written by Tammy
Chapter 7
Raymond rolled over, pulling the covers up further, a smile across his face. The sounds of something crashing into the valley threw him from his dream of being at his grandmother's home. He could hear the whine of a car horn that abruptly stopped. Silence returned to the valley but sleep was not as kind to Raymond. Images from his dream of several nights ago flickered in minute detail in front of his eyes as he stared into the velvety darkness. The tiny creatures of the night began their chanting again. They too were satisfied that the thing that had made such a terrible noise was gone.
Shaking not from fear exactly but the adrenaline that started racing through his body, he rose rapidly from the warm covers. With an ease that only came from knowing precisely how his home was set up, he lit a gas lantern. It gave the small room a warm glow but it did nothing to warm Raymond's spirit where a thick layer of frost was forming.
He went into the larger part of the cottage. Once there, he turned on another gas lantern and stirred the embers in the stove to get it going again. He grabbed a blanket from the couch and his leather barn jacket from the peg by the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Raymond knew exactly what had made that noise that had torn him from his dream... the white wolf and her mate.
The sounds of the crash told him that it would not be far. He was right. It was only about 3/4s of a mile from his bungalow. Playing his flashlight around the car, he could see it was a dark green and brand new. The bottom of the chassis was almost silver it was so clean. That except for the streak of soot that ran from front to back. The fire had been no worse than that but it marred the intricate braiding of metal.
Moving the flashlight around, he found the figure in the tall weeds. Raymond knelt down and with practiced hands felt for a pulse and broken bones. Satisfied that there was nothing broken, he slowly turned her over. He was amazed to find his hands now starting to shake. The hair was the same as in his dream which flashed in front of his eyes. He was half expecting her to change to a wolf as she had then too. The feeling was so intense he shined the flashlight into the surrounding trees.
No black wolf stared back at him or rose from behind a bush snarling. A small sound drew his attention back to the woman on the ground by him. Her eyes were open but they looked without seeing. And yes they were the same blue as the ones he has seen. It struck him that she needed more help than immediate medical attention. There was something in her eyes and a feeling that reached into him.
Her eyes closed again and Raymond chided himself. There was no way so see any kind of feeling in the eyes of an nearly unconscious person except pain. But he could not dismiss the feeling. It was curling around his insides and reaching beyond. At that moment, he knew someone would come for her. And that someone was in need of help just as she was.
He arranged the blanket over her and then carefully lifted her from the ground. The knees protested as he brought himself upright. When he was younger that would not have happened. But Raymond was no longer a young man. Perhaps now it would be an advantage. Cradling the woman like a small child, he turned and melted into the darkness of the trees.
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Michael woke with a start, Elouette still echoing in his ears and L' Araigne hanging before his eyes. They were making him choose. His family from the past or the one he was trying to piece together in the present. Elouette telling him he wasn't good enough for either. Philippe leering from behind him, telling him to use the gun and make it all go away. Then demanding him to show how he was not a coward, that he was a man finally and could make a decision. He turned to look at his parents and Simone holding Merle. All their faces were blank. He screamed and it had been that which woke him.
Feeling how dry his mouth was and how stiff he was from the now almost frosty air, he got up from the chair and walked back into the cabin. The C/D still played on the stereo but it seemed to be still on the same one he had put in a little while ago. Frowning he pressed stop and started for the eject button, when he noticed his watch. He had been asleep on the deck for 4 hours. Worry rose up, as he turned and hurried up the stairs, hoping to see her asleep in the bed.
The empty room loudly greeted him. In his head he calculated the time it would have taken her to get back. It was still 1 « hours too long. It was now going for 3am and she was still not home. Going down the back stairs, he grabbed the cell phone from its holder on the counter and hit a few numbers.
"Yes?" Caroline's voice sound bright and awake.
"Has Nikita dropped off the car yet?" He kept his voice neutral but the hand that moved back and forth on the butcher block countertop said otherwise.
"No, Michael. Birkoff has her marked as off Section. Was she suppose to? What one did she have anyway?"
"The new Ferrari we got for Caracas." He began to pace now, a hand going up and down the outside of his thigh. The agitation was becoming easier to see.
"Still out. Are you sure she was suppose to come back?"
"Maybe I was mistaken. She may have had other plans. I just wanted to check on the car.... Operations was anxious earlier about the Caracas mission. Thank you, Caroline."
