Nikita's eyes were wide with fear as Dimitri slapped her across the face and pinned her to the bed. The image of Dimitri holding the knife that killed her father only making her more afraid. His one hand captured both of her wrists and held them against the bed above her head. His other hand came up to her face and traced the outline of her jaw, smoothing her hair back. "Such a beautiful girl you have become. So beautiful." As he said this his hand dropped from her face to unbutton his jeans.

Quickly Nikita realized what his intentions were and began to struggle underneath him. "Noooo......please....don't," she spoke in between sobs. The more she struggled the more it seemed to turn him on. Quickening his pace he pulled off her pants and underwear. Holding her down he thrust into her and a cry escaped her lips as she pleaded with god to help her. To let this end.

Her dreams flashed to a year later when she was 10 years old. Her mom had been dating Dimitri ever since he had killed her father, but for those three years that he had been gone Dimitri still wrote letters to Nikita's mom. When he got back his violent ways didn't stay away for too long. For about two months he was nice to her mom. He cooked for her, cleaned occasionally, but that never stopped him from having his way with Nikita. The day that she found out what Dimitri had been doing she tried to stop him. Told him not to. But that only made the situation worse. Dimitri yelled at her mom. As Nikita huddled in the corner she watched the two. "You want me to stop! You want ME to STOP!! Fine, then we're finished. I'm outa here!" "Dimitri, wait! Please don't go. I'll do anything you say...please don't leave me. You can do whatever you want...I promise I wont care. Dimitri, I love you," her mom pleaded. Her eyes showed an abundance of compassion and emotion. Something she had never given to Nikita.

From that day forward, any of her mothers boyfriends where allowed to do whatever they wanted to Nikita. Dimitri only stayed for another 10 months. A year after he had started seeing Nikita's mom again, he was gone. She never saw him again and was eternally grateful. Nikita stayed around her mother for another 4 years. At the age of 14 she could stand it no longer and hid a knife under her pillow. The day Antonio came into her room and laid her down on the bed to rape her was the last time anyone would rape her again.

Antonio smiled at her as he unzipped his jeans and slid his hand up her thigh. It was normal for her to know what to do when they were like this. It had happened so many times before that when she raised her hands and gripped the bed underneath her pillow, Antonio thought nothing of it. Nor did he realize her true intentions until it was to late.

Gripping the knife, Nikita took a deep breath and looked him in the face. "Please, stop. Let me go!" Antonio laughed at her, he was twice her size and she had already learned from their first experience together not to put up a fight. He knew she wouldn't fight him, or so he thought.

After telling him to stop and having Antonio laugh in her face, Nikita knew what she had to do. She could not continue to live like this. Quickly she took the knife out from under the pillow and stabbed him in the thigh, bringing the knife out of his leg and kicking him off of her at the same time. Running out of the house, she could hear Antonio shouting obscenities and knocking things over. She wandered the streets until the next day. Returning home to find Antonio not there, but instead her mother waiting for her. The moment she walked in the door her mother was there and hitting her with a belt. "Are you insane?! What did you think you were doing!" As Nikita fell to the ground and tried to shield herself from the sting of the belt on her skin her mother continued to hit and scream at her. "Can't you ever stop thinking of yourself?! Can't you ever think of me and my happiness! I love Antonio! He WILL come back to me! Don't you know that when you hurt Antonio, you hurt me!" Nikita's mother continued to beat her. Hitting her with the belt buckle over and over. "Please mama! I cant live like this anymore. Please...don't," Nikita forced the words out in between the blows she was receiving. "It's all your fault! Your father would still be alive if it wasn't for you! If he hadn't cared so much about your happiness and just gotten the divorce like I wanted he would still be alive today! Its your fault! I wish you were dead! I should have never had you, you were always trouble." Her mother threw the belt down, picked her up by her shirt and threw her against the wall. Nikita dared not fight back. Whenever she fought back before against her mothers boyfriends, they would always beat her mom. That was part of Nikita's punishment for being bad they would say.

