~~~
Nikita dreamed.
A car. Ferrari. Red. Red, color of life, color of blood. So red... everything.
(I... I bought it for - for you... I... hope - Do you, do you like it?)
(Oh my God, I'm - Thank you!) ((smile))
Thank you
Thank
Thank
Thank you?
Happiness
Cool. Water. Deep, electric blue. Blue, the color of skies, the color of her eyes. Blue depths. Could drown in them. Fish... dolphins?
(That is so totally cool, Mom!)
Cool? Coldness. I'm cold. I can't breathe...
(I'm happy you like it, darling!)
Endearment. So sincere, sounded so nice. So happy.
Happiness
Don't wanna be happy
Not happy
Not ever
Ever
happy
The black room again. Yellow eyes, like stars in the darkness. Evil, little stars.
Monsters.
(Mommy? Can you hear me?)
Mommy never comes. Never helps. Forgot you.
(Mommy? Mom! Help... help me... please.)
My mom never came. Left alone, all alone in the darkness, all alone in the world. Had to fight my monsters alone.
(I'm here.)
No! No, you...
(Mommy's here now.)
Happiness
Everybody's happy. I'm not... everybody. I'm alone. Where's my mom?
Cry to me.
~~~
"Mom?"
Nikita was disoriented. Where was she? Not in the old, dirty apartment she'd spent some of her childhood in, but…
Her bed.
She'd woken in her apartment, from other people's dreams. She'd woken with tears in her eyes.
She'd woken alone.
***
Chapter 09 - Another Flavor
"You look like hell, sugar."
"Thanks for the compliment," Nikita said dryly as she sat on the park bench where her friend had waited for her. She hadn't slept again, not after the dreams, or rather nightmares. Instead, she'd spent hours on her balcony, watching the sunrise and the awakening city.
It all had looked so peaceful.
Walter sighed and she decided to ask.
"Have you... have you found anything?"
He didn't answer immediately, but looked at her, almost frightened at what her reaction would be.
"I'm... no. I couldn't detect anything abnormal in your blood. You seem to be fine. I asked - bribed - Birkoff to get me your medical file and perhaps I'll find something there. I'm sorry, Nikita."
No. That couldn't be. They had injected her with something, hadn't they? There had to be a trace in her blood, anything...
Nikita swallowed and stared at her pants. Old jeans, worn, blueish. The fabric seemed to blur more and more until it was water, blue, electric water, like the ocean... the ocean she'd seen recently, the ocean in which you could drown in. Drown, drown, drown, sink until you're gone, nobody hears your screams, sees your struggle... She realized that she was crying.
"And there's no… other possibility? I mean, there has to be something... I can't do this much longer, I'm - I'm too weak."
There. She'd said it. Weak.
Weak.
A simple, four letter word. Weak. Nothing special about it; but Nikita hated it with a fiery passion.
Weak.
That meant being beaten by her mother's boyfriends... that meant begging on the streets, asking the people with a pitiful gaze if they had some money. Weak. It meant iron bars and a white room. It meant a cage full of rats and green eyes that spoke of kindness. It meant a boat, and a meeting, it meant being manipulated. It meant being used...
Weak. And she'd never wanted to be weak.
"Actually..." Walter hesitated. It was almost impossible, but it was a possibility. "If I had an example of the serum they used on you I could develop an antidote. But they destroyed the base where you were held, so most probably the information, too. And..."
"Yeah?" Nikita was tired. The nightmares had worn her out; and although she didn't want to see them again, she just wanted to curl up and close her eyes.
"You aren't weak. Never, ever believe that. I know very few people who deal with everything that's thrown at them as well as you do. Believe me."
~~~
Crashing... falling falling falling down
down
down
down
Fear Panic
Nothing
Nikita came awake with a strangled gasp and grabbed blindly for the pills lying on the table. She swallowed two of them dry and got slowly up. The whisper of the headache was gone again; but she was so dizzy she had to lean against the doorframe to steady herself. Soon the nausea would set in and she'd throw up what little her stomach could hold these days. She'd feel tired and unfocused, but it was worth it, considering the headaches she got if she didn't take enough pills.
Anger
He couldn't... an empty fridge, God he's so lazy, I... brown eyes, black hair, love, contentedness, warm, I told him!