She still sounded cheerful. It clashed with the mood Michael was developing. "Sure no problem. Enjoy the downtime!"
"I will." He hung up the phone and placed it on the sink. He looked towards the open patio door. The crickets were barely audible but he could hear clearly a bullfrog that had to be the size of a tractor trailer by the sound of him. The rest was just deep silent darkness. Slowly he walked over to the door and slid it shut. Do I go looking for you or wait? Did you mean meet me here or at your apartment? I need to know.
Grabbing the phone from the sink, he strode out of the kitchen and out to the French doors that lead to the deck. He listened to her cell phone ring several times as he locked them up. As it picked up, before she could even say anything, he spoke. "Josephine?" Then he realized that it was an recording saying his call could not be completed as dialed.
He walked back past the computer and snatched the keys off of it. The phone at her apartment rung in his ear and then it picked up.
"Please leave a message at the beep," came her simple straightforward request. He waited till it played through.
"Nikita, it's Michael? Just wondering if you were home." He waited until it beeped in his ear again. With precise movements, he hung up the phone and shrugged on his coat. There was no hurry in his motions but they were sharp, abrupt and wasted little energy. The door closed softly behind him as the alarum system clicked on.
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Raymond inspected the cut on the side of the woman's head. It wasn't too deep but it was jagged. He had no idea what she had cut it on. She had opened her eyes several times but not for very long. He knew that he had to keep her here though. That would be the only way the man represented by the black wolf in his dream could appear. He was the one Raymond needed to see. Only through him could he help the woman.
Standing, he went over to the sink and dumped the small bowl of water he had used to clean her head. He watched the water swirl down the drain and frowned at it. "Raymond, you are letting this get beyond believable at this point. You are starting to sound like your grandfather. You always thought he was off his rocker. Does this mean that you finally are too?"
He turned and folded his arms across his chest as he contemplated the woman on the couch. The resemblance to the one in his dream was unnerving. Raymond knew his great-grandmother would say that he had been visited by spirits in his dreams and now the spirits had brought the dream made real to him. It was the proper thing for a wiseman to experience. A true and strong reminder of his power and destiny.
Suddenly Raymond let out a laugh. He had been spending too much time thinking. This was all making sense just in a bizarre way. He was still dreaming. That was the answer. If he just went back into his bedroom and laid down on the bed, he would awake once the sun started streaming in the window that faced east. Then everything would be normal, just as it was when he went to sleep. With a stretch and a yawn, he flipped out the light and went back to the bedroom. Confident that the couch would be empty when he awoke.
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Consciousness came back with a tremendous stab of agony in her head. But there was somebody near her and she had to see who it was. Nikita tried to move her arm and then her leg. Nothing worked. Fear of more head pain made her not even attempt her head. With shear force of will, she brought her eyelids up.
There was almost no light in the room but she could tell it was small and minimally furnished. The window next to what she was laying on was open and she could see, no, hear the crickets outside. Trying to absorb her surroundings, Nikita became aware she really didn't feel anything but her head and that was quite enough. She tried to groan but that didn't happened either.
Still sensing the presence, she looked around by only moving her eyes. Things that she could make out had distinctively blurry edges, like a camera on soft focus. A replay of the accident flashed in and out of her head. Brakes...somebody fooled with the brakes....tried to kill me...
A noise by her feet drew her attention there. As she saw what caused the noise, if she could have screamed she would have done it. Taylor stood there with a large smile on his face. And the look in his eyes he always use to have whenever he looked at her.
"Hi Nik. I've missed you. Remember how I used to tell you how we'd always wind up together. That someday Litta would leave and it would just be us. Guess what Golden Girl. I did it. I figured out how to do it." He walked forward, a hand sliding up her leg. Nikita could feel that as well as the terror and bile that rose up in her throat.
Squeezing her eyes tightly, she decided that if he only had a body without a brain, he'd soon kill her. That way it would finally end. Opening her eyes, she could feel tears leak out as his hand brushed her face. Michael... take care of them. Please love them and yourself enough for me too. I'm not going to be here to do it. Forcing herself to be calm, she envision a light switch. In her mind's eye, she reached up and switched it off. Then all feeling and pain stopped and there was nothing.
