weren't death and destruction; they could help so many people. Of course, it would take more than a few hours for Alex to believe that. She needed time to heal and love herself again. Fortunately, she had friends that'd help her no matter what.
Michael was already waiting in the car to take them home. He and Nikita easily decided that Alex would stay in their guest room for the next few days. She shouldn't be alone. They'd go with her everywhere- their apartment, Division, her home with Sean. They had neglected and abandoned her enough. They weren't going to ever leave her again.
The ride back to the city was quiet. There were too many thoughts and emotions to share. It was still so complicated- still so raw. By the time they reached the apartment, however, Michael was fairly certain he knew what he should say. Yet, he preferred to do it in private. Nikita had talked to Alex privately in the car. Then, was his turn, "Why don't you go grab some of her things from her apartment? I'll talk to her."
Nikita didn't need to be asked twice. While Alex moved to sit awkwardly on the couch, she turned back towards the door to leave. Michael held her back for just a moment, though. He didn't want to leave his fiancée alone either. But it was the only option they had, "Hey. If for any reason you don't feel like yourself, even if it's just a little bit, call me. Please."
Squeezing Michael's hand, Nikita nodded. Amanda didn't even need to be there to keep fucking with the team. She made Owen Sam. She did something to Alex in that horror chair, making her worst fears come true. And she had to have fucked with Nikita's mind as well. The birch's horrors were endless. Yet whatever hell Nikita was about to go through didn't matter at the moment. She only cared about Alex, "She won't have the chance to escape if you talk to her while stitching up her calf."
Glancing back at Alex, it was Michael's turn to nod. He hadn't even noticed how torn up she was- well, physically at least. She made sure she had every ounce of her pain hidden. She hardly responded when Nikita informed her she was going to get her things. She sat stoically, attempting not to break. Michael needed to step in. She didn't have to hold it all together, "Come on, Alex. I'm going to clean your wound."
"It's fine," Alex argued. She had dealt with the gash on her calf in their field. It should hold up. And if it didn't, so what. She deserved the pain it brought her.
"That wasn't a question," Michael commanded sternly, already moving towards the bathroom. Alex sighed. She knew she couldn't argue against him or his tone of voice. Making her stay with them wasn't enough for the couple. They had to force her to heal too.
Once Alex finally limped into the bathroom (okay, with her adrenaline gone she could see that she needed more medical attention) Michael had the first aid kit ready for her. He made her sit on the counter, and he removed her shoes and socks. She could've done it herself. Except when she tried to interfere, he swatted her away. She huffed, but he ignored her as he rolled up her pant leg. The sight of the blood and angry gash made him hold back a gasp. Things really were worse than bad if she was going to let that fester.
Silently, Michael cleaned away the blood and disinfected the deep, long wound. Alex held back every wince and curse. She needed something to distract herself. She didn't want to think or feel anything. There had to be something else she could make more important than herself. Noticing Michael be awkward with his right hand gave her an idea. She almost forgot that it wasn't his actual hand. It looked so real, yet she could see the scar where it was attached to his arm. It was just another prosthetic, "It's still weird isn't it?"
"Just have to remind myself it's still a prosthetic. There's some stuff to get used to," Michael flexed the fingers on his fake hand. Although it looked very real, the carbon fiber bones underneath definitely weren't. He had some kind of super strength with that hand. How else could he explain what happened during his fight with Owen- Sam. He shouldn't dwell on that then, however. It was still all about Alex. Her pain was far more important than his, "I'm sorry I was too preoccupied with this to notice…"
"You don't need to apologize," Immediately, Alex shook her head. The team hadn't done anything. They were simply more victims of her actions. She was the one who had fucked up; she was the one who had to make amends.
"Yes I do. There's a lot I need to apologize for. I should've been there to help you. There were more problems than just my own. I shouldn't have left you," Stilling his movements, Michael glanced up at Alex. Sincerity was bright in his green eyes. He was more than sorry for how he treated his friends, and for how he treated his fiancée after he lost his hand. He made getting a better prosthetic a priority over them. That shouldn't have happened. He knew better than to push people away when he needed them most.
