Five Years Earlier
She felt sick. She wasn't even sure how she managed to hold it together during her debrief with Amanda. Her heart beat against her chest so harshly, it began to hurt. She couldn't even take a full breath of air; her chest wouldn't expand. Everything was shallow, including her vision. Things around her were splintered- nearly shattered in appearance. She couldn't concentrate on anything. It was all too much, even if she was hardly processing anything at all. She felt sick. Her stomach shook, and her throat closed off. Thoughts were racing in her head, but she couldn't concentrate on them. They were just too damn loud.
Nikita fucked up. She had fucked up, bad. She knew that, and the knowledge was killing her. Although she was trained to lie, to hide her emotions, to operate without her feelings overwhelming her, she had reached her tipping point. How she managed to slip past Amanda without landing on the inquisitor's radar ws beyond her. She had fucked up so badly, she was certain the world was going to open at her feet and she would be swallowed immediately- she would be canceled immediately. If anyone knew what she did, she'd be killed. The target she saved would be killed.
How could she have possibly thought that saving that thirteen year old girl was a smart decision. Had Nikita actually saved her. The instant anyone discovered Alexandra Udinov was alive, it'd be a death sentence for the agent and the girl. Alexandra couldn't live a full life. She'd have to hide, lie, and survive in fear. She also lost her whole family, despite Nikita's interference. The girl was alone in a world that hated her. Maybe death would've been a mercy, even if she was innocent. How could anyone survive after such a tragedy.
Alexandra was saved, but at what cost. Nikita had entrusted her to a family friend who swore to care for her. But what was that care worth when she couldn't live. She was alive but not living. And it was Division's fault. There was no other way to spin it. The girl's death and survival all hinged on Division agents. They killed her family. And because of one rogue element, she was left alone to suffer the pain. All Nikita had done was prolong the moment Alexandra would die, and she sealed her deadly fate as well. Her decision didn't lead to a happy ending. Only pain and destruction came with that tale.
However, not once and possibly never in a million years, did Nikita regret her decision. She defied orders. In a hellhole that forced loyalty or death, she had been brave enough- strong enough- to break ranks. She did the right thing, despite the potential punishment of death. Alexandra didn't have a happy, peaceful life anymore, yet she could still live. She didn't have to die in another person's war. She was only a girl. She didn't deserve to die, no matter the hell awaiting her. Alexandra could keep breathing. She could have the opportunities no one had given Nikita. The thirteen year old could survive for the both of them.
Some of the anxiety lifted from Nikita's shoulders. She let herself relax, taking in a deep breath. Things could be alright. Saving Alexandra was a good thing- a great thing. No one would find out the truth. Percy and Amanda would remain in the dark. Though, if they ever did find out, the world would surely burn. Nikita quickly shook the fearful thoughts away. She wouldn't allow it to continue destroying her from the inside out. She was stronger than that. She had proved just how strong she was. She had actually risen above the ashes of Division.
As Nikita warred with herself, wrestling with crippling doubt and sickening anxiety, she wandered aimlessly around Division. She had managed to escape her debrief of Operation Pale Fire with Amanda once things turned personal. However, she remained within the bunker's halls, lost and afraid. She needed to shake herself free and return to her apartment. There, she could have a break, feel more like herself. But she just couldn't get out. She kept circling, spiraling, until she slammed into a solid, sturdy, warm wall, "Watch it… oh. Hey, Michael. Sorry."
"Hey. It's okay. All my fault," Michael reached out to steady Nikita, strong hands resting on her defined biceps. There was something about the touch that grounded her. She could focus on her surroundings- settle into place. The two were in the hall outside of the old shooting range. Birkhoff had provided some virtual reality upgrades to target practices, lending a more realistic and practical feel to the training. That left the range practically abandoned. Only a few still used it, mostly those looking for some sort of privacy.
Privacy didn't actually exist in a place like Division. Recruits and agents could only pretend as they hid in their rooms and apartments. Sometimes, a vacant room no one wandered into could provide a sense of privacy. Nikita certainly found that in the air vents that led to the silo. Michael must've found his solace at the old target range. He definitely appeared as though he needed a moment alone. His skin was flush, and he gripped her tightly. It was as though he needed her to help him stay connected to where they were. He seemed just as sick and lost as she had felt, "Yeah, I can see that. Where's your head, Space Cadet?"
