Once the explosion blew down the wall, Nikita gathered the illegal gambling den's money and sprinted out to an awaiting Michael. After recovering from the disaster that was Operation Sparrow, the rogues combed through the intel on their stolen black box and set out on numerous missions. Their latest involved taking down and stealing from a money laundering business for the mob that Percy had helped establish. The operation went smoothly, and Nikita and Michael were back at the safehouse without incident. Birkhoff greeted them excitedly as they eventually stumbled through the door, "Did you clean them out?"
"Yep. We got the next mission covered- and the ammo this month," Michael triumphantly dumped the money Nikita had stolen on the counter. Birkhoff had enough money from his hacking to cover the costs of being rogue, but having extra cash around helped. Since cracking open the black box, the rogues' missions were becoming more elaborate and expensive. They had to become more creative about how they went about things. Stealing from the bad guys Division had helped gain power seemed like an excellent way to do that. They battled corruption and got paid while doing it. It was a win-win.
"Great, so I still have to buy the groceries," Birkhoff snarked. Michael rolled his eyes and tossed him a stack of money to count. Despite the major losses they had suffered during Operation Sparrow, the team of rogues had managed to bounce back and scrape out some victories. A decrypted black box was a huge advantage. They were already righting wrongs and correcting the sins of Division's past. Of course the money they stole and the big 'fuck you' they delivered to the black ops organization and the governmental group that ran it were huge bonuses. But those weren't their main victories. Putting some good out into the world was.
"There's a third choice," More grave than the others, Nikita commented. She was dying to get out of her cocktail dress and jewelry (she had lost her heels on the mission), yet she needed to talk to Michael and Birkhoff first. She had had a lot of things on her mind recently and looking at all the cash in front of them reminded her of what she really wanted to do. Surely, the others would agree with her. They couldn't keep running and gunning forever, "We take all this and Shadowwalker's money, and buy a cottage in the non-extradition country of our choice."
"I'm not living with you two forever," Birkhoff instantly shook his head. Although he liked the idea of retiring somewhere where his past hacking crimes couldn't catch up to him, he couldn't retire then. There were still a lot of things he had left to do. Also, if he and the couple quit then, they'd be stuck together forever. As much as he loved his friends, he couldn't be around them for the rest of his life. There was only so much of the dynamic duo that one could take- and a lifetime together definitely wasn't it.
"Nowhere we can go where Division won't find us. Taking them down is the only way," Confused, Michael tried to understand what Nikita was talking about. A non-extradition country would help them escape their crimes and the government, but Division would still chase them down. The black ops group didn't care about extradition treaties, borders, whatever. They'd do whatever it took to stop the rogues and kill them. If the team truly wanted to retire and be free, they had to destroy Division. It was the only way. Destroy the corrupt unit of the government or be destroyed themselves.
Reaching for the black box on Birkhoff's desk, Nikita sighed. She had thought about what Michael had said as well. She'd always be running. Her entire life would always be spent running from people who wanted to hurt her. But it was possible that she could delay that pain by giving them what they wanted most. It'd definitely get a target off her loved ones' backs. And that was honestly what she preferred, "They're not looking for us, Michael. They're looking for this box. They're afraid of what we'll do with their secrets."
"Good. They should be," Birkhoff chimed in proudly. The three had already caused so much damage with a decrypted black box, and they hadn't had one for that long. Imagine the kind of damage they could do if they truly delved into the box. They could tear Division apart brick by bloody brick. They could expose the corrupt government officials that sanctioned the hellhole- as soon as they knew the identities of Oversight (their codenames were more asinine than the ones Percy gave to missions). And their war could end for good. No more running, no more hiding, no more desperately fighting. The rogues had a real plan in place: attack.
"They're afraid we'll go public, plunge the world into chaos, start World War III," Nikita continued as though Birkhoff hadn't spoken. The rogues were only a threat because they held all of the government's dirty little secrets. The second the tree didn't have them anymore, they'd go back to simply being a thorn in Division's side. Being a thorn was far more survivable than being a threat. Maybe they could make some sort of deal to remove their constant annoyance and live in peace. That was more than likely a pipedream, yet one worth aiming for. Nikita didn't want to see anyone else getting hurt.
"We would've done that already," Michael still didn't understand what Nikita was talking about. Not too long ago she had dived head first into a mission that could've burned Division down. And now she was rethinking that. What could've possibly caused that turnaround. What was she thinking. Eyeing her anxiously tapping the black box, Michael assumed it had something to do with the device and all the secrets locked within. She had always disliked the idea of poking around in the box. Could that dislike have bloomed, causing her to want to take drastic measures, "Where are you going with this? You want to give the box back to them?"