The thoughts had started a week ago; little voices in her head, mixed and unclear, weak at first. Nikita could never control it; sometimes she just felt emotions, or thoughts, or both of them. She hadn't left the apartment for two days, afraid of this huge mass of confusion. Everybody seemed to talk to her at once, and although she didn't feel pain, it drained every bit of her strength no to scream. That, combined with the side effect of Walter's painkillers... she slept. A lot.
~~~
Nervousness
How can I do that? It's so... difficult, complicated, fear, fail... death...? Just a joke, c'mon, I'll show you... Catherine, you are, house, woods, green, so green green, peaceful, miss that.
Boredom
Geez... wonder what... Mom? Friendly, blue eyes with grey, gotta figure that out, now, but I'm finished... when's this stupid shift over anyway? You've always been special - shoulda installed some games
Nikita bit her lip and kept her eyes to the ground. Perhaps it was just imagination, but she didn't hear as many thoughts when she ignored the people around her and didn't look at them. The floor was dark, just like the glasses on her nose. The light was too bright for her eyes. They always hurt and were swollen.
She tapped Birkoff on the shoulder with a gloved hand and he looked up. "Hey, Nikita."
"Anything up right now?"
Avoiding eye contact, Nikita prayed that he'd be busy and wouldn't have time to chat. Invading her friend's privacy... She'd tried to avoid Michael, Walter and him. Hearing, or feeling their thoughts was wrong. It was as if she was reading their diaries.
"Nah. There's a briefing in three hours, but you aren't scheduled for it."
"Why not?"
"Ask Michael," Birkoff shrugged and then smiled. "Hi, did you get the discs?"
Cute, kinda reminds me off... Alex, blond, small, nice, disappointment... DON'T GO THERE... matter? Doesn't know, silvery, shiny just like - Birkoff, funny name, wonder where, nervousness, SPEAK GIRL!
Nikita turned around and the regarded the petite girl woman - who stood behind her with a stack of discs in her hand.
"Oh... yes... here."
"Bye, Birkoff." Nikita used the opportunity to take off. Perhaps she could go home again and sleep for another few hours. Or days. If she wasn't on the team, then she had nothing to do anyway.
"Wait! I forgot to tell you, Madeline wants to see you asap."
Hearing Birkoff's announcement, she groaned. Just what she needed right now.
***
Chapter 10 - A Certain Someone
She stopped in front of the gray metal door and searched in her bag until her fingers touched something hard. Taking it out, Nikita looked at the small, brown glass bottle that contained the key to her sanity. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the white, seemingly harmless pills.
Swallowing a pill and taking off her glasses, Nikita just hoped that she didn't look as dead as she felt. The door opened and she entered Madeline's office.
The older woman was standing in front of her bonsai trees, sometimes cutting a leaf here and there. She didn't turn around, not even as Nikita asked, "You wanted to see me?"
Coldness
The familiar, ice cold fingers touched Nikita's back, sending a shiver down her spine and leaving her breathless.
Trees, pretty easy, little so little... light and tall, no doubts, have to go through with it, unusual behavior... statics it's so bad ((did it work)) can she feel
"Your success rate has dropped significantly since your capture by Red Cell. Do you have unresolved issues with that? Do you feel any negative after effects?"
Read her, not successful ((did it work)) work, important mission not sorry ((never, ever sorry for your actions)) her voice is like my mom's
((Action?))
She's gone tell me did it work((focus))
She had a hard time concentrating on Madeline's words. There were so many thoughts, so many pictures flashing before her eyes... Nikita took a deep breath and smoothed her black skirt. It was new, the material still crisp, yet another unfamiliar feeling.
"No. Why didn't you tell me before?"
Of course she hadn't been fully focused on her job lately, how could she? But everything had gone relatively well after the Mayamo mission, and Nikita had hoped, despite better knowledge, that they'd forgotten, or never even noticed her slips. No such luck.
Let nobody see your true self, it's too bright in there and I think....- did she miss her mommy... had to be done, white hair like snow, eyes like a storm- ((Dr Ryan))... last phase of
"We didn't think it would be neccessary."
"And now you do?"
White room, Birkoff's gone ((all teams abort the mission, I repeat)) ((Greg, turn off the com unit))
"We didn't give you downtime and perhaps that was a mistake…
I never make mistakes anymore...((is that really neccessary)), a male voice, acceptable((risk)), was it
…but you'll have a free week after this mission. You have a briefing in three hours."