She didn't ever want to hurt her mom. Nikita's father had loved her mom so much when he was alive that in her heart she thought she owed it to him not to fight back. To try to protect and stick up for her mother whenever possible. Ever since her fathers death, Nikita's mom continued to make her believe that her fathers murder was her fault.

"Get out! I never want to see you again! Do you understand me? When you walk out that door I don't want you to ever come back," Nikita stared up at her waiting for the next blow. She received none. Only was pulled to her feet as her mother shouted at her. "I said get out!" Opening the door, her mother pushed her out of the house and left her to wander the streets.

Her dreams then revealed flashes of her life on the streets. Wandering here and there. Sleeping in alleys and hunting through garbage cans for food. Occasionally sleeping at homeless shelters. She lived on the streets for years but not once would she sell herself. Nikita found other ways of making money. Pick pocketing was something she became especially good at. No one ever caught her at it and most of the time that was how she survived. Stealing the money of others so she could buy a new pair of clothes when it was cold out and her clothes were torn, or to buy a little something to eat.

Because of the injection she had been given to make her fall asleep, she was able to let her dream run its course. The last flash she had seen was what changed her life forever. For better or worse she had no idea. They both had their pros and cons. It was the murder of the cop she had been wrongly accused of killing. As she walked down the alley, which at the time was her home, she had heard cries of pain and went to investigate. Her eyes wandered to the ground were a dead cop lay and then to its killer...her fathers killer, Dimitri. They struggled and she got the knife out of his hands, only to have the police catch her holding it.

****************

With a sharp inhale of air into Nikita's lungs, her eyes shot wide open. Quickly she controlled her breathing. Immediately after waking up, two guards untied Nikita's wrists and escorted her into the interrogation room. Putting the shackles around her wrists, and hanging the chain on the hook protruding from the ceiling, they unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it up towards her face and around her neck to expose her bare back and stomach. At that moment Stephen walked in. Standing beside him was a guard holding a whip.

Stephen's eyes roamed over her body, a smile on his lips to show his satisfaction. Sighing as though disappointed to get back to business, he met Nikita's eyes with his own. "While you were sleeping we were able to see your dreams. Why didn't you fight back?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Letting out a resigned sigh, Nikita focused her eyes above Stephen's shoulder. Her unwillingness to talk clearly visible. Taking a syringe out of his pocket, Stephen injected Nikita in the neck with a full dose of the truth serum. As the drug began to take affect Nikita knew she wouldn't be able to fight the drug as easily as last time. She would have to tell the truth about something and it might as well be about her past instead of the section.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Stephen repeated his question from before.

"Because I didn't want them to hurt my mother." Nikita replied, never taking her eyes away from the spot above his shoulder. She refused to look at him.

"Didn't she beat you?" Stephen stood before her, asking question after question. Trying to see what made her tick. Trying to find out something they could use against her. "Yes," the short reply came from Nikita. No emotion in her voice at all. "Then why protect her?" He started to walk in slow circles around Nikita. "Because I owed it to my father. He loved her so much when he was alive that I thought I should protect her. My father would have wanted it that way."

"The man who first raped you, who killed the cop and framed you for murder...the one you call Dimitri. In your dream you pictured him holding a bloody knife different than the one he used for the police officer. Did he kill someone else? Someone you knew?" He knew he had found something the moment she closed her eyes and opened them only to look down, and then into his eyes. "Dimitri killed my father when I was 6 years old." "Tell me about it." Stephen could see the inner turmoil inside Nikita. She didn't want to tell him and was fighting it as much as possible. In the end the truth serum won. "I came home from school and entered my apartment, only to find it a wreck." Nikita began, her voice breaking with emotion. "The couch was overturned, lamps broken, pictures were knocked off the wall. I called for my father but he never answered. As I made my way towards my parents bedroom I heard someone fall to the floor. When I reached the doorway my father was dead, his lifeless eyes staring up at where Dimitri was. When he noticed that I was there, he pulled the knife out of my fathers body and turned towards me, and I ran." Nikita's eyes dropped from Stephen's and she closed her eyes. Wishing that the questions would stop.

