| Subject: Into the Valley 1/1 |
Author:
'chelle
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Date Posted: 11:07:30 01/08/02 Tue
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Into the Valley (Sequel to Heat Wave)" on 11:00:25 01/08/02 Tue
Into the Valley
by ‘chelle
Into the valleys.
The shadow of death...Grieves silently…
It's in you and me
Darkness.
The absence of light.
No color.
No sound.
Darkness.
"Where am I?"
Where do you think you are.
"I don't know."
Then you aren't ready to know.
A blinding flash of light
"Where am I?"
Where do you want to be.
"With Nikita."
That is not possible.
"Why."
She isn't dead…you are.
"No. That can’t be."
Where do you think you are?
"I want to see her."
That isn't possible.
"Why not?"
Sound. Deafening sound.
A cataclysm of noise and silence.
A still form, lying on the cold marble floor.
Blood. Everywhere, blood.
And movement, so slow, almost as if it had…stopped.
He walked around his own lifeless body. Staring at it. Studying it.
"Can't she see me?"
No.
"Can I make her see me?"
No.
"What happened."
Don't you remember?
Nikita's laughter, her moans, muffled voices, a shot.
"No. I don't."
Eyes pleading with him. Not to leave.
Alone. Confusion. Anger. Disbelief. Silence.
"Where am I."
Where do you think you are?
"I am at my death."
Yes. Now you can go on.
"Where."
You will know.
A hand touches his shoulder
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Michael? Michael?
"Yes?"
Nikita smiled at him. "Hi… took you long enough, hold this for me please." She plopped a huge basket of fresh cut flowers into his arms and walked away.
Michael looked around, studying his surroundings. It was a small room, filled with antiques, paintings, and flowers. Some things he recognized as his own. Others he instinctively knew as something of Nikita's, but nothing was right. This wasn't his place. It wasn't his time.
"You coming?" Nikita stood outside the door, an expectant look on her face.
Cautiously, Michael stepped forward. Too bright, too brittle, too fake. "Where am I?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene faded immediately from view, and he was thrust back into the comforting light of nothingness.
Where do you think you are?
"Not again."
Yes.
"What is this place?"
This is where you want to be.
"No, this isn't where I belong. That is not my life. That is not my Nikita."
No.
"Then why am I here?"
You wanted to come.
"Take me away from here."
You want to leave.
"Yes"
You want to leave… her.
"I don't belong here."
No.
"I want to go back to my life."
That life is gone.
"Then what's left for me?"
Death.
Sleep, walk, shoot, eat, sleep, kill... it was a never-ending cycle. One she was tired of. One she was ready to break free of. There was no point to it. It was all gray... mundane... empty.
Without Michael.
Funny. That was how she lived her life now. It was how she marked the days. With Michael.
Without Michael.
She heard the comments in the hall. Especially from the new recruits. The older operatives just ignored her, or worse, tried to comfort her.
She hated it. Hated it all. The glances, the meaningless words, the hollow condolences. It was her fault he was dead. She deserved their blame and their disregard, not their kindness.
She walked into her new office and sat behind the desk, sliding her heels off and flipping the switch on her computer screen. Staring ahead, she replaced the images on the screen with the images in her mind. Images of Michael.
Images of his death.
She had no way of knowing how long she sat with her head on Michael's chest, she only knew that she needed to be there. When they finally pulled her still body off of his lifeless one, she had offered no resistance. When they had wiped the drying blood from her skin, she hadn't done anything to prevent them. It was only when they placed a black cloth over Michael's head that she had fought them. Knowing they would send her into darkness because of her violence, she welcomed the needle as it pierced her skin, welcomed the drugs that would haze her mind and deliver her from the image before her. The drug pumping through her veins intensified the sound of the black bag zipping him into his death shroud and she closed her eyes and waited for sweet oblivion.
They told her she had slept for three days. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Even then, she had fought living a life without Michael.
A soft knock at her door pulled her from her memories and back into her gray existence. She shook her head and refocused on her screen. "Enter."
Birkoff walked in the door cautiously, a PDA held tightly in his hand. "Nikita, the final profile for the Cyprus mission is set."
She held her hand out for it silently. "Is that it?" She touched the pad, pulling up the needed information.
He nodded yes and turned to leave.
"Birkoff."
The young computer whiz turned back . "Yes?"
"What is this? The profile called for 7 members on the egress team. I see five names here."
He paused, "The egress team isn't expected to make it out Nikita."
"I'm aware of that. Where are my two other names Birkoff." She kept her voice cold and even.
"I just thought.. "
"You 'thought' what Birkoff. That my bleeding heart would stop me from adding more deaths to my credit? You're wrong. The profile stands as written, pull two more ops from abeyance. Have them meet me in van access in one hour." She went back to clicking buttons on her computer, processing data, calculating risks.
Birkoff waited.
Slowly, Nikita raised her head to gaze at him with the blank stare Birkoff recognized as an eerie imitation of Michael. She arched one eyebrow, as if to ask him why he still stood in her office.
Birkoff opened his mouth, thought better of it, nodded and left.