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Birkoff shook off the hand that clamped down on his shoulder and was trying to wake him. He pulled the covers up over his head and snuggled deeper into the warm blankets. The blast of cold air that assaulted his body got him wide awake and mad. He flipped around and slapped at the offending hand. "Lay off man!"
However the hand that gripped was not easily fended off. It was strong and held on. The voice immediately told him who it was. "Just get up. I need your help and your access codes." Michael stepped back as Birkoff swung his legs out of bed. He fumbled on the bedside stand for a moment. Obviously searching for the pair of glasses Michael held out to him. "Here, Birkoff."
Finding the missing item in Michael's outstretched hand, he put them on and blinked at him in the dim light of his quarters. "God Michael, it's....4:15 in the morning....uffffffggghhhoovvv...what do you want?" his words interrupted by a yawn
"I need the locator frequency on the Ferrari Nikita was driving."
Even though the voice he heard was calm and flat, Birkoff felt the urgent vibes coming off of Michael. "She's not back yet?"
"No." Michael had to confess to being amazed at the speed at which Birkoff moved. He was at his computer and tapping away .
"J34W....last location is only about an hour from the club...I can put you within 25 feet of the car...what do you want to do?" He stopped with his fingers posed above the keyboard. Michael leaned over his shoulder.
"Give me the spot. Then keep us marked out. Get a stolen car report in the system. Use Madsen, its one of the names that's listed on the club ownership. It's a dummy corp....they can't prove his existence without a lot of time consuming legwork. Show me as contact that will give me free rein to clean it up."
"What do you think is going on?" He looked across his shoulder to the eyes that reflected the images of the computer screen.
"I don't know."
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The morning sun hit his eyelids sooner than he had hoped. Raymond snapped open his eyes to stare at the bright sun shining in through the glass and the open blinds. For some reason, he had a feeling of terror sitting foremost in this thoughts. It was a strange feeling to greet the rising sun with. Feeling threatened not only physically but emotionally, he tried to remember his dreams from the night before. There was only the one about that accident again but this time it had been different. The details had changed. He stretched and coughed, then threw back the covers. With the dream from the night still well etched in his head he slowly padded towards the kitchen to start a strong pot of coffee.
The figure prone on the couch almost knocked him to the floor. She still lay in the just about the same position he had placed her in last night. But that had been in his dream, it hadn't been real, had it? He snorted in disgust at himself. So much for the brave and intelligent self conversation last night about the reality of dreams. His dream from last night still laid on the sofa in the living room.
Hesitantly he went over and touched the blonde hair. She didn't stir. Raymond got down on his knees and felt her pulse. It was strong. Her eyes were open but unseeing, like they had been for several moments at the car. He placed his hand over them for a moment and then removed it. The pupils contracted when the light hit them. "That's a good sign." He felt the side of her face. The skin was warm and soft. Her breathing was strong too and there was no resistance to moving her arm. Stone-faced he rose and threw the blanket back on her. Then he had another thought.
He sat on the coffee table. Solemnly he picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "You are real but I need to know what to look for. I need to know who will come for you and what his name is. I need to know yours as well. How can I make him believe that I tell the truth?" He chewed on the inner part of his lower lip. He had never tried this before with a person who was unconscious. He had no idea whether on not it would work. He had always used hypnosis as the lead in before. Raymond knew he would be limited. Perhaps he would only be able to view some of what she was seeing, hopefully it would be enough.
Raymond closed his eyes and sat still. He gradually slowed his breathing so that it matched hers. Having just risen from sleep, it was easier to relax himself and let his mind drift. He felt the normal heaviness fall over him and then the sense of being detached. Gradually his chin sunk to his chest and he began to sound like he was snoring. But his body remained upright.
At first Nikita didn't know where she was. As if afraid to look she opened her eyes and saw only white. With a groan, she covered them and drew her knees up under her chin.
"No! I didn't get to say good-bye!" The tears rose without effort. Driving the car the way she had been had turned into a really stupid mistake.
Raymond was amazed at how white everything appeared. Even she was dressed in a white tank top and white loose fitting pants. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail but her face was down on her knees. Somehow he had found out her name. "Nikita" he whispered. There was no response from her, just as he had thought. He could watch but not interact.