"You never told anyone. Did you Nikita? You let the one thing in your life that you loved die. Why?" Stephen questioned Nikita, never once taking his eyes away from her face. He knew exactly how to get a reaction out of her now and was experiencing her reactions first hand when Nikita suddenly yelled at him.

"I was afraid! Okay! I didn't want to die! Is that the answer you were looking for?! Is it?!" An emotion filled breath was taken and could be heard as a silent tear rolled down her cheek. Nikita continued, the raw emotion coloring her voice. "It's all my fault. I let my father's murder case go unsolved because I was afraid to die."

Stephen watched Nikita, noting her downcast eyes and the far away expression on her face. He was intrigued to find out this new information. Just another card to play in the deadly game of cat and mouse that the two were playing with each other's minds. "So you think it is your fault?"

"It is my fault! I could have told who killed my father, but I didn't. I didn't tell because I was weak. Because I let my fear of dying get to me, and now that I'm not afraid to die...Its too late. He will never get the punishment he deserves because I was afraid." Nikita's once sorrow filled voice was now replaced with self-hatred.

Seeing that their current path down memory lane was indeed quite an advantage. Already leaving her emotionally struggling and what he hoped was her also emotionally breaking, Stephen decided to go for the kill. "You know how much a child can love their father, so tell me. Who is my father?" Nikita continued to remain in what looked like a world of her own. It was as if Stephen and his men no longer existed and his question went unanswered.

"How do you know my father!" Stephen's hand flew out and smacked Nikita out of her trance. At once Stephen knew that he had mess up, as Nikita's deep blue eyes glared at him. Sending shards of blue ice into his very soul. The emotional slip on Nikita's part was now gone and none knew if they would be able to get it back. Taking her face roughly in one of his hands he stared back at her. "Answer me Nikita." The only reaction he got was for Nikita to spit the blood coming from her lip right onto his face. Stepping back and wiping it off, he signaled for the guard. After leaving the room Nikita's *punnishment* began.

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Back at the Section Birkoff had recorded everything that had happened. Knowing that Michael would want to know *everything* that had been said while he was gone, Birkoff started recording the moment anything started happening. As he listened to Nikita's words after her dreams, Birkoff was shocked to say the least. He had never thought that Nikita had witnessed her own fathers murder. Birkoff couldn't even believe that she had been raped. There never was anything in her files about that, or even hinted towards rape. How had she been able to elude the section? How could she have kept it from all of us? Those thoughts rapidly swam through his head but were interrupted as his laptop beeped repeatedly...signaling an urgent message.

Michael was there waiting for him on the screen, as soon as Birkoff saw his face Michael was already talking. "What has been going on?" Birkoff sighed and shook his head. "Michael...I think it would be best if you waited until after your mission to listen to the recordings." Michael's face held no emotion as he replied to Birkoff and stated a simple fact. "This mission is easy enough for a recruit to do. We both know that Operations is only doing this to keep my attention off of Nikita. If anything, hearing the tapes would only make me get this mission done sooner, and as it is I am supposed to be gone for four more days. By the time I get back Nikita's mission could be over with."

Michael paused as he waited for Birkoff to think over his words. Finally making his decision, Birkoff picked up a disk and started sending all recordings to Michael's computer. "It's all there. Just don't tell Operations or he'll have my hide for this." A slight smile almost came across Michael's lips at the young computer genius' words. Severing the connection with Section One, Michael quickly downloaded everything Birkoff had sent him and was suprised and grateful that Birkoff had also given him access to hearing everything from Nikita's transmitter as it was happening.

His mission was one of the slowest Michael had been on in years. He couldn't even remember having a mission that was this uneventful and boring. Having the over abundance of downtime on this mission, Michael started to listen to the recordings. But the more he listened the more his heart sank. Hearing everything, From Nikita's witness to her fathers murder to the rapes and then to her complete innocence, had been a total shock to him.

