Silence permeated the place called Section One. Such an eerie feeling seeing the deserted site that held such vital importance to the civilized world's survival. Only at times like this did he let the feelings come. His heart had been broken. He tucked his own soul away years ago, it's ugly head only making itself known when he was emotionally exhausted. He cursed himself and his weakness. A weakness that forced his heart and mind to split. In their parting, his soul was shattered.

He wished for the strength of Nikita.

Her inner fortitude was commendable. She bent never broke. Granted how very vocal she could be in the bending, but his protégé was guiding her to her destiny. A few more years in this place, and she would perfect the melding of compassion, caring and steel that would put them all to shame. She was the future, through her Section One's way of life would start anew. He should have been the own to bring that change. Didn't he fight for it himself? Yet long ago he was weak, he didn't have the will to battle the system enough to make such a mark. Now the die had been cast and their courses could not be changed.

Reflections and emotion overcame him. Blank eyes looked around him seeing only visions of the past. His guard was down and the memories came marching forth into his mind's eye.

** Left…**

The perfect love he had lost. She, his glorious beautiful sweet wife, who had died of heartbreak. A broken heart caused by him. She who was compassion personified. She who took his last shred of innocence with her to her grave. She who gave him his only tie to the future. Lost so long ago to him was she.

How things would have been different if he had the strength of Nikita.

**Left…**

A siren with brown eyes came into his view. The one that had made him look to his future. The only future that they could find in this place. Teamed from the beginning they made their mark. She his counterpart. She his strength. She who was his protector. She taught him how to survive within Section. They molded it together with the pain of the lessons the both had learned. She was his Michael. She ruled by his side now, had even molded/manipulated him to be ready for the position, but the memories of their once found joy seeped in at times like this. If only they had molded it with that joy as well. Madeline, in his heart he wished for her to be more then just his right hand. She would finally take her place in his soul. He should have fought for her. He should have fought for them. He should have become her light as Nikita was Michael's. Then all would be different. His dream would be obtainable.

If only he had the strength of Nikita.

**Left, Right…**

A young boy chasing a ball across the yard. Such adoring eyes looking up at him. His pain deepened. Stephen… the son who he lost years ago. The son he had turned his back on. The loss of his son's childhood haunted him in his dreams. He remembered the joy of holding him for the first time. Tears fell onto wet his chubby hands. He knew from that day forward he would protect this tiny being with his own life. But little did he know he would end up protecting him not with loss of life, but loss of heart and soul. Only at times like this would he let his weakness come forth. Tears welled up. At least with his loss, his beloved son had life. He wasn't strong enough when he came back. So close, but just out of reach. All he had to do was lean forward and into his arms his lost child would be. He had relied on Nikita. She had found a way. She let his son live.

If only he had the strength of Nikita.

**Left…**

Green eyes and a defiant gaze first radiated from his young protégé. The operative he pushed the hardest. The operative he punished without mercy. The operative he gave over to Madeline. She saw a kinship within his eyes. The operative he turned his back on a she starting forming him in her own image. Along for the ride he went, drawn to Michael's strength and talent. As he was for his mentor. In his own demented world, he saw him as the son he couldn't have. Love and joy was not showered over him. Pain and lectures only came from his mouth. Such was the life of an operative's rebirth and subsequent childhood in the Section. The strength he did not possess would have found a way to be there. To help, to guide, to teach. The strength would have found a way to be both the stern leader and the understanding mentor to his charge. He could have taken some of the darkness from Michael's soul a long time ago. Alas because of his weakness, Nikita stepped up to the challenge as difficult as it may be.

How things would have been different if he had the strength of Nikita.

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

**Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah..Hurrah…**

Operations was pulled out of his troubled thoughts by the ting of his email notification. Stretching to clear his brain of the memory fog that had enveloped him, he walked slowly to his desk. He silently registered that this was his private account. It must be a contact reporting in he surmised.

Opening the dated correspondence, what was left of Operation's heart so recently resurfaced was destroyed. Tears edged out of the corners of his eyes as he restrained himself. Numbness found the back corners of his soul. Silent he sat as he listened to his inner mind bellow its animalistic wounded cry.

The desk lamp illuminated his office showing the desolation that had seeped onto his face. He sat for hours steeling himself. He willed his mask into place. He tried to withdrawal. His subconscious knew if he separated into his two halves again, he would never return. Such a fight of sanity he had never encountered.

The time slowly ticked by as the endless night continued. A soft throaty melody spilled forth from his speakers. It sang the song of the blues. It sang of his pain. A pain he couldn't speak of. The music was his outlet.

If only he had the strength of Nikita. He would be able to deal with this.

As if summoned, Nikita wandered into Section. She noted the deserted facility, but something wasn't right. When she awoke from a disturbed sleep, she had an unsettling feeling. She needed to come here. Since she normally only experienced this connection with Michael, she headed toward his darkened office. It was empty, confused she looked around. All she saw was a tiny glow from Operation's perch.

Mentally shaking herself, she started to head for her section quarters. She must still be exhausted from yesterday's mission. It had taken an emotional toll.

Walking down the hall, the sultry sound of Billie Holiday resonated softly in the air. Nikita stopped to listen to the unexpected melody. Goosebumps came alive on her flesh. So perfect a tribute to this place - emptiness and the blues.

Following the sounds, Nikita found herself in front of her leader's door. Her breath sucked in as she listened to the lyrics…

**Them that's got shall have
**Them that's not shall loose
**So the bible said and it's still is news

**Mamma may have
**Papa may have
**But god bless the child that's got his own
**That's got his own

**Yes, The strong gets more
**The weak one's fade
**Empty pockets don't
**ever make the grade…

Tears began to fall as she realized the meaning of this. She stole quietly into his office and stopped abruptly at the site that lay before her. Whomever said this man had no soul, hadn't really looked into his eyes. The shattered pieces lay bare for her perusal.

Operations glanced up and saw the sadness in her eyes. He quietly thanked the God he thought abandoned him long ago for he had sent the very person that was needed to save his sanity. Nikita sat down across from him, held her breath and tentatively touched his arm. In his shocked state, he leaned into her touch. Her single touch gave him the comfort he needed in this moment of sorrow.

The music continued as both wept. One for the loss of a son. One for the realization of another's soul and the depth of his pain.

**…Mamma may have
**Papa may have
**But god bless the child that's got his own
**That's got his own

**He just don't worry about nothing
**Cause he got his own
**Yes he's got his own

Dawn came forth and brightened the world, but in reality Operation's was pulled from the darkness by Section's own light. That night they forged a silent bond. Stephen would be remembered…in the heart of his father and the compassion of his troublesome operative. He didn't need Nikita's strength in himself that night. He relied on her and her alone to pull him through.

**Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah..Hurrah…**

The End

Song is "God Bless the Child" by Billie Holiday…

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