"In pieces. I would destroy it and give them proof it was destroyed," Nikita expanded on some of her thoughts. There was a chance that once Division and Oversight were satisfied that the rogues weren't going to expose their secrets, they'd let them go. The war could peter out, and people would be safe. There was a chance that was too idealistic of a plan for Nikita to make. Yet she would risk it. She would do what she could to protect the rest of her team from Division. She had failed in the past, but not anymore. She was actually going to protect them then.
"Nikita, every dirty Division op is on this box. This is a chance to set things right," Michael felt as though he was arguing with a wall. When he had first shared his idea of decrypting a black box and using it to set things right, Nikita had argued but soon relented. She had known that the truth they could reveal would help so many people far more than just burning Division down would. Yet now she was back to arguing, and she went so far in her arguing to call off the whole war. There was something Nikita wasn't sharing. And the longer she went without revealing what was on her mind, the more Michael could guess what it was.
Although Nikita knew the positives of correcting the sins on the black box, she didn't really care about how it would affect the world. She had stopped caring about the whole world after she had nearly lost all of hers. She just wanted the people in her life to be safe and happy. She wanted them to be alive and to not be hunted down. As long as that was the case, the world could suffer. That thought process probably just showed how horrible of a person she really was. But she wouldn't change her mind. Especially since trying to save the world already caused so much pain, "What if we make it worse?"
"How would we do that?" Birkhoff questioned, absolutely bewildered with Nikita's thought process. What was she trying to get at- why would she all of a sudden change her mind about their crusade. She never clarified herself. Although Birkhoff and Michael waited for her to answer, she just bit her lip, shrugged, and silently went through her post-mission cleaning routine. Michael and Birkhoff glanced at one another and sighed. Both knew they wouldn't be able to get her to talk then, so they should just follow her lead and clean up and go to bed. The team could talk more in-depth later, preferably after some rest and some time to talk.
Michael wasn't all that surprised to not find Nikita in their room by the time he began to settle in for the night. Whatever had had her so worked up required her to be alone as she thought. He just hoped that she soon realized she didn't always have to be alone. He could help her with whatever was plaguing her mind, especially since he already assumed what it might be. He was there to talk or listen or whatever she needed. Nothing would be left alone to fester and worsen. Their problems would be solved.
Eventually, Nikita joined Michael in their bedroom. He had waited up for her, doing some light research on one of the spare tablets. He wasn't going to drop whatever point she had been trying to make earlier, even though she seemed to want to. She silently got ready for bed and climbed onto the mattress beside him. He put the tablet away and turned to talk to her, but she rolled onto her side and turned off her bedside lamp. If they had been talking about anything else, he wouldn't have pressed her. But the black box and Division were pressing matters. Michael had to get Nikita to speak, "So what didn't you say?"
Nikita sighed deeply into her pillow. She also pulled the comforter over her head as if to hide. Michael reached over and turned her bedside lamp back on. Although he'd wait for whatever Nikita needed to say, he wouldn't let her run and hide from it. Obviously, her thoughts needed to be shared. She was too consumed with them to stay silent; they'd eat her alive. No matter what she was thinking, it had to be expressed. She came to that conclusion frustratedly, flopping on her back, throwing the comforter off her head, and huffing, "Sometimes, Michael, you try to do the right thing, and you just… you cause more damage."
"It's about Alex, isn't it?" Michael assumed easily. Since Nikita and Alex had parted ways at the loft, Nikita hadn't stopped thinking about her. She didn't say anything to Michael or Birkhoff. However, Michael knew what was racing through her mind. She felt guilty about Ryan going to jail for them. And she felt devastated by the loss of Alex. Every terrible thing that happened to their team, Nikita placed on her shoulders. She'd carry the full burden of the rogues if she could. But Michael wouldn't let her.
"With any hope, Alex is a million miles from this," Nikita muttered, staring blankly at the ceiling. Michael wished he could believe in her sentiment. But the way Alex had been obsessing over her need for revenge, he doubted she just left that life behind. Hopefully, she managed to escape Division and Oversight for good. Hopefully, she truly was doing things her own way. Hopefully, she was finding her own way to be happy. Yet Alex wouldn't be completely out of their war. She was forever tied to it. She couldn't be free until the war ended- just like the rogues.
"You still feel responsible for her," Sitting cross-legged, Michael turned his body to completely face Nikita. His knee bumped her hip, and he placed a hand on her abdomen. Despite the comforter covering her, he soothingly ran his thumb back and forth in a shadow of a caress. She didn't stop staring at the ceiling. His statement needed no reply. Nikita felt responsible for everything Alex did, including all her life-threatening decisions. If Alex died while she was out seeking vengeance alone and bitter, Nikita would blame herself; she'd consider herself the murderer. The whole world was on her shoulders, and nothing could absolve her of the burden.