A door opened and Raymond realized that they were actually in a room. Nikita's head snapped up to look at the person. He was medium height and trim with hair that was brown with red highlights. He moved into the room and Raymond was struck by the graceful restrained power of the man. Walking forward, Raymond came in front of him to see his face.
The eyes were the first thing to strike him. They were the same color as the ones the black wolf had in his dream. The same intensity that the wolf had wasn't there though. He could sense the intensity in the body but the face and the eyes were blank. It had been a long time since Raymond had seen such self control, especially in one as young as he knew this one to be. The experiences to create that need in a person were incredible. What was he going to encounter when he meet this man in the real world? The rest of the face was angular but the lack of life bothered Raymond.
Raymond turned as he heard the movement behind him. Nikita was on her feet and staring at the man who had just come in. She tried to smile but couldn't, tears beginning to roll down her face again. She came forward, arms out. "Michael...." She tried to wrap him in a hug but her arms slide through him. Raymond watched as she stepped back, her body suddenly shaking violently. Her scream almost deafened him. "NO!!!! NO!!!! YOU'RE NOT DOING THIS TO ME!!!!"
She threw herself at the door, pulling at the smooth surface, scratching at it. With a howl of rage, she spun into the center of the room. Raymond noticed that the man had disappeared while he was watching her. Nikita looked to the ceiling, her face contorted in rage and hands clenched at her sides. "MADELINE, OPERATIONS.....THIS ISN'T RIGHT!!!! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!! I WANT MICHAEL , KATIE AND REESE BACK!!!! DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE THEM!!!!"
The silence hung in the room as she started to turn in a circle, looking at the ceiling. Her voice lowered till it was almost a growl. "This is what you did to break him, Madeline? Is this how you turned him from L' Araigne's puppet into yours?" There was silence then she yelled at the top of her lungs. "DAMN IT!!!! ANSWER ME!!!!" Her scream echoed again as she fell to her knees, eyes clenched shut as well as her fists. Images started flooding Raymond's head. Explosions, guns, fighting, bloodied bodies and the desperate feeling that it was never going to end. "I want our freedom...you can't take 'someday'. It's not yours to take!" she snarled. He stepped back, almost overcome with the ferocity of her rage and depth of grief....
To find himself standing by the couch now instead of sitting on the coffee table. He stared down at the face of the woman he believed to be named Nikita. A bruise was starting to form around the cut and across her forehead. There were other contusions and cuts that were now showing. He frowned, worry etching lines into the lines he already had. "I don't even begin to understand the world from which you have come. It's not one I've ever experienced before. I will help you as I can. I don't know how much of one I will be. I can only imagine when he will come for you. We'll wait. Not for long though....no longer than tomorrow noon....you may be beyond even the best help at this point anyway. First thing may be to make sure we are not disturbed by Sheriff Norton."
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"You didn't hear anything but the crash?"
"Sheriff Norton, I honestly thought it was a dream. I woke from hearing the sound of a car crashing down from the pass but the crickets and things were already chipping. Once I got my bearings then I decided I had really just had a dream. I went back to sleep. This morning it still bugged me. It was just too real of a sound. So I went out for a walk as soon as the sun came up. Took me about 2 hours to find it. I called you as soon as I got back to the cottage."
The tall robust man pushed his hat back on his head, as he looked at the wreck slowly coming up over the side of the road. "And there wasn't anybody laying around?"
"I looked but I didn't see anyone. Just that moose. Could this have been kids? Went for a joyride...hit the animal and decided the best thing was to hide the evidence by sending it over the edge?" Raymond kept his fingers crossed. Hopefully Norton wouldn't ask to come to the cabin.
Norton shrugged. "It's possible. Hell, anything is possible today. Damn kids have no idea at all how to behave. Or how to treat anything with respect. Raymond, thanks for calling me."
"Thought it was the right thing to do." Norton nodded at him and went over to his deputy who was standing next to the wreck that now rested upright on the road. The deputy was pointing to a streak that ran along the top of the car. Obviously the car had hit the large male moose and it has sailed across the top of the car. Raymond could only imagine what must have gone through the girl's head during the accident.
He had to wonder if the reason she wound up going over the edge instead of crashing into some trees was that she had been speeding. From the sounds of the conversation he could hear between Norton and the deputy, accidents here were not uncommon. Not unheard of either was someone hitting a moose around this time of year. It was their mating season and most of the males were either aggressive or stupid enough to be a danger. Raymond heard the sound of an approaching car. He looked over the other side of the road.
