It was silent on the trip back to Division. The agents hardly said a word to one another on the plane. Besides a quick update on the information they had missed out on, no one talked. A part of that was because post-mission (and post-kidnapped) exhaustion overcame them, and they slept. However, the majority of their silence was because they had nothing to say to one another. They absolutely should've talked- especially Nikita and Alex. Yet no words escaped. They only shared better glances as their thoughts ran wild.
Once back in Division, the lack of communication didn't get any better. Nikita slammed the black box into Ryan's chest and stormed off, and Alex was whisked away to Medical. They had to ensure Amanda didn't do anything physically damaging to her. She seemed alright, but looks had absolutely been deceiving before. Division couldn't take any chances. Thankfully, after numerous tests and questions, Alex was all clear. Amanda hadn't turned her into a weapon to use against Division. Birkhoff shared that fact excitedly, "The scan is all clear. No hidden bombs or gas pouches. I guess Amanda knew better than to turn you into a party piñata."
Alex hardly reacted to what Birkhoff had said. She barely nodded and continued to stare off into the middle of nowhere. The hacker studied her in confusion. He had heard that she had slept the majority of the trip home, and after the doctors finished asking her questions, she fell asleep in Medical too. Her exhaustion could've simply been due to the horrible past few days. But Birkhoff worried that it could've been more than that. That long with Amanda couldn't leave anyone unscathed. Alex had experienced hell, and there was a good chance a part of her was still there, "You okay? You zonked out during the exam."
"It's been a long last few days," Alex sighed. Her assumption about Amanda constantly knocking her out with drugs in order to confuse and disorient her had evidently been correct. Alex hadn't known how long she had been with the bitch until Sean told her on the plane ride home. She really had been in and out of consciousness for several hours at a time and hadn't even known. She could see a slight blessing in that: she hadn't had to interact with Amanda for long. Yet there was just something so off about that fact. Something wasn't quite adding up. Yet thinking about it for long made her even more tired and confused and angry.
"How are you doing?" Catching the conflict on Alex's face, Birkhoff questioned. After Amanda had tortured him, he had been an absolute wreck. If Nikita hadn't made him talk about it, he didn't know what would've happened; he probably would've drowned himself in a bottle and never resurfaced. He was grateful he had his team to help him heal physically and mentally. He had only been in the bitch's grasp for a few hours, though. Alex had been with her for days. She must've gone through far worse hell than Birkhoff could even imagine.
"Neck's a little stiff. I think I slept on it wrong," Rolling her neck to stretch out a weird kink she had begun to feel, Alex offered. Of all people she would talk about her time with Amanda with, Birkhoff hardly made the list. She wasn't in the mood for any sarcastic quips or nerdy references she only somewhat understood. And she especially wasn't in the mood for any sympathetic looks. She only wanted to go home and forget all about her time in South Ossetia. Or at least try and forget.
"You were probably talking to her, weren't you?" Birkhoff asked softly. He was glad that the Medical staff left him and Alex alone. He could ask her to open up about her time with Amanda without the threat of anyone overhearing. Whatever Alex shared would be completely between them; she could let her fear over being trapped with Amanda overwhelm her. No one would know how scared she was. Though, it wouldn't be a surprise if she was. Talking to Amanda had always been terrifying, even when she was in Division. Since she was their enemy, it had to have been so much worse. Alex was lucky to be back with them physically unharmed.
Her mouth opened, however, Alex's mind wouldn't cooperate with her tongue. She hadn't talked to Amanda for long. Besides being angry at Nikita and believing twisted versions of the truth, the bitch hadn't said anything new. Alex could talk about it and even rant about how obsessive and delusional Amanda was. Except, she didn't. She didn't say anything about what had happened while she had been held captive. Instead, her anger washed over her, and her mouth clamped shut, "I'm fine."
"She pass?" Before Birkhoff could call bullshit, Sean stormed into Medical. He had stayed away for as long as he could, giving the doctors space to accurately examine her; although he desperately wanted to keep her in his sights, he didn't want to do anything that'd mess with the results. Yet, as soon as he heard that they had finished, he rushed back to Alex's side. He had held her the entire journey to Division, refusing to ever let go of her again. It was more touching than the couple ever displayed in public, but Sean didn't care. He had to assure himself that his girlfriend really was back in his arms. And he had to assure her that she was safe in his.