"I put her in the line of fire," Eventually, Nikita expressed what Michael already knew she was thinking. She blamed herself for Alex's decisions. If it hadn't been for her, Alex would've never done the things she had. Hell, if it hadn't been for Nikita, half of what the team of rogues had done wouldn't have happened. Sometimes, she felt like she was a curse. With everything that had happened in her life, it'd make sense if she was. Maybe people would be better off without her. Alex had realized that. Hopefully, that'd be enough to save her. Hopefully, Nikita hadn't cursed her too.
"No, she put herself there," Squeezing Nikita's side, Michael ensured that she looked at him. He hoped the stern gaze in his eyes dispelled all the negative thoughts in her head. Alex's decisions were her own. Yes, Nikita had worked with her, had motivated, had urged her. Yet Alex was the one who had decided to help the rogues. She was the one who had willingly defied Division's orders and ruined their missions. She was the one who had chosen to stay and fight rather than run when the rogues had wanted her to. No one pressured her into anything. Alex was her own agent. She wasn't controlled by anyone, especially not Nikita.
"I convinced her to be a mole. I kept things from her so she'd stay on mission. And then I lost her because that is what I deserve," Rolling to her side once more, Nikita avoided Michael's gaze. She wasn't looking for absolution. She knew what she had done was wrong. She should've never let Alex be their mole; she should've kept urging her to escape. And she should've never lied to Alex or kept things from her. She knew how'd she feel if someone on her team- someone she trusted- hid the killchips and the truth about her family's death from her. Yet she had done that to Alex. The young woman had every right to shoot her. Nikita deserved far worse than that.
All Michael wanted to do was shout about all the good things that Nikita deserved. She had had a hellish life, yet she still chose to be a good person. She deserved love, happiness, and peace for all she had done for others; she deserved to have her compassion returned to her. Michael could go on and on about that. However, he knew his girlfriend was in no mood to hear him. His praise would fall on deaf ears. All he could do instead was hold her tight and try to comfort her, "Nikita, you didn't do anything wrong."
"I did. And now I have doubts," Nikita instantly negated. She had done a lot of things wrong. If Michael said otherwise, then he was lying. But he had always seen her in a far better light than what she actually was. He always saw a goodness in her that just wasn't there. He shouldn't do that. He was only deluding himself when he did. Nikita constantly did wrong. She constantly did horrible things. And that couldn't be forgiven. She should just stop trying to be good, and she should stop trying to save the world. She was only harming it further. She was only causing more loss. She should quit then before anyone else she loved got hurt.
"About us?" Scooting closer to Nikita, Michael asked gently. He pulled his hands away and studied her face for any kind of telling expression. A part of him was certain that he didn't have to question their relationship. He and Nikita were solid. Despite everything that occurred around them, they'd be together for as long as they could. However, her doubts and her feelings regarding the war and the team and her role in all of that had a small part of him worried. What could she be thinking about him. Was she still as committed to their relationship even if she wasn't committed to their war.
"No. No, never," Immediately snapping upright, Nikita shook her head vehemently. She could never doubt hers and Michael's relationship. She didn't have to worry about anything when it came to him. She had him and he had her forever. It was just everything else that had her feeling so wrong, so hurtful, so damaging, "It's about this crusade. To make things right and what it could cost us… I can't lose you. I won't lose you. And if that seems selfish to you, then- well- I never said I was perfect, so…"
Cupping Nikita's chin, Michael interrupted whatever else she was going to say by bringing her to him and kissing her deeply. His hold became more gentle as she kissed him back. He lovingly caressed her cheek, forcing her tense muscles to finally relax. After a few more shared kisses, he pulled away from her. Yet he didn't go far. Michael pressed his forehead against Nikita's, and he continued to caress her cheek. There was nowhere for her to run or hide. She had to stare into his sincere green eyes and listen to his promise, "You're not gonna lose me."
Smiling softly, Nikita moved herself closer to Michael. She took his hand in hers and stared at their interlocked fingers as they rested between their laps. He didn't stop comforting her with loving touches. Those doubts and fears and self-hatred would be erased from her mind before the night was through. He'd have to talk to her more directly about it once she was ready to listen to all of that. But, for the meantime, he could keep doing what he loved to do- and that was to kiss her, touch her, and tell her how amazing she was, "And you're right: you never said you were perfect. I did."
Nikita flew into her boyfriend's arms, kissing him quickly and holding him tight. Michael pulled her into a secure embrace and helped her settle onto his lap. While she buried her fingers into his growing locks and clung to the fabric of his t-shirt, he buried his head in the crook of her neck and ran soothing hands up and down her spine. His lips peppered kisses along her neck and collarbone of their own accord. The sweet affection helped her eventually loosen her hold, and the two simply hugged until exhaustion weighed them down.