Slowly gathering his thoughts, Michael couldn't talk Nikita down. Even when he told her who he was, she continued to glare at him like he was going to hurt her- or like she was going to hurt him. Either was possible in her condition. God, how could she be high. Wasn't she in Division. Didn't Amanda have things in place so addicts couldn't relapse. Wouldn't Percy kill her instantly if he knew. What was Nikita doing. And what was Michael doing just standing there. She needed his help. There had to be something he could do to make up for the pain he caused her. He had to be able to protect her like he hadn't before. Maybe then was his chance.
If only he could get her to understand that he just wanted to keep protecting her. When Michael tried to approach her, Nikita went for the attack. Honestly, he was lucky she was high. Although she was still extremely dangerous, he managed to dodge her sloppy fists. Her stance was wobbly, and he could take advantage of that. He swept her off her feet and quickly knocked her unconscious. What he was to do with her after that escaped him. He could take her to the safehouse and help her get clean. But how the hell was he supposed to do that. He guessed he'd just have to improvise something; though, that eventually earned him a slap to the face.
"At least I'm not stupid enough to get high the second I split," What was wrong with Michael. He knew better than to stoop to her level. She was angry and hurting; of course she slapped him when things got too real. He had to remain calm, help Nikita understand no one was going to hurt her ever again. Snapping at her simply made things worse. She struggled to pull out of his hold and run away from his sight. He refused to let her go. That only made her start screaming again, however, "Stop fighting me. You're only going to get hurt."
"You have no idea how much pain I can take," Nikita seethed. She was probably right. Michael didn't know what had happened to her since he left. She more than likely went through hell and back a million times within the horrid walls of Division. However, that didn't take away the fact that she was experiencing terrible withdrawal and constantly fighting him. She violently twisted one last time in his grasp, her shoulder popping. The sound of it shocked him so much, he let go of her to see if she was alright. That was when she slammed her head into his and sprinted out of the bathroom.
Michael had to take a second to recover. His head throbbed and his thoughts were scrambled. But he had to fight through the fog so he could chase after Nikita. Birkhoff hadn't returned from obtaining some new computer tech, so at least that wouldn't be an issue. Yet she still couldn't escape. Who knew what kind of disaster could befall them- her. Fortunately, she couldn't go far. Her sudden movements and the pain in her shoulder caused bile to rock her stomach and her head to swim. She stumbled in the hall, crashing against the wall. He easily caught up to her and pinned her in place, "Will you just talk to me?"
"Why did you leave Division?" Instantly, Nikita spat. Her face was pale and her eyes slipped closed to fight the ringing in her ears, but she was resolute in her demand. She didn't care about herself or wherever the fuck she was. She just wanted answers from Michael. She needed to know why he left her and Birkhoff. She wanted an explanation for her anger- a reason to actually hate him. Yet, most importantly, she wanted to know what was so damn important to him that he broke his promise to her.
"It's not about Division, and it's not about you. It's about my wife," Matching her intensity, Michael finally admitted. The fierce suddenness of his confession surprised even him. Nikita's eyes snapped open to look at him in panic. Her gaze dropped to his left hand, half-expecting a wedding ring on his finger. Confusion marred her features deeper when she didn't see one. She couldn't comprehend what he was telling her. And neither could he.
He hadn't expected to tell Nikita anything about his family; he hadn't expected to tell anyone about them ever again. The truth just slipped out of Michael. It forced itself to be shared, filling the air between the two. Maybe it was so she would finally understand him. He needed her to understand his point of view. She had to know what was occurring. Though, Michael was aware that being honest with her was about more than that. It was a compulsive need of his to tell her everything, and he couldn't figure out why. At least she couldn't either, "Your what?"
"And my daughter," Michael continued as though Nikita hadn't spoken. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken about Hayley and Elizabeth. It had to have been right after they had died, when Amanda was helping him process the pain. Those asinine therapy sessions didn't last long, however. He buried the memory of his loved ones so deep, that once they resurfaced, he was shocked they were still there. Except, they still needed to be felt. They needed to be shared with someone else he cared about.