"Could ask you the same thing," With a twitch of his lips, Michael flipped the question on her. He didn't quite wear his usual half-smile that always managed to draw her near. His expression was pained, forced. Nikita wanted to demand an explanation for it, but he soon dropped his hands from her arms. The loss of warmth left her in a bit of empty shock. Her body wanted to chase after his touch, feel his heat all over her skin. But her mind reeled at the idea, stumbling to catch up with her abrupt change of emotion. She had been so scared not two minutes ago. How could she feel a quiet peace all of a sudden.
"Oh. You know. Post-mission exhaustion. Did you know Roan snores?" Instead of confronting any of the confusing and complicated things around her, Nikita changed the conversation entirely. The surprise of it caused Michael to laugh. It was a bright sound, easing the air around them. She smiled softly. Her lips couldn't help but lift as he expressed such joy. He smiled along with her. Maybe seeing her relax helped him calm as well. That was a stupid thought for her to have. She couldn't have that much sway over him. They were as close to friends as Division would allow, fellow agents, nothing more.
"Unfortunately I did. But what's really on your mind, Nikita?" God, how was it that he could always read her mind. Michael's gentle grin remained, yet his green eyes bore into her. He was attempting to study her, understand her. Whenever Amanda did that with her cold, piercing eyes, Nikita felt the need to run away and hide. But as Michael looked her over, she felt safe. He wouldn't use what he discovered to hurt her. He could help her if she let him. She was tempted. She was really tempted to tell him what actually happened at the Udinov estate. But it wasn't just her life at sake. She couldn't risk Alexandra's safety.
"What's on yours?" Nikita shot back. Michael had done that to her; it was only fair she did it in return. His smile faded and his gaze dropped. He didn't seem as frantic as before, but his skin remained flushed and his hands tightened into fists. A darkness settled across his brow that made her want to pull away from him. She didn't, however. That would only make things worse. She brought herself ever so close to him, resting a tender hand to his cheek. The motion was more instinctual than actual thought for her, and it caused surprise to replace his darkness. He stared hopelessly at her, melting a little at the soothing touch, as she whispered, "Are you okay?"
"Just… tired… It's exhausting waiting for you to come back. Who knows what stupid thing you could've done," Stumbling through an excuse, Michael eventually settled on a distraction. He took her hand in his, squeezing briefly yet tightly before dropping it back to her side. Another fake smile appeared on his face. He hoped poking fun of her rashness would return them to their banter. The two were great at light conversation. Circling the point was their forte. Anything deep frightened them off, even if they were overwhelmingly concerned for the other.
It was Nikita's turn to avert her gaze. She finally took that step back from Michael, retreating into herself. Doubt ate away at her once more. She really had been stupid on that mission. Although she had been planning to save Alexandra from the moment she was briefed about the operation, she had been incredibly rash. She didn't consider the consequences until after the fact. Nikita had done great- she did such a wonderful thing in saving an innocent girl. But she and Alexandra were going to experience repercussions for that act, "Pretty stupid."
"What?" Michael asked. Fearful that he had heard her mutter and understood what she meant, Nikita's brown eyes shot back up to meet his. He just kept staring at her, however, more confused than he had been. Words tumbled on her tongue, pressing forcefully at her mouth. She had to tell him. She could trust him with her life, maybe she could trust him with Alexandra's as well. But she quickly swallowed the urge down. The risk was too great. And she didn't want to endanger her friend's life like she had endangered hers.
"Yo, Nikki, Mikey, what are you two still doing here? The bunker went lights out an hour ago," Birkhoff's voice immediately drove Nikita and Michael apart. She cleared her throat and he clenched and unclenched his fists as the hacker approached. Whatever moment was occurring between the two agents disappeared. All that was left was the powerful look they briefly shared. Brown and green eyes locked in a strong connection and silent conversation. They weren't done. They had to return to that instant once the nerd left them alone. If they would ever be given the time alone again, that was.