"Nikita needed you," Alex looked away. She didn't want to talk about it. She knew what went wrong, and it wasn't on Michael. He had to save Nikita from Amanda. Division wasn't his problem. It was all her fault.
Michael held in a sigh as he washed his hands and prepared to stitch her leg. He knew it would take time for Alex to listen to him. He shouldn't get exasperated; he just had to match her stubbornness with his own, "I'm not just talking about the coup."
"Why not? That's where I fucked up the most! I relapsed, I let Amanda get in my head, and I was so blinded by my own fear that I got people killed," Alex couldn't help but shout. Nikita had already talked to her about what happened. She didn't need Michael to as well. Especially when there was so much kindness and sincerity in his eyes.
Sitting back down on the stepstool in front of her, Michael gently squeezed Alex's foot. He wanted her to look at him, read the earnestness in his face, as he said, "It wasn't your fault…"
"I started the rebellion!" Voice hoarse, Alex screamed. She was the one who raised dissent inside Division. She was the one to let things get out of hand. She was the one who couldn't control the situation she started. All that blood was on her hands. And it was all for nothing- a false idea someone else planted just to destroy her.
"Did you pull the trigger?" Michael already knew the answer. He also knew Alex was mostly thinking about Sean. But that didn't stop him from asking, or from phrasing his question that way. He needed her to think past her hurt.
"I led to it by believing a false, stupid, fucking story! I shouldn't have let Amanda in my head. I should've listened to you guys. I should've listened to Sean. I was so afraid, and it's all my fault. I killed everyone! So stop trying to help me. I'm not worth it," Although Alex wanted to hop off the counter and run out of the apartment, Michael had given her wound the first stitch. She was stuck there until he finished. Hopefully, that would've been soon.
"Did I kill Hayley and Elizabeth?" Keeping his focus on stitching her leg, Michael changed the subject. He didn't talk to Alex about his family much. He had only told her the basics. He doubted she knew the full story. Of all the things Nikita had told her best friend, she wouldn't have mentioned his family. That was for him to tell.
Alex didn't know what to say at first. Michael had completely thrown her off guard. Once she shook away her surprise, however, she knew she had to refute him. How could anyone think he killed his family, "What? No."
"I left the briefcase in the car. I believed Kasim's lie that it was information. I trusted the wrong instincts, and the people I loved most suffered. I killed them, right?" Michael shrugged as though what he said wasn't weighing heavily on his heart. He might not have thought that way then thanks to Nikita. But those thoughts had berated him for nearly a decade. It was still difficult to think differently at times, even when he knew the truth.
"No, Kasim did under Percy's orders," Shaking her head vehemently, Alex reminded Michael of what he had told her. He wasn't responsible for his wife's and daughter's death. That was all on Percy and Kasim. The bombing wasn't his fault, no matter how it was spun.
"Right. Percy, who later manipulated my grief and pain and turned me into a monster," Michael tried not to let his anger affect his stitching. Despite the years that had passed, he remained livid over what Percy did. Yet he didn't show it to Alex. He stayed gentle with her.
"You're not a monster," Alex had no idea what Michael was getting at, but she had to stop the train of thought immediately. She couldn't allow him to hate himself.
Nodding, Michael focused on the next few stitches. He let the silence in the bathroom stretch out for a bit before he changed topics once more. Alex was probably going to be angry with him for what he was going to say next. But, again, he needed her to think, "Well Nikita's a monster. Amanda fucked with her head too…"
"Nikita has never been a monster," Sitting upright, Alex nearly shouted again. She always hated when her best friend thought of herself that way. To hear Nikita's fiancé say that, made Alex's blood boil. Where the hell did he get off.
"What about when she killed your dad and got you sold into sex slavery?" Michael was playing with fire when it came to those topics, but he had to say them. He was close to his point.