Change of plans, curiosity ((wanna know what))... she'll never - work - ((he has to be alive))... important, do I know him- ((Good morning, Dr Ryan))
"Okay."
Nikita all but fled from the room, just wanting to get away from the cold strangeness. She'd gained a quick peek inside Madeline's head - it wasn't pretty. And she had a suspicion - one she hoped desperately would be proven wrong.
~~~
Systems was luckily empty and Nikita slid relieved on the chair. A noisy operative was the last thing she needed right now. She closed her eyes. Thoughts were fuzzy at best, and moving too fast to really grasp them. But she'd seen two things: her capture had been no accident, and something was off with the target of her next mission.
Madeline knew him. Personally. And why was she scheduled for it at all when Birkoff had told her otherwise? Nikita started to search for Dr. Ryan.
Dr. Nicolas Ryan, specialist in psychology and biochemistry, with a bunch of degrees in other subjects as well, forty years old, widowed. Had been kidnapped by Red Cell the month before and Section had gotten the task of retrieving him before he might be forced to develop some new weapon.
So far, so good.
Everything had gone smoothly on that particurlar mission until Nikita's com unit had failed and, cut off from her team, she'd been captured. And there was no indication in the profile that Ryan had had earlier contact with Section One. Or Madeline.
Good morning, Dr. Ryan.
It sounded familiar. Like she'd heard it before, a long time ago, pushed aside but never quite completely forgotten...
Good morning, Dr. Ryan.
((I'm not going-))
"Nikita?"
She jumped and turned around hastily. Michael. Just Michael. Right.
"Yeah?"
Did her voice sound too squeaky, too unsure? What did he want from her? Nikita regarded him, his usual black suit, his brown hair, his eyes that always seemed to penetrate her soul and dig up her darkest secrets. But his own soul was quiet, and in a way she was grateful for that. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to know Michael's secrets anyway.
"What are you doing here?"
His gaze settled on the screen behind her, on Ryan's handsome face that was, despite his age, framed by snow white hair. White, like freshly fallen, untouched snow. Nikita felt her face grow hot.
"I'm - I'm scheduled for a briefing in two hours. Thought I would look a bit at the intel."
That didn't explain why she was looking at an old file of an unfinished mission, but at the moment she paid more attention to the growing ache in her stomach. Bile rose in her throat and she could already taste the sting of vomit on her tongue.
"I didn't know you were on the team."
She had to get out of here. Fast.
"Madeline just told me."
Now.
"Excuse me."
Not caring about Michael's questions that would certainly come later, nor about his eyes that scanned her face with hidden concern, Nikita breezed past him and ran for the next toilet.
~~~
Her stomach didn't have much to give, yet Nikita continued to throw up until her body shook with dry coughs, until her belly clenched and her throat was raw. She leaned against the sterile white walls of the toilet, sinking to the floor and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She tasted bittersweet vomit between her lips and her teeth hurt.
It was too much.
The ongoing flow of emotions, the stress of the last weeks and Madeline's subtle threats... Nikita understood the warning perfectly: perform as expected or else. She was hovering on a fine line between life and abeyance and if she screwed up again, not even Michael or Walter would be able to help her.
~~~
The briefing had already begun and Operations glared at her as Nikita quietly took her place between Michael and Birkoff.
"Glad you decided to join us."
"I'm sorry."
He ignored her excuse and continued his speech.
"He's being held in a factory in Sydney, Australia. Mr Birkoff."
The screen showed the blueprint of a large building and Birkoff began to explain. "We lost his trace in Spain until I located him in Australia. This building was also used as a chemistry lab. He's probably being held in the basement. Your com units won't work down there, so if you go down you'll be cut off from communication."
"Any questions?"
What the hell is going on here?, Nikita wanted to shout. After the meeting with Madeline her "sixth sense" hadn't occured, and although she was glad not to hear the voices again, they would have helped her now. She shot Walter a pleading look and he nodded.
"Further information is on your PDAs. You'll leave in one hour."
***
Chapter 11 - When I'm Thinking About You
As Nikita went to Walter to get her PDA and weapons, he drew her aside. "Do you know it?"
She stared at his excited face, confused. His blue eyes got brighter and brighter, they shone and seemed to disappear in a white mist, more and more, until...
gotta help her, she's ((we tried to get him a month ago)) snow white, it's cold outside, green, a ((we don't know their plans)) we never do
Excitement Concern
is it a - Mistrust, been here too long- grey like
"The mission to get Ryan?" she asked quickly, before the images lost their sharpness and became nothing more than a faint memory, an odd dream with a bitter aftertaste. Now it was Walter's turn to look confused.