"Debrief," Nikita mumbled as Michael choked out, "Research." Birkhoff didn't believe them. Though, she wouldn't have believed them either. They were far too uncomfortable, far too anxious, and far too close. Anyone that knew the two would assume they had been up to something inappropriate. After all, the way they sparred was a bit more emotionally compromised than it should've been. Nikita was aware of that, even if she had no idea what it meant for her and Michael. Maybe they really were more friendly than Division would allow.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I won't share what I was up to either," Birkhoff rolled his eyes. The agents should take the out the hacker was giving them. If anyone else in Division had caught them alone in a practically abandoned hallway, they'd have reported the two instantly to Amanda or Percy. Birkhoff, on the other hand, had Michael's and Nikita's backs. They could all forget the moment and take the opportunity to joke around instead. The agents leapt at the chance.
"Probably cause it'll get you canceled," Smirking, Nikita nudged Birkhoff. She had meant the comment offhandedly. It was the kind of dark humor recruits and agents were used to after their lives were threatened on an hourly basis. The joke got the hacker to laugh and nudge her back; however, she froze. When would she ever learn to think before she spoke or acted. Her own fears over what she had done tumbled loose. The slip up could get her caught. Or, the fear of everything could continue to cinch her heart and make it harder to breathe.
Michael stared at her deeply again. She must've paled as realization struck her. Either that, or he was catching on to what was bothering her. Nikita had to distract him, at least until she could collect herself. Fortunately, they weren't the only two in the hallway. Birkhoff was a great third wheel. He could obliviously continue the jokes as if nothing had occurred. They were just three agents making fun of each other, "Don't joke. You know you'll miss me."
"Yeah. I'll miss being able to blame shit on you," It was a struggle, yet Nikita was eventually able to shake off her dread. She was probably going to be fighting her anxiety for a long time. But she was fairly certain it was worth it. Defying orders, saving a life, it had to be worth the aftermath. She gave an innocent girl the chances no one gave her. It was a good thing. She just had to breathe. If she relaxed, then everything would be okay.
"Well, you could always find a new fall guy," Michael scoffed. Again, Birkhoff reacted to the quip as Nikita froze. The hacker's eyes rolled while hers bore into her handler. From all the time they had spent together (too much time), Nikita had learned to read the slight shifts in Michael's tone and expressions. He was always so serious, but she had managed to crack the code to read him like a book. And at that moment, his tone and expression were filled with bitter hatred. It wasn't directed at his fellow Division agents. No, it was directed at something darker.
He did a great job at hiding his lividity from Birkhoff. The hacker didn't notice a thing. Yet Michael's knuckles were bone white as his nails dug into his palms. Nikita wanted to comfort him like she had before. She wanted to touch him once more. But she shouldn't with the hacker right there. Also, she began to believe her handler's comment had to do with why he had been so upset. Something about a fall guy pissed him off. If that was the case, she shouldn't broach it. She should just let Birkhoff keep joking, "Haha, you're hilarious. So we grabbing late night takeout together, or not?"
"Ew. Why would I ever eat with you?" Feigning disgust, Nikita returned to lightness. It was so much easier to joke and play around. She didn't feel as sick with Birkhoff and Michael nearby. They were a strange comfort in Division- in a place that didn't have any form of peace. If she focused on them and the possible fun she could have, she'd finally move past her anxiety. She'd be back to herself. Actually, she didn't think she could ever be herself again after what she had done. But she could be something better. She could be more than what was around her.
"Go on without me. I still have work to do," As Birkhoff and Nikita bickered about whether or not her comment was a 'yes' or a 'no', Michael attempted to leave the hall. Unlike his agent, he hadn't been able to bounce back from his anger and ill feelings. It was too much to handle. His moroseness was palpable then. Nikita and Birkhoff quit their teasing to study him. There was no chance for them to change his mind. He was stubbornly set to pull away.
"You sure?" Nikita closed the gap that had grown between her and Michael. Hanging out and eating food wasn't an immediate fix to their problems, but it could be incredibly helpful. Besides, she and Birkhoff had gotten him to smile despite himself before. If he spent more time with them, they could do it again. She was feeling better and so could he. She just wanted him to smile at her again, keep her grounded to that world.
"Yeah. I'm sure," Refusing to look at her, Michael left. Nikita and Birkhoff shared a silent, concerned glance, yet neither chased after him. They knew better than to poke the bear. However, Nikita regretted that decision. She should've gone after Michael.