Then after feeling like their hearts could not sink any lower, both Michael in Washington, and Birkoff back in Section, felt Nikita's pain as they heard the whip crack.

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Nikita closed her eyes and held in a scream, never making a noise as the whip fell across her stomach, leaving trails of blood to run down her belly. The guard alternated off. First using the whip on her stomach and then on her back. After every few strokes he would wait. Let her body relax, and then hit her again, the tension in her body quickly increasing with every hit.

By the time he was through it was already well into the third day of her stay with Red Cell. When the guard was done Stephen did not enter her room but it was the guard who asked the question that had been repeated for the past three days. After receiving no answer but only a carefully placed emotionless mask, efficiently hiding her real pain, the guard lifted her roughly off of her hook and dragged her into her cell. Once the door was shut and Nikita was left alone with the darkness yet once again, did she slowly, and with much pain, take her shirt from around her neck and place it over her body. As soon as the cream silk shirt was over her back it began to stick and turned red in most places.

************

After slitting the throat of the guard, Nikita quietly grabbed an AK47 and a knife from him and crept out the door of her cell. With no one around she ran down the hall to where the computer area was. Taking out the 2 guards at the door, Nikita knew that she would have to be quick. There had to be someone watching her cell, via surveillance equipment, and they had to see her escape. Opening the door and shooting the operatives around the computer, Nikita pushed the dead bodies out of her way and sat at one of the terminals. Hacking her way into the mainframe, Nikita established a satellite link to Birkoff back at the Section and downloaded the directory and all of Red Cell's information to him.

With less than a minute left to download, Red Cell guards made there way into the room. Diving behind a desk, Nikita waited until there was a break in the shooting and rolled out in front of them, shooting as she went. Seeing that the download was complete, Nikita popped up from behind the other desk and killed the remaining 4 guards in the room.

From studying the layout of their base before the mission, Nikita knew exactly were Stephen would be. Completing the second part of her mission would be the hardest for her. It didn't matter if he had her tortured. Nikita believed that there was still that small innocent part of him left. The fact that he was Operations son only made it harder for her to kill him.

Making her way down the corridors, killing any guards that got in her way, the alarm blaring throughout the entire building, Nikita made her way to Stephen's quarters. He had been sitting at his computer, watching the surveillance video's for any sign of her. Stephen didn't even know that she was behind him until it was too late.

Stephen ducked at the exact moment that a shot was fired, his computer now destroyed, he turned to face Nikita. "You gonna kill me Nikita? You wont kill me. When you had my entire team killed before, you still let me live. Besides, the guards heard the shot, are probably following the trail of dead bodies that you left, and if you kill me they will be here any minute. The only way that you will make it out of here alive is if you let me live, take me hostage, whatever."

Taking a deep breath, Nikita prepared herself for what she was about to do, what she had to do. "Sorry Stephen...but that's not in the mission profile." Fear crept up into Stephen's soul as he now knew that this had all been planned. All along Nikita had known what they would do, and now was carrying out her mission to bring down Red Cell and himself. Those were Stephen's last thoughts as a carefully aimed bullet, entered Stephen's skull between the eyes. Quickly and painlessly ending his life.

Nikita stood frozen to the spot, he hadn't been armed, and she had killed only for the good of the Section, something that Nikita thought she would never do. Only seconds after the death of Stephen, guards started filling into the room, all guns were trained on her and Nikita had no way out. Knowing that she was defeated, Nikita dropped her gun and knife and put her hands out, away from her body.

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"Sir, we just received the information on Red Cell." Birkoff's voice shook with nervousness, and the raw emotion of what he had to say as he stared up at Operations and Madeline.

"Did we achieve closure?" There was a pause as Birkoff dropped his gaze from the head of Section. "Birkoff...do we have closure?"