Nikita watched him go. She knew he didn't understand -- couldn't begin to comprehend the choices she had made after Michael's death.. She didn't owe him any explanations, she didn't owe anyone anything. Except Michael. But Michael was dead. He wasn't ever coming back. Throwing the PDA on the desk she cursed and closed her eyes. "Damn you Michael. Damn you."
"What is she doing."
You can see her. She's living.
"Yes. But it isn't her."
Who is it.
"It's…she's me. What happened?"
Do you want to know.
"Yes. Show me."
It won't be easy for you.
"I need to see."
Yes
A week after Michael's death
Nikita sat crumpled in one corner of the candle lit room, eyes staring blankly out. Silent witness to things and images only she could see.
Music wafted softly through the air.
Sunday is Gloomy,
My hours are slumberless,
Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless
She knew no fear.
Little white flowers will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought of ever returning you
She knew no happiness.
Would they be angry if I thought of joining you
She was alone.
Gloomy Sunday
Her body shivered from the cold of the steel in her hand and her heart. No longer a reason to smile, no longer a reason to live. She ached to join Michael in whatever place he was now. The pain eating at her was too much to bear. She needed it to go away…
Sunday is gloomy with shadows
She pulled the gun up close.
I spend it all My heart and I have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be flowers and prayers that are sad,
Placing it against her bottom lip; she glanced once at the only picture of Michael she had.
I know, let them not weep,
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream,
For in death I'm caressing you
"Michael... " A single tear slipped down her pale cheek.
With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you
"Everything I was… was because of you…"
Gloomy Sunday
"Help me…"
"She needs me." His voice was full of anguish and helplessness.
Yes
"Can I help her?" The outline of what he was now knelt beside her, aching to take her into his arms.
No
The flame from the candle flickered. A breath of a ghostly voice whispered her name.
"Michael?" Nikita put down the gun and moved to her knees.
Dreaming
I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you
Asleep in the deep of my heart
"Are you there? Michael?" Tears now ran unchecked down her face.
There was no response.
There could be no comfort from arms that held no warmth.
Dear Darling
I hope that my dream never haunted you
My heart is telling you
how much I wanted you
"Damn you!!!" She threw the gun across the room collapsing onto the floor in ragged sobs. "Damn you! Leave me alone… leave me alone…"
She felt his presence leave, a sudden coldness enveloped her. The tears streamed down her face as she realized her words had banished him. Sobbing she choked, "…come back"
But he'd gone., she'd sent him away. Again.
Slowly, painfully, the only part left alive…died deep within her.
Gloomy Sunday
"She blames me for dying."
No. She blames herself for living.
"What can I do?"
Nothing.
"I can't accept that."
You must. You can't stay here any longer; this is no longer your world.
"She needs me. I can't leave her."
Her destiny is mapped. You can do nothing to change it.
"Destiny? What do you mean?"
Six months after Michael's death
"Dammit Keelan… get the hell down! Do you WANT them to blow your head off?" Nikita pulled the rookie back. At this rate, he wouldn't last long enough to be sent to abeyance.
She flattened her back against the steel of the building they were hiding behind. Being ambushed on a routine "in and out" wasn't her idea of a fun afternoon. Everything about this mission had gone wrong. The profile had been off from the first and she cursed herself for not seeing it. It was sloppy, unprofessional, and it would end up getting herself and her team killed. She noticed the young man by her side stick his head out from behind the relative safety of the steel and moved to pull him back again.
"I said get Back here!" She leaned forward intent on pulling him back to safety, when a strong feeling came over her.
NIKITA … GET DOWN
Acting without thought; she dropped on top of the young operative, sending them both crashing to the ground. The loud buzzing of bullets passing inches above her head told her how close to death she had just come.
That isn't allowed.
"I will not allow her to die."
It's not up to you to decide. You can't warn her from danger.
"I will not let her die."
It isn't your decision to make any longer.
"Nikita?"
"Yes." She looked up as the Chief Tactician walked into her office.
"I heard the mission went badly today." Madeline walked over to a chair and gracefully lowered herself into it, studying the pale face in front of her.
"Nothing I couldn't handle." She placed a look of serene content on her face. Revealing nothing.
"I noticed you placed Keelan into abeyance, what was your reasoning behind that."
Nikita nodded solemnly. "He placed the team in jeopardy on several occasions. He wasn't paying attention to his actions or his responsibilities. Frankly, he was a liability."
Madeline smiled. "Do you recommend cancellation?"
Nikita glanced over Madeline's shoulder toward the opposing wall. "Yes." She redirected her gaze back to the older woman. "He's had more than enough time to accustom himself to the requirements of a mission. Frankly, I think who ever cleared him on his final test was an imbecile and should be reevaluated himself. If Keelan's two years of training wasn't enough to make him a viable operative, re-training isn't going to change that."
Madeline tilted her head to one side and then nodded. "I quite agree. Very good Nikita."
"Thank you."
The briskness of the exchange worried and surprised Madeline. This wasn't the same woman from six months ago. Michael's death had changed her. Madeline's heart clenched, it had changed them all. The light that had forced itself into the cold heart of their world had been extinguished, along with the life of an elite operative. Both had been indispensable, but it hadn't been clear until they had both been taken away.