"Damn, sugar, how do you... oh. You - you read it? I mean, in my head?"
Nikita hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. It felt wrong, to read his thoughts, to see pictures only he could see, to feel his emotions; and although she couldn't control it, it did nothing to ease the guilt.
"I'm sorry. I - I don't do it deliberately, I swear."
Walter's eyes seemed to smile at her, and, just for a moment Nikita wanted to hug him. He truly was a friend.
"No problem. But what I wanted to talk about isn't about controlling your... abilites, rather, it's about getting rid of them."
At first she didn't even register what he'd said. Another whisper approached, a familiar presence, sometimes a friend, too. But then his words sunk in. "Oh." Nikita swallowed.
"I mean - wow. Is that possible? I thought it wasn't."
"Never said that. Just said it would be almost impossible to get that damned serum they used on you. But now you're chasing after Ryan again and he probably developed more of this stuff. So watch out, and bring me a souvenir, okay? Wouldn't want you shuffling through my dirty thoughts any longer than absolutely necessary."
Nikita almost cried. To get rid of this 'ability', not so much a gift but a curse... she'd given up hope. She'd given up hope in the long nights in her apartment, where she was lonely and yet never alone, on the missions where she screamed silently along with the victims, in Madeline's office where she'd read thoughts but got no emotions. She wanted to dream her own dreams again. Just this one mission... but…
"There's something I need to tell you. It's important," she told Walter quietly. If her last capture had been intended, what would happen now? Was this mission just a coincidence, or a carefully laid out trap?
"We have to go."
The Presence had arrived. Michael's voice interrupted them, and as Nikita pocketed her PDA, she feared that the latter one was the case.
~~~
Nikita dreamed.
But this time... it was different. Details?
A long, dark corridor, as black as the night. (Do I really need to go there, mommy?)
Fear
(All teams, hold positions.) wanna get out of here
I'm afraid of the dark
the monsters
bambamBAM
(-so loud)
(I'm sor-) statics
I'm alone - Encore un jour se leve
((Hello? Maman? Please...))
((Please help me)) I can't. I never -
(Madeline?)
Confusion
((Nooooooooooooooooo-
((You're the only one of us who still has a-))
sur la plan-
What's that? Mustn't think of that now. Deeply buried, long forgotten never
remembered and it's so dark... I
hurt
(Greg?)
Leg hurts. The monsters are always there-
((I'm not)) will it be dark when I die? ((Row 8, plot 30))
No. It'll be white.
Can't hear, can't see, can't smell, can't feel, can't fell, and this is hell but I always knew that
Panic
I'd die alone and I miss
I always do and the throbbing gets louder I can hear your
heartbeatheartbeatheartbeat
Pain
((hurt you))
On the plane, a still sleeping Nikita moved in her seat and brushed against Michael's leg, ever so slightly. He looked at her still features and smiled.
The dream changed again.
((I don't know you at all.))
((Excellent))
Pain Confusion Anger Love Tenderness Hurt
I wanna get out-
hurt never do
Red. Rich crimson red, so beautiful, beautiful like blood and copper, I can smell-
-Nausea-
((I thought I'd lost you.))
Pain Pain
PainpainpainandIwantyoubackeverydaydoyouknowIdreamofyounoofcoursenot-
It was all so loud. Noises, screams, my God the screams-dark eyes and I could drown in them ((Simone)) But-
You have to. We have to-)) ((Do you want to marry me?))
Hypocrite and I hurt you but you mustn't die - never, I Elena and I lo- ((I do.))
Red. It's so loud and so silent and the world is red(Help me!)
- like the blood I can never wash off and it'll always be there but her eyes are so blue but
Fear Concern Love
Love
love you and the pain's always there and never goes away - blood - can you love me?
~~~
Nikita awoke suddenly from dreams filled with blood red images and losses she'd never experienced. Michael's losses. She moaned softly, a moan of agony, sprung up from the plane seat and to the bathroom.
She'd seen everything so clearly - Simone, the petite woman who'd died to get revenge; she'd seen her, young and beautiful, and she'd seen her bloody body ripped apart by the force of the explosion. She'd seen Elena, her eyes glassy and dead, shot by him, Michael, following Section's orders. And finally herself, Nikita. In a dark room, caged like a wild panther, unable to fight, unable to defend herself against the monsters.