"She couldn't save my dad. She tried, but she couldn't save us both. My dad would've wanted her to save only me anyway. And she didn't get me sold. She just put her trust in the wrong person. He sold me to the real monsters. She tried to protect me," Alex didn't know why she had to defend Nikita in front of her fiancé, but she did so without hesitation. It had taken her time to understand Nikita's actions during Pale Fire. Alex wanted to hate her. But after experiencing Division and learning the full truth, she knew Nikita did the best she could.
Finishing the last stitch in Alex's wounded calf, Michael stood and washed his hands. He cleaned the mess around them. As silence stretched once more, he didn't spare her a glance. He wanted their conversation to sink in before he asked her one more question. She had to remember her answers before he said, "Right. But you killed Sean?"
"I trusted a lie! I let Amanda mess with my pain and guilt, and it turned me into a monster! Nikita said my self-hatred could be used by others, and look what happened! I never healed myself and others took advantage. I let myself be manipulated, I put my trust in the wrong person, I… oh…" As she ranted, she finally realized what Michael was doing. Alex didn't blame him or Nikita for doing the same things she was blaming herself for. She should cut herself some slack and make herself understand the full situation, like she had with them. But she couldn't. Whereas Michael and Nikita didn't deserve hatred, she did.
"It's easier to blame yourself. But you didn't kill Sean. There's so many other people to blame. Amanda put the false memory in your head and drove you to rebel. Rachel pulled the trigger. We didn't notice what was going on with you- that something was wrong. You are not to blame. You didn't hurt him," Michael gently tucked Alex's hair behind her ear and played with the strands that fell across her back. It was a move he had seen Nikita do a thousand times to comfort her. When he did it, however, Alex instantly burst into tears.
Alex tried to fight the sobs that choked her throat and blurred her vision, but it was too great. Everything was too great for her. She clutched the countertop to keep herself steady. But it was useless. Pain and grief hit her so hard, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't do anything but let the hurt consume her, "I… the bullet was for me… if I hadn't…"
"Sean made his choice. He chose to stick by you, to fight for you, because he loves you. He tried to tell us something was wrong, but we didn't listen. He had your back the entire time. Even when he had the chance to get the hell out of Dodge, he chose to fight for you. Everything he did was because he loves you. He knew you were worth it," Gently, Michael wiped the tears from Alex's too blue eyes. He refused to leave her side. She wouldn't cry alone that time.
"And I paid him back by…" Alex couldn't even say it. She couldn't admit that she led to Sean's death. It hurt too much. And, Michael's and Nikita's words were actually starting to sink in. She wasn't completely to blame; she didn't have to carry that weight.
"By loving him too," Michael finished the thought for her. Everyone knew how much Sean meant to Alex, especially Sean. The thought caused a more violent sob to rip through the young woman. Michael was there to catch her that time. He wrapped her in a tight embrace and whispered against her temple, "I know, Alex. It's not okay, and it's not alright. But I'm right here. We're not going anywhere this time."
Alex clung to Michael. She sobbed into his chest and dug her nails into the fabric of his shirt. He let her be racked in emotion. He simply rubbed her back and continued to murmur, "This hurt doesn't go away. But you can dull the pain with time, live with it instead of being controlled by it. You just have to realize that you're not to blame first."
Somehow, Alex managed to nod. Michael just hugged her tighter. Eventually, Nikita joined the two in the bathroom with her softest and warmest blanket in hand. Neither had heard her come home. She had kept her distance while they talked. But it was time for her to include herself. She wrapped Alex in the blanket, held her close, and kissed the crown of her head, "Come on, Alex. Let's just go to bed. You don't have to do anything until the morning."
There were plenty of things to do. Except, none of them mattered. Michael carried Alex to the guest room and placed her gently in the bed Nikita had already made up. The young woman curled on her side, clutched the covers tightly, and continued to cry. Her best friend climbed into bed with her, holding her while she sobbed. Tears pooled in her brown eyes as well, yet she held them back. Her attention was all on Alex, not saying anything, just soothing her. It wasn't long before Michael curled next to them and held them both. The three laid together, crying and comforting throughout the night. Although it was all they could do, it was enough.