"With flying colors. She's the same old Alex," Birkhoff truly meant the former. But the latter gave him pause. Alex snapping that she was fine when she clearly wasn't was on par for how she normally acted. But her absolute avoidance of her time with Amanda seemed off. She would've normally said a word or two, even if it was sarcastic. Instead, she was acting like Nikita. Maybe it was just the extreme trauma of the incident. Maybe it was the grief she felt for the woman who had died. Or maybe Birkhoff's own fears were making him read too much into the situation. Regardless, nothing seemed as okay as it should've been.
"You sure you're okay? You had me worried there," Tenderly caressing Alex's cheek, Sean stared adoringly into her bright blue eyes. The couple ignored Birkhoff as he slipped out of the room, giving them a private moment. The two were completely absorbed in one another. Alex rested a hand on Sean's forearm and smiled softly. She was honestly feeling a lot better with him there. She was less tired, less anxious, and far less angry. His presence helped calm a storm that had been raging in her head since her argument with Nikita. She could actually think clearly and breathe easily with his hands on her.
"Yeah. If anything, I feel better than ever," Alex honestly replied, squeezing Sean's arm reassuringly. When she hadn't been sleeping, Alex had been thinking about Amanda, Larissa, and Nikita. At first, her thoughts had been a jumbled mess that was an absolute headache to parse through- seriously, she had had a terrible migraine. But as she leaned on Sean for support and comfort, everything became clearer. Everything made a lot more sense- enough for her to start making the first concrete and determined plans she had had in a long time.
Smiling brilliantly, Sean was so relieved to hear that. He kissed Alex until she was smiling like him. Then he sat so close to her they breathed the same air. He knew he should've left it at that and taken Alex home. However, what Owen had said in the truck came back to him and haunted him. It was ridiculous to believe, and even more ridiculous that he was going to bring it up then. Yet Sean had to say something about it to Alex. Not really to question her, yet to assure himself that they were perfect- that they were going to be happy together forever, "Listen, there's something Owen said about us…"
"There's nothing Owen could have said about us that I don't already know. And what I know is you had my back," Alex instantly vanquished the doubt from Sean's mind. She didn't know what Owen could've possibly said that had caused her boyfriend to think that way, yet it didn't matter. She and Sean were good- they were perfect. She never had to worry about him abandoning her. Nikita, on the other hand, had let Alex down. She never thought that would happen. But her so-called best friend had deserted her. She had put Ari and Amanda above her. What kind of friend did that, "Nikita didn't."
"She had a mission," Sean said, a tad confused. Stopping Amanda from unlocking the black box had been the mission after they had saved Alex. Although a woman was in danger, Nikita couldn't abandon that. Besides, she would've joined them in saving Larissa once her mission was done. She hadn't completely deserted Alex. Nikita would return to her. She simply had to do her own thing first. Sean didn't necessarily agree with the saving Ari aspect of it, but he was behind her in stopping Amanda from using the black box. Those secrets could never be released. The whole world would be in danger if they were.
"She always has a mission- her mission," Alex muttered bitterly. Because of Nikita and her mission, Larissa died. An innocent woman needlessly lost her life because Nikita wouldn't do what Alex wanted for once. How many more times was that going to happen before the solipsistic rogue realized there was more to life than her crusade and her war. There were other people suffering besides Division. Weren't they supposed to save all of them. Alex was going to. She was going to save everyone. No one else was going to die because of her- or Nikita.
Debriefing after the operation didn't go how anyone wanted. Alex was rushed to Medical, Sean was distracted by his girlfriend, and Nikita refused to speak to Ryan. Only Owen gave a reliable account of what had happened, yet it wasn't enough to fill a report. Rather than push the issue, Ryan just let it drop; he had known what had gone right and what had gone wrong, anyway. The agents were allowed to go home and rest after the mission. Though, again, only Owen did. Alex was still in Medical, Sean hurried to his girlfriend's side, and Nikita disappeared into the maze of Division.
Although Michael knew Nikita had disappeared so she could hide in her thoughts, he chased after her. He refused to let her simmer in her rage about the black boxes or her grief over Ari's death. She needed to talk- they both needed to talk. Fortunately, he didn't find her truly hidden away. She was pacing out in the open- in the carport- attempting to calm herself down. Whatever calming technique she used didn't work. She remained on the edge, and she instantly snapped once she saw him, "Why didn't you tell me about the killchip?"
"You wouldn't have listened," Michael poorly explained his actions. Nikita hardly ever listened to him, yet he always tried to talk to her anyway. That time shouldn't have been different. After all, if Birkhoff had expressed that he should've told Nikita about the killchip, then he seriously should've told Nikita about it. Keeping her in the dark had ultimately led nowhere. She had still found out about the killchip, Ari had still died, and everyone had still gotten hurt. Lying was pointless. Except, Michael would still repeat those actions. If it was to keep his wife safe, then he'd do anything.