"You're married and you have a daughter?" Unsure whether to be livid, concerned, or what, Nikita barely breathed. What the hell was Michael telling her. Since when did he have a wife and daughter. Did it happen after he escaped. He had fallen in love and started a new life outside Division. Or, had he always had them, and those moments he had had with her were false- a figment of her imagination. She honestly didn't know which truth was harder to swallow.
"No. I… I did. They're gone. They were killed in a car bomb, March 21st, 2001," Michael let Nikita go. He didn't have the strength or energy to pin her against the wall anymore. What was the point anyway. If she ran then, so be it. At least she was learning the truth. He was able to be honest with somebody. Some of the pain that had gripped his heart slightly lifted at the thought. He wasn't struggling alone. He had someone that could be there for him, if she would accept the burden. He didn't expect her to. She had her own shit to deal with. To take on his as well would be too great. It might've been better for her to just hear it and let it all go.
However, Nikita wasn't going anywhere. She stepped cautiously towards him. Every ounce of fury had drained out of her, and she could feel the gut wrenching sorrow that etched across Michael's face. It had been a little less than ten years since he had lost his family, but the pain of it was still so present. It was almost like he couldn't bear the weight of it. God, did she understand that. A part of her wanted to reach out and soothingly stroke his cheek, yet she held herself back. She didn't think she could touch him, "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Nobody knows. Only Percy, and Amanda. Now you," Michael wouldn't look at her. Nikita shouldn't give him her sympathy. He wasn't exactly looking for it. He was simply trying to help her. In fact, his focus shouldn't even be focused on his own pain at the moment. Her shoulder was still dislocated. He should help her pop it back into the socket, ease the discomfort coursing through her body. As he gently moved her arm and slipped it back in place, she didn't flinch. Maybe that was a good sign. Or, she was simply enthralled by his words, "And Kasim."
"As in Kasim Tariq?" That was a fact Nikita actually knew. That name made sense to her, and she could hold to it to ground her. So much was coming at her so fast. She wasn't sure what to process first. The amount of Ketamine flushing out of her system didn't help. In fact, it made everything worse. Her body slumped back against the wall, needing to rest. Since her shoulder was fixed, the bile in her stomach made itself known again. She fought to control it. Michael hadn't finished expressing what he had been holding back.
"In 2001 Kasim wasn't a famous terrorist. He was a low level snitch. And all that changed when he betrayed me. After he killed my family, he became a hero in the ranks of Al-Qaeda. That's the reason why I joined Division in the first place. To find him and kill him," Finally, Michael connected his ever-so serious green eyes to Nikita's imploring brown. She was hooked on his every word. She wasn't fighting him anymore. He probably should've told her everything a long time ago. It was obvious then that she would've been far better off on his side of the war. Yet, what was hindsight if not a cold hearted bitch.
"And did you?" Quietly, Nikita wondered. That would definitely explain why he left. Michael had completed his mission; he could then spend the rest of his days destroying what he knew to be evil. He had used Division, and he was willing to ensure no one else could. Nikita could somewhat see the nobility in that. Since he had avenged his family, he was going to avenge others as well. It was far more heroic than she had ever been.
"No. But I did find out he was a Division plant, ordered to kill a Naval intelligence officer so he could be a mole inside Al-Qaeda. He missed, killing the officer's family instead," There it was, the full truth. Boiling lividity filled Michael's veins. He didn't think he would ever not be furious with what Division- with what Percy- had done. It was beyond unforgivable. There was no reason for it, no justifiable excuse. Hayley and Elizabeth had died for nothing.
Nikita couldn't stand any longer. Whether it was the shock of his statement or her swimming headache, she wasn't sure. It was possibly an awful mix of both. As she slipped down the wall to the ground, Michael held her arms in support. Why the fuck was he comforting her anyway. He was the one going through hell. She was just a bystander to his pain. She had thought what Alexandra had gone through was appalling. But apparently, Alex wasn't the only one who lost everything to the hellhole she was forced to work for, "Division killed your family."
