Guts Over Fear ◇ NIKITA

Revelation

Alys closed the door with a heavy sigh, after a long day with the Bratva, she needed a drink before she could tackle another fruitless search for the regimen detox program. She had gotten halfway across the kitchen before her path was detoured. "Hey," Owen called, quickly gaining her attention. "We, uh, need to talk and it's best if you're sitting down." He was sitting on the sofa and he couldn't keep his eyes still, Alys half thought he didn't take any regimen today.

"Okay, let me just get a drink first," she nodded, stepping towards the pantry again.

"Just...please, sit down," Owen lightly sighed, his eyes not on Alys as he folded his hands in front of his mouth. With her brow raised in silent question, she did as he asked, sitting across from him with confusion and concern clear in her eyes. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his head before finally meeting her eyes, a rare unsureness to his blue pools. "In Division, I was Percy's favorite Cleaner. He used me for inside jobs; agents, their families, loved ones..."

Alys frowned and rested her elbows on her knees, leaning towards Owen as she tried to understand his directions. "And that's why he made you a Guardian?" He nodded and let his eyes run over her body quickly, seemingly still prepping his own words.

"Sometimes, Percy would order me out of Montreal. There was never any pattern to the trips, other than I had the same destination and goal each time: to keep an eye on you while avoiding any and all cameras." Alys' frown deepened as her shoulders slackened a bit. "A while ago, I saw Nikita leaving your apartment," - she could feel her blood turn to ice as he continued - "reported it to Percy. His orders were not to engage, but to 'tighten your reins on reality.'"

Owen reached out to the small table between them and set something down before retracting his hand, an angry red Zetrov logo glaring at her from a familiar silver band. He didn't say any more, he didn't need to, just sat and watched Alys react to his confession. Hesitantly, as if the ring would cause her harm, she picked it up and turned it between her fingers, her initials glaring up at her.

"You killed Noah?" she asked quietly, an old hollow feeling returning to her chest. For months she had placed trust in Owen, had even an inkling of feelings for him, but this recanted all that she knew about him.

He took a deep breath, releasing it with a remorseful, "Yes." Alys didn't even get the tingling sensation behind her eyes before tears began rolling down her face.

"So when we met at Nikita's, you knew exactly who I was?" she asked, betrayal clear in her voice.

"I didn't know you as a person, I didn't want to. It made the job easier." Slowly, Alys sat up straight again, her muscles tensing on their own. "But Nikita opened up my eyes, when you were at her apartment I got to know you as a person; it changed everything." She couldn't decipher her emotions, mad at the blame all three of them held in Noah's death, but most of it was currently directed at Owen. "It's why I joined Nikita's side. I want to be better."

She turned her head away from him as she clenched the ring in her fist tightly. "I saw you that night. The lights of the squad cars and ambulances only made you look worse."

"Stop talking," Alys whispered, the metal beginning to bite into her skin.

"After all I did to you, you took care of me without even knowing who I was. Twice. You're the reason I'm changing." With trembling fingers, Alys released her fist and let the ring clatter to the floor.

"Stop. Talking," she repeated, an anger behind her words now. But Owen couldn't stop, he needed to get it out and off his chest.

"I couldn't let you keep going down your path without knowing, I couldn't let you hurt yourself like that." He knew what she felt, recognized it before even she had. It had been eating away at him since then, he had waited too long to begin with - he knew that. "The way you'd look at me sometimes, Emily got that same look. Some part of you was hesitant, but the rest didn't know what it was hesitant about."

"I am going to break your jaw if you keep talking!" she threatened, her voice wavering.

"Now you know," he whispered, holding her angry green eyes with his own. "You deserved to know." Alys stood, her fists trembling at her sides as she watched Owen stand. Her breathing was becoming ragged, he noticed this with clear concern. "Alys--" Her fist shot out, colliding hard with his lower jaw, her eyes clear of remorse. He sighed and looked back at her, his lips in a tight line. "I deserve that." She punched him another two times. "And that," he muttered without looking back to her.

"Get out of my flat," she growled. Owen looked back to her with a tight frown.

"I'm sorry, Alys," he assured, meeting her eyes again.

"Out," she reiterated through grit teeth. Her eyes never left him as he made his way to the door, his hands on nothing but the knob as he left. Her strong demeanor fell and her body sagged back to her chair, her fingers still trembling as she reached to pick up her father's ring. She couldn't remember when, but she had realized that though they were the same, the initials were intended for her father. It used to comfort her to wear it, knowing that wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he had worn this once and now she was.

Only this time she didn't find that comfort anymore. Her chest felt like an endless pit, the things she was throwing into it in an attempt to fill it only sinking further away with each second. Alys put the ring on the table and brought her hands to her face, the knuckles of her thumbs pressing into her eyes. Owen had been the weapon used to kill Noah and her baby, Nikita had been that trigger, and Alys had been the one who pulled it. And here in London, she was far from any source of imediate comfort. God, I really need that drink, she released a deep, tense breath, incapable of vocalizing even to herself.