"So you kept me out of the loop?" Nikita could not fathom Michael's reasoning for not telling the truth about the killchip once he discovered it. She would've told him if he was going into hostile territory with a captive who had a bomb in his head. She would've told him if Ryan had decided to use a weapon Percy had favored. Keeping silent was stupid. He told her everything else, after all. He trusted her. So why lie about the killchip. Why not tell her that no one thought Ari could be saved- that she had fought for the man's life alone.
"It wasn't my call. But for the record, I think Ryan was right. It was risky. We could have lost everything. I could have lost everything," Michael attempted to take a step towards his wife. He knew he couldn't completely excuse lying to her. They had promised and had tried to tell one another everything. Keeping each other in the dark wasn't helpful and wasn't healthy. However, he had had his reasons to lie then. He could never risk losing Nikita. If that led him to make stupid decisions, then he'd just have to live with that. But he couldn't live without her.
Honestly, sometimes Michael made it so difficult to argue with him. When his reason for doing something was because he believed it'd keep her safe, she couldn't yell at him to knock it off. How selfish would she be if she told her husband to stop loving her and to stop protecting her. Nikita couldn't argue against Michael's decision to lie to her. However, she could argue against the killchip and rant about how terribly things had gone, "You know, say what you will about Ari, but in the end, he's one of Amanda's victims. And if we're not in the business of saving people from Amanda's cruelty, then what are we doing, Michael?"
Michael had no idea how to answer Nikita. There were times where he wasn't sure what Division was doing anymore. The team of former rogues had clear intentions when they had decided to help clean up Division before they shut it down for good. But between private missions, the President's ultimatum and blue folders, and a lack of communication that caused far too much drama, the team lost their way. They were just stumbling and falling op after op and suffering for it. The latest operation was just further proof of that. Nikita's mutter expressed it all, "I told Ari I would save him, and he knew he was lost. Alex left. And we lost."
For the first time, Michael noticed tears in his wife's eyes. He doubted those were all for Ari Tasarov. Yes, she was upset that she couldn't save someone she had promised to save. And yes, she was upset that someone else had been lost to Amanda's cruel schemes. But Ari Tasarov couldn't have affected her that much. No, she was close to tears because of what had happened between her and Alex and what that had led to. Gently, Michael took a step towards Nikita. Yet seeing Alex in the doorway stopped him.
The young woman didn't seem as though she was entirely comfortable, but her eyes were trained on Nikita like she was her entire reason for being there. Michael didn't doubt that she was. Alex and Nikita had to talk. What had happened between them in South Ossetia couldn't be ignored. So, although Michael wanted to comfort his wife, he left the two best friends to talk in private. He told Nikita where she could find him, then stepped out of earshot. Alex and Nikita didn't start talking once he was gone. They stared at one another for another tense moment longer, unsure what to do. Alex was eventually the one to break, "So…"
"So…" Nikita knew she had to say more than that. She had to address what had happened in the field, she had to ask about Amanda, and she had to apologize for what had happened with Larissa. However, the way Alex gazed at her left no room to communicate. She didn't seem angry exactly- anger, Nikita could work with. Instead, Alex seemed distant, drawn away, still half-stuck in whatever hell she had experienced in South Ossetia. What had happened to her while she had been Amanda's prisoner.
Nikita wanted to ask. Yet even if she did, there was a chance Alex wouldn't tell. She hardly said anything about her time with Amanda- besides the fact that she was questioned and a woman had helped her. Even Sean couldn't get her to talk as they had flown home. Was that just the trauma of the event, or was there more. What could Alex have been holding back. But before Nikita could pry, Ryan barged in and interrupted, "I just want to say, job well done. Look, I know we had some differences over tactics, but we got Alex back, and we recovered the black box. And I cannot argue with those results. You guys really do make a great team."
Neither Alex nor Nikita said anything in response to Ryan. They simply continued to stare at one another, attempting to read the other's thoughts. They used to be good at that; they used to be able to know what the other was thinking, feeling, and doing with just a glance; they used to work so well together. But, all of a sudden, a wall had been built between them. Alex had pulled away from Nikita- separated from her. If it was because of what had happened in the field, then maybe Nikita deserved it. But if not, then she really needed to know what the hell Alex had gone through. And how that had hurt her more than she was willing to admit.