"Six months?"
Yes.
"Time is so different then?"
Time is different. Your time here is ending.
"What do you mean."
This isn't your place.
"She needs me. I need to say…"
What.
"…good bye."
It isn't possible. Except…
"What. Whatever it is, I agree. I will speak to her."
It won't be easy. For you or for her.
"Anything. I agree."
All Hallows Eve.
He found himself in her sparse apartment. Gone were the little touches that had made it Nikita. It was stark and barren, without the light that came from her. He glanced around the candle lit room searching for her.
She stood flipping through her CD collection, looking for the perfect selection. Dressed entirely in black, she stood, slim and strong. She momentarily paused in her actions. A fine shiver rippling her skin.
Moving to stand close to her, he moved his hands slowly across her back. Silently telling her all the things he never could in life.
"I know you're there. I can feel you."
She knelt and placed a CD into the machine, wondering briefly why she was holding her breath for his reply.
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top
The snow is softly fallin'
The air is still within the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly callin'
"It is you, isn't it Michael. Somehow, it's you." She stayed where she was, bent low, arms hugging her legs to her upper body.
"Why have you come? Maybe to warn me…. to tell me to mend my ways…"
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you
She pulled her feet up under her, settling against the soft leather of the couch behind her.. "I've gone on Michael… why can't you." She lied, wondering briefly if he would be able to hear the sound of her heart breaking with each word.
The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon the page
The words of love you sent me
Michael moved nearer to her, he reached out a hand and laid it over hers.
Her swift intake of breath was the only sign he had that she felt the connection.
She blinked furiously, "Sad….so sad… is that you? Is that how you feel? Oh Michael. I can feel it. I can feel… you."
If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
"I'll join you soon enough my love." Tears she had been unable to let fall, traversed her pain-ravaged face. "Soon." A promise made, she lowered her head into her hands, weeping.
The fire is dying now,
my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are liftin'
He concentrated. This was too important to fail. He had come too far.
It had to be now.
The mornin' light
steals across my windowpane
Where webs of snow are driftin'
With a groan of frustration he uttered his plea. "Please…help me… I have to reach her…"
Nikita raised her head slowly scanning the room, finally coming to rest on a shadowed form in front of her.. Her breath caught in her throat. "Mi..chael?"
He moved his head toward her. His green eyes glowing hot out of his shadowy form.
"You see me? You hear me?"
Eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief. "...yes...how…"
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
He moved closer, feeling pain at every movement. It was the weight of the world, crushing down on him. He had been warned it would be hard, painful. "Nikita.."
"I.. don't .. understand.. I ..I… don't.. "
"Please Nikita, I don't have much time."
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
And to be once again with you
She moved, bending over him. "How Michael… how is this possible?"
"Listen to me…" His body arched from the pain. Nikita cried out, moving her hands desperately over his familiar form. Trying to find the pain and make it go away. He was cold. So very cold.
"You're in pain. Please Michael... tell me where.. tell me how to help you."
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
"Listen to… me " His beloved face in agony. She moved close to him.
"Live"
Confused she looked into the mist green depths, "I am…"
"This isn't you." his body wracked with another round of torturous pain as the weight of all his transgressions heaped onto his shoulders. Desperation colored his words, "Be who you were meant to be. Live again. Love again...."
His time was close, his figure fading back into shadows. As she reached for him, her hand grasped at what was no longer there.
"…no… oh god no.. please no.. Michael… please… " The pain of her cry tore at her throat.
His husky voice fading...."never... forsake... love"
Shattered by his declaration ...Nikita's breath stopped. Her heart so recently found, cracked wide. The reality of who she had become weighed heavy on her. "no.. no… no… don't leave me.. please... don't leave me… please…it's cold and it's so lonely Michael… oh god.. so lonely. "
”…live"
Beside her trembling body, a candle flickered and died.
And to be once again with you
To be once again with you
It's time.
"No."
It's time.
"I need to see her one last time."
Darkness.
The absence of light.
No color.
No sound.
Darkness.
"Nikita?"
She opened her eyes and turned in her chair. "Yes?" She said with a soft smile.
Birkoff answered it with a smile of his own. A tentative friendship forming once again. "Operations would like to see you. Oh, and your new material was just brought in. He's in room D316."
"Thank you. Birkoff." She stood and pulled her coat off the back of her chair. "Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?"
He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, Walter said we'd meet you at 7 for drinks first. Is that all right?"
"Fine. I'm looking forward to it." She walked with him out the office and down the hallway.
The door to the room squeaked open and Nikita walked in. She stood, regarding the broad shoulders and strong stance of the black-haired man standing before her.
"Good morning."
He turned around and gazed at her through solemn eyes the color of the stormy seas. "Where am I?"
She smiled, "This is where you will train…"
In a place far away, yet very near, he smiled.
Full circle.
~end~
Music:
Gloomy Sunday ~ Sarah McLachlan Song
For A Winter's Day ~ Sarah McLachlan
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