A..All mission objectives were met...except for one. Ni...Nikita never made it out sir." Birkoff was expecting to be receiving Operations anger but instead was met with Madeline's. "What do you mean Nikita never made it out!" Madeline quickly pushed Birkoff's chair around to face her as she stared down at the young operative. "Exactly what I said. Nikita sent the information to Section, canceled Stephen....but then she was surrounded. They are holding her now. How do you want to proceed?"

"We have to leave her there, just like the mission profile...she has to find her own way out." Operations replied, as the far away look came upon his face. His mind finally registered that his son was dead...and he had ordered his cancellation. After Operations had walked away towards his tower, Madeline waited until he was out of hearing distance. "Birkoff...forget what Operations just said. If we leave her there they will kill her...that is not an option. Pull Michael from his mission and send someone to replace him."

"But Operations will.." Quickly interrupting Birkoff in a harsh voice, Madeline explained her reasoning. "Forget Operations! Michael is the only one that is capable of retrieving Nikita. We need him here...not on some low level mission usually assigned to recruits!"

As Madeline walked to her office, Birkoff contacted Michael and relayed Madeline's message. Quickly doing her bidding, Birkoff let only the thought of what Operations was going to do when he found out cross his mind, but pushed it away as he searched for an operative to replace Michael.

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Hour's later; hurting, bleeding, and utterly exhausted, Nikita felt as though she would never make it out of this alive. She watched as the paddle again came towards her body and contacted with her skin, sending a bolt of electricity shooting through her. The paddle was removed but her body continued to shake from controlling the urge to scream and voice her pain.

Stepping into Nikita's line of vision, the leader of Red Cell spoke to Nikita in barely controlled rage, his Russian accent becoming increasingly noticeable...to him, this was revenge. "I do not ask you any questions because that is not my intent. My only objective is to make you suffer. To be punished for the deaths of my comrades....especially for those who suffered a death by your own hands. Stephen...he was important to Red Cell, but expandable. The death you will suffer greatest for, is the death of my brother. We were both young when separated from each other, grew up in different countries. But somehow we found each other 26 years later and together joined with Red Cell. Only for him to be taken away from me because of you...during our war with Section One two years ago. YOU WILL PAY!! I will make sure of it!!"

Moments later, Red Cell's leader and his hostage were met with the sound of gunfire. Quickly turning to his guards he uttered his commands to start phase 2 and slipped out the door, running down the hallway towards his office. Turning the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks to face the barrel of a gun. Surprised brown eyes meeting cold green ones. A slight French accent meeting his ears and sending a chill down his spine. "Where is she?"

After receiving no answer the man in black shot him through the heart and continued on his way, determined to find the brightness of his soul that had been taken from him.

The end of the hallway only contained one door, of which Michael quickly set a small charge and blew the door open. Shooting the two remaining guards, Michael scanned the room and felt as though he no longer had the capacity to breath. There, hanging on the wall was his angel. Bloody and broken, her breath so shallow that he was afraid she was dead.

The sounds of Michael's team taking care of the remaining Red Cell guards in the compound was blocked out as he slowly walked to Nikita and lifted a shaking hand to check for a pulse. Letting out a sigh of relief, he found her pulse....weak but a pulse non the less. Working quickly, Michael unchained Nikita from the wall and she slipped into his arms.

Michael kneeled down in a pool of Nikita's blood with her cradled in his arms, feeling that her life was slipping away from him. He looked down at her bruised face, moved her bloodied hair to the side, and looked upon the face he would always think of as beautiful. "Nikita, I am so sorry that I didn't arrive here sooner. Its my fault." Then he kissed her gently, feeling that it might be the last time he would ever get to hold her in his arms again. They sat there for over a minute. Nikita unconscious and Michael cradling her. He felt her stir and a gleam of hope shone in his green eyes. Michael brushed the back of his hand across her cheek in a loving caress as he called to her softly... "Ni-ki-ta"

A groan of pain escaped her lips as she opened her eyes to see Michael's beautiful face looking down at her, his eyes full of tears. Tears he hadn't even know he had shed. "Michael," she managed to say. It was getting almost to hard for her to breath and even harder for her to talk. Closing her eyes, Nikita tried to escape the pain, only to open them to Michael's pleading voice. "Nikita, open your eyes! Don't leave me. Ni-kita...I haven't felt this way about anyone before. I feel more strongly about you than...than I ever did about Simone. And it scares me. I wouldn't be able to live without you."