The gray Lexus stopped behind the deputy's car and a man got out. He was dressed in black t-shirt and slim black pants. In addition he wore a long black coat. Raymond watched as he closed the door of the car and pulled off the mirror sunglasses. The man studied the wreck in a neutral, dispassionate manner. At first he seemed hesitant but then the walk changed as if he was controlling his reaction to seeing the car. As he got to the flatbed truck, he ran a hand along the bumper that hung down. His jaw tightening and the stiffness in the body, reactions to his emotions were getting more apparent as his hand moved along the metal. A casual observer would not have noticed the changes but the subtle clues spoke loudly to Raymond. He was too accustomed to looking for them.
There was no mistaking the man. He looked exactly as he had in Nikita's 'dream'. This was Michael. The hand slowly closed over a protruding part of the truck and he seemed about ready to leap up onto the flatbed. Sheriff Norton saw him and called out. "Hey there! Don't think about it!" The hand didn't move but tightened. Norton was on him quickly. "This your car?"
"No." came the short answer. Raymond tuned into the accent. He was a fluent speaker of both French and English, probably since birth, of that he was sure. He recognized the sound of it. That meant perhaps he was a local. "It belongs to a client of mine. It disappeared from a club he has, last night. He believes that some teenagers hanging outside took it."
Michael could feel the eyes of the other man standing to the side. Trying to figure out why I'm here...is this something you did? What happened here?* He watched as the officer pushed his hat back on his head *Kita where are you?
"And why should I believe that Mr..."
Raymond watched as the man in black produced a business card. "Mr. Louis. I work for Kurt Madsen. If you pull up the plates on this car you will find them registered to him. The VIN if you need it is 1G303707TS5478. He's only recently purchased the car. He didn't have many personal things in it. There might possibly also be a black cowboy hat inside. There is some sentimental value attached to it. May I look to see if it is there? It might make the blow of losing the car a little easier."
Norton looked over at the deputy. "Vince?"
The deputy shrugged at him. "It matches. We got a report that one of the bar owners got his car taken last night. Madsen's the name as owner. Numbers match and it's a new registration. And Louis is the contact name."
"You got ID?"
Michael pulled out a laminated card and handed it to the sheriff. "Is that sufficient?"
"You from around here? You sound like you're from further up."
A brief smile crossed Michael's lips. Visited as a child. I have lived 'further up' as you term it for a number of years. My license shows where. Do you need my home phone number? It's on my card."
"Thanks. Go ahead and look." Norton nodded his head at the car and Michael sprang up on the flatbed. All three watched as he tried the door. It didn't open. He leaned back and slammed his booted foot into it with such force the whole car rattled. Norton raised an eyebrow and looked over at Raymond. He returned the gesture. With a hard yank that pulled the coat tight around his arm and the shirt tight across his chest, the door opened. The restrained power Raymond sensed was no illusion. It was evident in the way the clothes had outlined the body as he pulled at the door. Leaning in, he rummaged around and came back upright with a black cowboy hat in his hand. With a surprising gentle hand, he brushed some glass fragments off of it. The hand reached up and pushed a piece of hair back behind an ear.
Need to control....pushing the hair behind the ear....he makes that gesture a lot....he is containing himself so much it is actually starting to cause him pain. There is a strong bond between the two of them....very strong. He desperately needs to know where she is. Raymond was sure that the man wanted nothing more than to hide from their eyes for a while and grieve. With ease Michael jumped down to the ground and stood even with Sheriff Norton again.
"Will there be a charge for the recovery and tow?" Michael's head was screaming from a dozen different thoughts, none good. The strongest one being about Jon Jae's warning left in the form of the bracelet. He was so tense at the moment that it actually hurt to hold himself upright. He wanted to just go back to the car and curl up in a ball. The feelings of dread and fear inside were tearing him to shreds. Self control was close to disintegrating.
"No, just come to my office and we'll finish a few things up. You can follow my car."
"Thank you." came the soft reply. Norton said a few last minute things to Vince and proceeded to his car. The truck pulled out directly behind him. After they moved down the road , Michael turned and went to the side of the road and looked down. He felt no threat from the man still there. Only thing he felt was the emptiness and loneliness inside himself. It had been the car, he had almost been able to smell her as he opened the door.