She'd seen so much blood.
So much red.
The tears came naturally, hot tears that stung inside her closed eyes and burned on her cheeks. Nikita heard ragged, desperate sobs but didn't recognize them as her own. Kneeling on the floor, she buried her face in her hands and cried. God she cried. Never had a dream been this vivid. Yes, she'd felt emotions, she'd seen pictures that touched her and she'd been in pain over them, but never anything like this. She'd never smelt the blood and she'd never felt the dead flesh of a loved person beneath her fingers. So many emotions at once... Michael's emotions. He felt so much, so deeply... Nikita cried even harder as the world outside ceased to exist.
Later, much later (or had it been only minutes?), cool fingers touched her hair and gentle hands drew her close to a warm body. Not knowing whether this was a dream or not, nor caring if it wasn't, Nikita just listened to the soothing, soft words that made no sense, until she really fell asleep.
She didn't dream this time.
~~~
It was warm. The first thing Nikita noticed when she awoke was the warmth that seemed to envelop her like a blanket. Something... no, somebody was stroking her head gently in a slow rhythm that stopped when she stirred. She looked up and blinked. Michael's eyes were watching her carefully and now she became aware that she'd fallen asleep on his lap. Nikita was sure she was blushing and sat up hastily, breaking the contact between them. The room suddenly seemed colder.
"Hey."
"Hey," he said back softly, as if not daring to disturb the silence in the tiny cabin. The constant hum of the plane's engines had faded away and there was an awkward pause.
Nikita cleared her throat. "I'm... why did you...?"
"You didn't come back. I searched for you."
Yeah, as if she could run away from here.
She got up and caught a fleeting look of herself in the mirror. A pale face, tangled hair and huge, puffy eyes that hurt from dried tears. What must he think of her, finding her crying in an airplane toilet? Her attempt at a smile failed miserably.
"Listen, I just... had a bad dream and - it'll be okay, it's not going to influence the mission or anything..."
Michael still stared at her, as she remained sitting on the floor, and the picture was so riduculous that Nikita would have laughed if she'd had the energy.
"What is it, Nikita?"
"What? Oh, the dream, that was nothing interesting, really, just your usual nightmare…"
"No," he interrupted her, "No. What is bothering you? You aren't yourself anymore. You're unfocused. And you cry a lot. What is it?"
Suddenly the picture wasn't ridiculous at all. "I'm... I'm - it's all so - I can't. I can't tell you. Please, I can't tell you."
The intercom saved her. "Estimated landing in fifteen minutes. Prepare for landing."
As she left the bathroom, she whispered a quiet "Thank you."
And, but perhaps it was just her imagination, she coud hear a whisper, just as soft.
"You're welcome."
***
Chapter 12 - Medicine
"Team One, proceed."
Nikita cast a quick glance over her shoulder to Eve, the operative she was paired up with, and winced inwardly. Eve was new, and she was scared. Her panic was almost tangible. Nikita could see the drops of sweat on her forehead and the fear in the younger girl's eyes.
Looking around the corner and seeing nobody, Nikita nodded and started to run. Eve followed her and they reached the secured area without problems. Finally she found a door that could only be opened by a retina scan.
"Ok Birkoff, we're there."
Nikita took out the lens and inserted it carefully into her right eye. As she looked into the scanner she silently prayed for the door to open. Five… four... three... two… the door clicked.
"We're in."
"Be careful. I don't have you on the screen anymore, and your com unit won't work when you're too far down. Get Ryan. He should be unguarded."
After the door came a long, dark staircase, then another door which was unlocked. Nikita kicked it open and raised her gun. She could hear Eve's uneven breathing behind her.
The laboratory was empty.
It was a relatively big room with enough space for some desks, computers, and a bed.
One laptop was…
Fear Confusion
God how did I get here and where's- I didn't deserve it don't matter it's- where is he?... Apprehension, check the room, helphelp((Help!)), somebody
Panic-
And silence.
Nikita heard the shot before it was fired, but it was too late to warn Eve. Acting purely on instinct, she ducked and rolled behind the next desk, making herself as small as possible. She slowly looked around the corner. Eve was lying on the floor, dead, and above her stood a man with snow white hair and a gun in his hand.
