Guts Over Fear ◇ NIKITA

Friendship, Remember That?

Alys didn't recognize her surroundings until she stepped through the front door; the nearly empty, open interior with several cluttered spaces belonged to none other than Shadow Walker. So, he has a beach house and a cabin in the woods? There was an instant smile to her lips when Birkhoff entered her vision, walking forward and allowing Owen the space to carry the unconcious woman through the house.

She barely saw Nikita follow him before she was wrapped in a tight hug, taking a deep breath as she eased into it. "Hi, Nerd," Alys sighed, holding just as securely as he was.

"You have a phone and a computer for a reason, use them," he grumbled, flicking her as he pulled away. "Percy's the blacksheep of Division, we can use the Eye--" Alys put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head, wordlessly moving to find a place to sit. It seems Alys' failure on communication wasn't the only thing getting his panties in a bunch. "Everyone in the Tri-state Area with a badge and a gun is looking for this girl," he pointed out, turning off the news as he turned towards Michael. "They track her back here and I'm toast."

"We are the only ones who know she's innocent, we have to help her," Michael reasoned. Alys smiled a bit as she watched them bicker, it felt like old times, only now they were all free - more or less.

"There is no we, okay? There is me and there is you. Now, get rid of her, or you and your super-friends crew gots to go." Alys slowly lost her smile, watching how tense the conversation had made Birkhoff. They'd worn him down and he was just about sick of them, she could see it; from the corner of her eye she could see Owen enter the room, silent on his feet as ever. "Don't give me the goatee of intimidation, okay? I know you won't hurt me."

"No, but I might," he intercepted. As much as she hated it, she couldn't help but grin when Birkhoff turned with mild fear masked by major annoyance as Owen ate his potato chips.

"Those are mine, man," he sighed, caught between two males, a match for neither.

"You're kind of small," Owen pointed out as he stepped forward. "You'd disolve quick."

"Down, boys," Alys chuckled, watching Birkhoff huff.

"Whatever. Just remember, you're on your own with this one."

"Okay," Michael agreed with a poorly retrained smirk. After Birkhoff left the room, Alys stood and shook her head at the other two.

"I'll talk to him, in the meantime, no disolvong people." She could feel eyes on her as she followed Birkhoff, but she couldn't tell if the eyes belonged to Michael or Owen. She found him pacing in his room, nibbling on his fingernails, if he did see her he didn't acknoledge so. "I must've missed the super-friends crew meeting where you signed off."

"When did you sign on? Last I knew, you were hermiting it up in London," he retorted.

"I told Owen I'd help him off the regimen." Despite all her ambiguous feelings towards the man, she intended to keep her word. "I didn't come here about the P9 stuff, I could really care less about the girl."

"What about these past three months, the damn radio silence? I've been trying to get ahold of you about the Eye for so long I was about--"

"Seymour," Alys sighed, gaining his attention. "Owen killed Noah, don't worry about that anymore, please. You're worried about enough."

"Woah, woah, wait - you're telling me you're helping the man that killed your boyfriend, knowing full well what he did?" he asked incredilously. It was fair, the last time they'd spoken on this subject it ended with her breaking down in the middle of his floor. But a lot had changed since then, and she'd drunk a lot of booze. Boozy thinking usually led to tear-filled revelations that struck her like a rock when it came to recalling previous events. A lot of those pretained to the Noah/Owen situation.

It took a long moment, but eventually, Alys managed to say, "I've come to terms with what Owen did." Birkhoff was silent as he studied her, bewilderment clear. "As a doctor, my first priority is to help people. You know about the regimen withdrawls with the Cleaners. I saw it first hand, I'm more than capable of getting him off the regimen system." Birkhoff just scoffed and waved his hand, sitting on his bed with his back to Alys.

"Your room's a door down the hall, to the right." With a deep breath, Alys accepted her dismissal. He'd been so relieved to see her, she thought he'd want to spend more time with her.

◇

The room was tense after Nikita's delivery of news, that Mars was working at the Vory Clinic and altering people's brain waves. "We've gotta raid the clinic and grab him," Owen insisted.

"There are rehab patients in there, we need to find out how many and what kind of security Mars is using," Michael thought out loud, Head of Logistics kicking into gear. "Mars would recognize Owen, he wouldn't recognize me."

"Michael, my love," Nikita sighed, grabbing his hand and holding it between them. "Jag officer, yes" -- she kissed his hand in praise, holding his eye -- "junkie, no." Despite the hurt their closeness caused, Alys had a hard time denying Nikita's statement; Michael couldn't pass for a junkie to a blind man.

"Hey, I've passed as worse," he defended softly, still holding her hand despite her walking away. "Infiltration is our best chance at getting recon."

"She knows," Alys breathed, giving Michael the same pointed look Nikita had been. Now turning to Nikita she offered, "I'll help you get ready." She mostly offered because she knew what Nikita looked like when she was using, had enough artistic skills to recreate that look with makeup. Nikita used to love coming to Alys for primping up.

The blonde followed her to a bedroom, watching the mirror as Nikita sat at a vanity. Nikita was watching the mirror as well, focused on Alys'reflection. "He told you, didn't he?" she softly asked. So she knew about the domino effect of events leading to Noah's death.

"Yes. After I nursed him back to sanity, that is," Alys admitted with a heavy breath, feeling her charm bracelet dangle around her wrist. It didn't offer her comfort anymore, either.

"I'm sorry," Nikita sighed, a frown gently tugging on her lips.

"What's done is done. All we can do is move forward." She hated the words as they left her mouth, feeling hypocritisiscm pull on them. All she'd been doing for the last three months was procrastinate moving on by any means possible. Though, with the shove Owen had given her into reality the other day, she'd been managing that task pretty well. Picking up the small cases of makeup and opening them, Alys looked to Nikita's face as well, trying to decide if she wanted a clean slate or if she could build up from what Nikita was already wearing.

"Do you forgive Owen?" she asked softly. Alys expected the words to cause her at least a little faulter, but she just picked up a brush and a palette, turning to Nikita with a neutral expression.

"Have you forgiven him for Daniel?" Alys easily countered, still unaware of the answer to Nikita's question herself. She was still willing to help him, if that meant anything.

"Yes," Nikita just as easily replied, quicker on the return than the blonde had been. So she left it at that, taking work to transform Nikita into the lowest state of her life.