She looked deep into his eyes and found herself looking into his soul for the first time. The wall he so carefully built had come crumbling down. Michael reverently stroked her face as she winced in pain, noticing now how pale and sickly her face had become, noticing that her breathing was becoming more and more labored. "I love you Ni-ki-ta. I love you." He had opened up and given her his heart and soul. Nikita looked up into his green eyes...an image she would never forget...and forced herself to raise her hand and touch his cheek, wiping away the many fallen tears. Knowing it would be the last time she would ever get to see his beautiful face, to touch his silky hair.

Taking a haggard breath, she forces four words out that caused Michael great confusion. "Out...of the...Shadows." Looking at her with confusion in his eyes, he kisses her one last time. Taking her last breath and with the last of her strength, Nikita confirms the feelings she too has always felt for the man in front of her. "I love you Michael." After forcing out her whispered confession, Nikita slowly closes her eyes and her hand drops from her lovers face.

Michael, checking for a pulse and finding none, gather's Nikita into his arms and rocks her back and forth. His heart not wanting to believe what his mind knew to be true. "NIKITA!!!"

Ted ran into the room to find the scene laid out before him. Red Cell had been set to self destruct in a matter of minutes. He had orders to get Michael out and knew that there was nothing he could do for Nikita...she was dead. Pulling on Michael's arm and having him shove him away, only to continue rocking Nikita's lifeless body, Ted knew this wouldn't be easy. "Michael...we have to leave...Red Cell's gonna self destruct. Come on!!" Starring down at Nikita's face and brushing the hair away, Michael never heard Ted, nor did he want to...he wanted to die with Nikita.

Not one to go against orders, Ted pulled out a tranq-dart and shot Michael. In a matter of seconds Michael's body fell to the ground and Ted picked him up, carrying him out fireman style. As they neared the van, Red Cell's compound behind them erupted into a fiery ball...killing everyone and everything living inside.

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Michael stormed into Madeline's office, swearing at her in French, Russian, any language he knew. Madeline had been expecting him but not this kind of reaction. "Hello to you to Michael." Michael was now shouting, all remnants of control gone. "How dare you! How could you just let her die! If you had let Nikita have backup waiting instead of having her on her own, Nikita would still be alive!"

Madeline stared at him, not believing what she was hearing, but determined to not let her surprise show. Her face remaining expressionless and calm as always. "You don't know that." Madeline got up from behind her desk and started to walking towards Michael. "Having no back up was not my decision to make, and I sent your team in as quickly as I could have and you know it." She paused, her voice turning to sympathy and concern. "I'll miss Nikita too but you have to let her go." Michael remained silent, his eyes downward, never meeting Madeline's gaze. How could he let her go when she was his whole life? He had nothing left to live for. "Michael, let her go." He then looked at her and she saw in his eyes, deep green with emotion, what he was trying to hide. He wasn't really blaming her for Nikita's death. "Don't blame yourself Michael. We all know it wasn't your fault. And so does Nikita." Madeline then left her office, leaving Michael alone. Her words were painful but true, and they hit close to home. Nikita would never want him to blame himself for her death, but he still piled all the blame onto himself. He closed his eyes, pushing back the tears, only to find that when he did he saw the image of Nikita's beautifully angelic face. And he knew that for however much longer he managed to let himself live, he would never forget her innocent face, deep blue eyes, and the sound of her laugh. He would carry them in his heart and cherish them forever.

"The awareness of dying for something great and noble strips death of its absurd character, not only for those who die, but those who survive." Ignace Lepp, death and its mysteries (1968)

The End

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