"Dr. Ryan?" she asked tentatively, distrusting.
His head snapped up and he backed off from the body, raising the gun again. The whispers, cut off after Eve's death, advanced again and created a new kaleidoscope of a personality for Nikita.
Coldness Anger Mistrust
Is she the one, blue as the ocean ((did it work)) I miss Myriam sometimes but they, she ((Yes, I'm)) saved her- killedkilledkilledblackand light. It's bright and I can't see her face
"Yes? I - I mean, that's - that's me, I'm Dr. Ryan. And please don't hurt me… it - it was a mistake, a terrible mistake… you're f-from Section One, aren't you?" He sounded genuinely disconcerted, slightly panicked. "I swear, I didn't want to k-kill her, I just waited for a chance to escape and I ... I..." he trailed off, at a loss for words. The weapon fell to the ground with a metallic, cold clatter. "I didn't want to kill her."
Excitement
did I con((You killed a man!)) she was pretty.. Regret, can never again((I don't care!))... Madeline- frightened, I never-vince her... tense and it's over there- deep blue like the ocean ((Aim... and fire))
like her eyes
Nikita frowned. This was indeed Nicolas Ryan, the man she was supposed to get out of this complex alive at any cost. So far everything fit: his looks, the defiance, the voice - he sounded shocked. Yet his thoughts... his thoughts spoke another language. Didn't they? Aim... and fire. How did he know Madeline?
Standing up slowly and aiming her gun directly at his heart - there was something she should know. She stepped closer. "Why do you think I'm from Section One?"
does she believe me, hope so, next step and another (she was pretty, my wife, wasn't she- I'm doing this for her)... Section One and their methods- play! Act! Breathinbreathoutonetwoone
The scientist spread out his hands, apparently afraid of the gun. "I - I had some contact with them over the last few years. Sometimes I work f-for them, inventing things. They, they promised to keep me safe."
She nodded. That sounded plausible, except that something was wrong, something she should know. "We've got very little time to get out of here. Destroy everything that's important. Hurry."
Relief
I knew it- she does and she's the one((I do))((Dad, could you look at this?)) Destroy everything.... yes yes I want to - slowly, got to take it with me over there((I'm afraid I've got bad news for you.)) C'mon, move!
He almost jumped and rushed to the laptop. He explained hastily, as if speaking to himself, "I didn't save much. Most of it is in my head so they don't have anything in case I.... in case I die."
Die... such a painful word((FLASH)) she didn't get old, did she, they taught me well - concentrate, just concentrate destroy destroy - what was her name? Black hair - oh how I miss her -
Nikita couldn't keep her eyes off Eve's body... blood began to pool around her, soaking her hair and cheek. Nikita felt nauseous. She mustn't think of that now. Aim... and fire.
Her head snapped up. She could almost hear Walter, teaching her how to hold a gun, how to use it. She gingerly stepped closer to the body and kneeled down. The girl had died immediately... because she'd been shot directly in the heart. A perfect aim. Had Ryan had perfect training, like her? Or was he simply a gun freak? Improbable.
Swallowing, Nikita stood up and turned around. She noticed some syringes lying on a table. They were filled with a deep, purely blue liquid, just like her eyes. She stepped closer.
"What's that?"
Ryan looked up.
Did she...? No, no, impossible((Curiosity killed the cat)) Truth or lie? Do you know it, little girl? ((Nic!!)) Stick to the plan((I told you!)) Stop it-
"That? Those are the t-temporary results. It's... they forced me to develop something that would allow them to... you could say it's something to read thoughts."
Read thoughts
Read thoughts
Read-
-Feel them?
Nikta managed to keep calm, her voice slightly disinterested.
"Really. And it works?"
It better does but you should know!
She looked into his open, friendly eyes.
"Not yet. They... they tested it. On real people. It was... I'll feel forever guilty for that. It was terrible."
"What happened?"
"They all went insane."
At first she didn't even understand what that meant. But then..."Oh." She watched him while he was busy elsewhere. She ever so slowly took one of the syringes and pocketed it.
"Yeah. Oh."
She could hear his steps. "I'm finished. Please, let's go."
Flashes, fast as lightning, too bright, too loud.
I'm not- secondary mission profile?((Confirmed)) ((Myriam? Myriam!))
