Guts Over Fear ◇ NIKITA

Healing Hands

Alys laid curled up in her bed, cucooned by blankets, and unbothered by the world outside of it. Well, that was until Birkhoff let himself in to her room. "Michael's pissed that you missed training with him last night," he started, cautiously watching the unmoving cucoon. "You haven't gone to medical at all today. What's up with you lately?"

With her lips slowly parting, Alys took a deep breath and forced words to her tongue. "I think I'm sick," she softly answered, her voice wavering ever-so-slightly. The bed dipped beside her as Birkhoff began untangling her blankets.

"What's wrong with you then?" he asked in a light sigh, a sympathetic frown on his lips when he revealed her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, a distant look in them, and she looked miserable.

"I think it's a stomach bug. I don't want to eat, I've got tummy cramps, and I've thrown up once or twice," she slolwly explained. Birkhoff held the back of his hand to her forehead for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, you don't have a fever," he pointed out, a bit skeptically.

"That doesn't mean I feel any better," Alys sighed before shifting her blankets around. "Feel like joining my ditch day?" she softly chuckled despite herself.

"What would that entail?" he asked, a little giddish, eagerness in his voice.

"Coddling me and reminding me why I took your pervy-imp -self in as my best friend," she laughed. Kicking off his shoes, he slid down the bed until he was able to comfortably lay down as Alys held up the blankets and allowed Birkhoff to scoot underneath them, gingerly curling herself into his chest.

Once he had settled with his arms wrapped around her back, he voiced the words everyone - Alys included - had been thinking as of late. "What's up with you? You've been acting all funny since Nikita got ahold of me." With a frown, she rested her hand over his heart and toyed with the fabric of his shirt.

"Niki gets under my skin, I've always acted strangely where she's involved," the blonde dismissed. He gently pulled her back to look at her but stopped when she winced and curled in on herself. "People handle grief in their own ways," she tacked on, the miserable look returning to her eyes. She'd say anything to alleviate the tension from herself. Anything to dismiss the fact that she murdered her baby only hours before.

"You must be greiving pretty hard if you made yourself sick over it," he pointed out with concern. "I'm not gunna catch this...right?" he added when he took in the small space between them. With a small tilt to her lips, Alys shook her head.

"I'm fairly certain its not contagious."

"Can't be too sure," he shrugged. Lightly, Alys hit his arm, causing Birkhoff to laugh as he pulled her back to his chest. "As irratable as I am when I'm sick, I don't think I'd mind if you got me sick." Rolling her eyes, she relaxed as much as she could and ignored the pain in her abdomen.

"Don't ruin the moment, perv," she muttered, amusement clear in her voice since he didn't have a view of her face. For a while she focused on his breathing, seeing the difference in strength in comparison to her own lungs. She had always teased Birkhoff about being stronger than him, but the longer she listened and watched, its was clear that his lung strength was superior to her own.

Lungs were involuntary muscles, working on their own system unless you consciously disrupted it or otherwise. Breathing was as simple as, well...breathing to Birkhoff. Whereas Alys made a conscious effort most of her day to keep a regular pattern to it. It was so easily disrupted, it was partly the reason she was temporarily retired from field work, she was surprised she had lived as long as she had. It was clear that her continued presence in Division was at least partly due to her Tasarov blood. Otherwise she'd be just as expendable as the rest.

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Alys returned to her normal schedule the next day, though she hadn't been feeling much better. She no longer wanted to throw up, but a tiredness had set into her whole body in replacement. She was powering through well so far, she just had to keep it up. She knew she'd have to face Michael one way or another, but she didn't want to think about that for now. Her attention turned to the door when a Recruit, Alex, walked in holding her wrist to her chest. "What happened?" she asked with mild concern.

"I was sparring, another Recruit broke my wrist," the brunette explained as she sat down and hesitantly gave Alys her arm. Gently, Alys felt down her wrist and moved it around, slowing her actions when Alex cried in pain. Turning it over, she examined the top side as well.

"I don't think it's broken, there's a chance that it's just sprained. Some anti-inflammatory cream should help," the blonde notified.

"It hurts like hell, can I get anything for that?" she tried, her pain clear on her face despite her strong demeanor.

"I'll get you some high-strength Ibuprophen then, that'll help with the pain and swelling without the cream," Alys proposed, her words beginning to trail as she examined the cabinet over her patient's shoulder.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with my recovery. Amanda says one taste of Norcos and I'll go overboard." Alys nodded and continued to look as Alex reached out with her uninjured hand and grabbed the blonde's wrist, almost instantly reeling in her focus. "Nikita said you would help," she whispered, a desperate look in her eyes. Alys nodded and shifted her stance, realization setting in. "She was poisoned by Gogol, Kalitrol-226."

With horror also sinking into her mind, Alys nodded again. "Don't worry," she whispered before moving to the cupboard, not knowing if she was speaking to Alex or herself. Her eyes scanned for the label, wondering why they kept this stuff in a basic medbay as she grabbed a bottle of Ibuprofen and the Kalitrol-226 antitoxin, placing a green and blue pill into the other bottle. "Here, hold onto these," she instructed, placing the bottle in Alex's hand before moving to one of the drawers to grab a splint. "And be careful next time."

"Thank you," she muttered when Alys began wrapping her wrist.

"Of course. If you need anything, you know where to find me." Alex met her eye and nodded seriously before clutching her wrist again and walking out. Alys didn't want to think about the toxin running through Nikita, but with Alex gone and her medbay empty, her brain reminded her of what it was capable of; the chain reaction that would cause her stomach to liquify. Nikita was poisoned by her father's organization, no less. If there was one person Alys couldn't bare to lose, it was Nikita. No matter how hard she tried to keep her heart locked up, it was no use, not with Nikita there running through her head and wreaking havoc through her life.