"Alexandra Udinov reminded me of my daughter. She's only a couple years older. She made me take a deeper look into Kasim. I couldn't let any more kids die. That was when I found out the truth. So, I left. I have to destroy Division, Nikita. They can't hurt anyone else," Sitting in front of Nikita, Michael practically pleaded with her. She had to have known that by then. She seemed as distraught by the truth as he felt. She was also there, at his safehouse, instead of at Division. He still didn't understand why she finally left. But there was a chance it was for a similar reason he and Birkhoff had.
"I know. You're not the only one who saw their past through Alexandra," Nikita muttered. Although she didn't want to, it was only fair that she told Michael her truth as well. He had shared so much of his heart while she just sat there. The sentiment had to be returned. Their understanding had to go both ways. Maybe if it did, he'd let her return to where she was. She wasn't exactly sure she wanted to go back there. However, she knew she couldn't stay wherever she was with him. Her presence only ruined things. If Michael and Birkhoff wanted to keep whatever they had going for them, then she had to leave. She had to leave them for good.
"What are you talking about?" Michael's hands remained on Nikita's forearms, keeping her from going anywhere. He should've removed them. He didn't need to be touching her, or gently running his thumb across her bronze skin. That had to cross a line. They weren't at that point; they were nowhere near it. Just because the two were sharing their stories, didn't mean he could hold her like they were friends- like they were closer than friends. He should let her go and give her space. Except, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pull away from her.
"I thought I could save her. No one ever saved me, but I could be that chance for her. I gave her to a family friend that night, hoping she would live as normal a life as she could," Although Nikita refused to look at Michael, she didn't slip out of his hold. She knew she shouldn't, but she found comfort in his touch. It was almost like how things used to be for them. They could pretend for a moment that nothing had been ruined. Division and her actions had never stepped between them. They could be friends again.
For the briefest of seconds, Michael thought about kissing her. She was still his Nikita. She hadn't let Percy or Amanda completely claw their way under her skin. She continued to raise hell and act from her heart. Except, she wasn't his. He had to remind himself of that. Nikita wasn't his, and he couldn't kiss her. Michael didn't even know why that thought had been his initial reaction. It was probably just the euphoria that an innocent really had been saved from Division. The hellhole didn't always win. He was so in awe, "You saved Alexandra Udinov?"
"She was sold to sex traffickers. She escaped, but not the junk they hooked her on. Now she's just like me. She's too much like me," Immediately, and tearfully, Nikita negated. She didn't do anything. Alex was never saved. Her death was only prolonged, and she was thrown through incomprehensible hell beforehand. Nikita had made everything worse by playing the hero. She was possibly a worse villain than Percy and Amanda.
"She's in Division?" Michael felt as though the air had been stolen from his lungs. That had to have been what Nikita meant. Alexandra was just like her because she was a tortured junkie turned Division recruit. Fighting the strong pull of tears, Nikita nodded. How was that possible. How did a victim end up inside the hellhole after being saved. That had to have been the cruelest twist of fate imaginable. Michael was fairly certain that it was worse than what he had experienced. At least he had some control in his actions. Alexandra never stood a chance.
Shoving herself away from Michael, Nikita did everything she could to not break down. Where was another hit when she needed one. She had to get out of that safehouse. She had to keep running, keep forgetting. All of her pain and guilt had to vanish. She needed to kill the monster within, "I tried to get her out, but she wouldn't come. Amanda caught me and I had to run. I never saved anybody. I made it worse. I'm still a monster."
"No, you're not. You did the best thing possible. Trust me. You did something good," Michael reached for Nikita again. She couldn't slip away when they were moving so close. That would've been a grave mistake; saving someone's life definitely wasn't. She had to see how amazing she was. There was good mixed in the bad. He was completely aware of that. Ignoring everything only made the pain worse. There had to be a balance in order to live.
"Just shut up," Struggling to her feet, Nikita bit. She just felt so weak. She couldn't handle anything, nor did she want to handle anything. The best thing for her to do was drift off, never to be seen again. Whether that was with the help of drugs, or just wasting away until she died, she didn't care. None of it actually mattered. As long as the monster that resided inside her heart was destroyed, then all would be right with the world.
"No. Not until you believe you're worth it," Fiercely grabbing hold of her arm, Michael yanked Nikita back to him. It might've been easier to just let her go, but he refused. He wanted to save the people hurt by Division, didn't he. Then he should start with her.