Freefreefree... relief, finally.... she looked so beautiful... little and water - like drowning. I don't wanna be forced... light tall blue eyes what a pity - they all went insane... white, have to prepare for next step((did it)) hurry, he'll come, white((Good morning, Dr. Ryan))
Nikita blinked.
Good morning, Dr. Ryan.
Good morning.
Good morning. I'm not going to hurt you.
She whirled around, gun again trained on him.
He shrank back and gasped. "What - what are you doing? I'm, I'm not…"
"You work for Section One."
A statement, not a question. Ryan looked at her with a sudden calmness that astounded her. "Yes." His voice sounded different, professional, detached. Like an operative would sound. "You work... for Section?"
Nikita couldn't belive it. It didn't make sense. If Ryan was a Section operative, why weren't they told? Why weren't they briefed about the project?
Fear
Do I have a choice((You don't have one.)) ((Is that a threat?)) and I miss her every single day - but concentrate on your work - you'll see her again ((Won't you?))
A mix of nausea and headache flooded her system and her vision blurred momentarily. "They use... your wife... so you work for us, right?"
His eyes seemed to pierce her through. "So it worked after all. I guess you can read my thoughts - but you feel the side effects, too. If I'd known that, all this wouldn't have been necessary."
Triumph Excitement Stress
necessary... drown in the coldness and swallow me up... twenty nineteen eighteen - no time left, secondary mission, took one?((George mustn't know. This is highly classified)) hurry... a sky so wide and open - her face.... Can you hear me, little girl?
"Necessary… what?"
He smirked at her. "Your second 'capture', of course. I'll have to give you another dose of the serum... but now we really have to go."
Two, one, now!
Faster than Nikita would have anticipated, he lunged at her. She barely blocked his first move. He tried to punch her in the stomach but she grabbed his hand and twisted. Her vision blurred again as he struggled to get free, but she used his momentum to turn him around so that his back faced her. Her arm went around his neck and cut off his air supply. She pressed the muzzle of her gun against his temple. He stilled.
She panted, and with each breath the pain seemed to double. Before her eyes she could see her purse with an empty, brown glass bottle in it. She'd used up all of the pills.
"Why did they do this?"
Ryan stayed mute. Nikita's finger on the trigger began to tremble and she almost screamed: "Why did they do this to me?"
No answer. Her finger flexed slowly, until -
"Nikita, let him go."
Michael. She glanced over her shoulder but didn't release her grip. "But…"
"Let him go. We've been detected."
She wanted to say something, anything to defend herself, but he'd already turned around and run up the stairs. She gave Ryan a hard push and snorted. "Let's go." On her way out, Nikita touched the syringe in her pocket. The headache was almost gone now.
***
Chapter 13 - Here's Where The Story Ends
"So there, all done now, sugar."
Nikita smiled sleepily at Walter who was sitting next to her on the bed. "Thank you."
Somehow, it sounded trivial: thank you. He'd developed the antidote for her in less than forty-eight hours. 'Thank you' simply couldn't express the gratitude she felt.
"When will it take effect? I mean, it's not like, poof and everything's gone, right?"
"I'm afraid not, but I can't tell for sure. I've added a sedative. When you wake up, the worst should be over."
He got up, but Nikita called him back. "Walter? What happens to Ryan?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. From what you've told me, that he's an operative on a mission not condoned by Oversight... Operations will have no choice but to let him go. Good night, sugar."
~~~
Nikita dreamed.
A pleasant dream, full of light and warmth. A quiet dream, peaceful. A beautiful dream.
A soft hand caressing her forehead, a gentle hand, loving.
She woke up smiling.
~~~
And looked directly into Michael's face. He didn't change his expression, nor did he stop touching her face. But as he saw her brilliant eyes gazing up at him, his lips curved, just a little.
"Hi. What... what are you doing here?"
"I don't know."
His honesty surprised Nikita. She'd expected some sort of excuse... but she liked this better.
Michael continued. "I was... concerned for you. Walter told me everything. And I thought you'd be interested to hear that Nicolas Ryan is dead. Heart attack."
The tone of Michael's voice left little doubt as to how he'd really died. But this time she almost pitied him. Ryan had followed his orders... he'd done it for his wife, and was cancelled in the process. It was just another day...
Michael rose and Nikita yawned. "That's all?"
"That's all," he confirmed.
He was leaving the room when she stopped him.
"Michael? Could you stay with me, please? Just 'til... 'til I fall asleep again?"
***
Fin
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