The hand holding the hat started to tremble slightly as it formed a tightly clenched fist that crumbled the brim. He brought it up to his nose and mouth, eyes still fixed on the rock and now crushed and splintered slope that peered up at him. Mon coeur..... This couldn't be happening. Not after everything else that had gone on. This would be too cruel.
Quietly, Raymond walked over to the man who stared intently down the slope. "Michael?" The head snapped in his direction in a violent movement. There was a streak of agonizing pain that flicked out of the silverish tinted green eyes as they focused on him. His perception of their color as grass with dew in the morning sun was apt. He could think of no other way to describe them. The way they went blank so fast amazed and worried him at the same time. He has a tremendous need to control and hide himself. What has happened to you to make you this way? Perhaps you never found a way to heal after being wounded by life....?
"Excuse me?" His voice was low and hoarse, the accent thickened.
"Michael, I know where Nikita is."
"Pardon me, I need to see about the car." He turned , the gait stiff and angry. But he wasn't able hide the subtle tremor that passed through him as he heard the name. Ruefully Raymond congratulated himself on perceiving her name right.
"Nikita is safe Michael. Hurt but alive." There was no response and he was just about ready to cross the road. He took a stab in the dark. Nikita had screamed two other names as intensely as she had Michael's. Raymond had a strong feeling they were their children. "Don't you think you owe it to Katie and Reese to tell them their mother is alive?"
Michael stopped in mid-stride. How the hell.... He shifted around to look at the man. "Who are you?"
Another truth revealed but he had to wonder if it was just the saying of the names that stopped him or the naming of her as the mother. "Raymond Whitespriten.. I found her last night. She is at my home. As I said hurt but alive."
"Take me to her."
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Simon frowned as he contemplated the question Christine had just flung at him. Did he care? He didn't know. He knew he was pushing things with her faster than she wanted. Faster than she thought was safe for both of them. But he couldn't help himself. It had been five years of almost not feeling. Of being guilty every time, he thought about the past and especially in the past few months as he had sensed his attraction growing stronger for her and repressing it. And to be in life the way they were....
He wasn't the type to sudden change directions like the wind anymore. He took time to gage things and figure them out...except this. He knew that this was what he wanted. Simon wasn't about to decide why. It was just better to accept it and go on. Besides, hadn't she made her feelings clear? Whispering them several hours ago as they laid tangled in the blankets at her apartment. Out here in the late morning sunshine, it wasn't true? He wasn't going to accept that.
"I want an answer!" Christine was getting more and more angry. It was as if he was ignoring her. Did he realize it was dangerous the way he had been acting? Especially coming to see her in Doyle's room. The excuse of being worried about her leaked. If he was worried, he would have stayed away.
He turned to look at her. "I love you."
Christine raked a hand through her hair and turned away from him. With a small screech, she stomped a foot and pointed a shaky finger at him. "Don't say that!" No you didn't just say that Simon. I don't want to say it back. I can think it but I won't say it. It gets too real and too scary after I say it back to you!!! You didn't hear me say it back there. You were asleep. I know you were!!!!
"Why? There is nothing wrong with how I feel!"
"There is when it can get us cancelled. I can't say what I don't feel."
"Liar!!" He looked shocked when she said it. Even though he had thought she would try and deny herself any chance of enjoying what was developing. How long had Michael denied himself the same chance with Nikita. Too long, almost to the point of losing her and everything else in his life.
"Don't you dare call me that!"
"Why not?" he shot back. "You're denying yourself Chrissy!! Not only of what you're really feeling but of who you really are!!"
The enraged woman who faced him now caused him to step back a bit. She reminded him very much of Michael in that moment. "You....are....never...to...mention....that....again!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
It suddenly hit him that she meant what her real identity was. His hands came up in a defensive gesture. "Whoa, hold on.....that wasn't what I meant. Not your past....who you are inside. A flesh and blood woman who had the courage to admit to what she feels in here." He thumbed his chest. "Get over the fear Chrissy. Get over the anger! Take here and now because that's all we got. I'm willing to take what we can get right now. To enjoy and appreciate what I'm feeling. I want you to do that too. Give it a chance. Give us a chance. I might get called out tomorrow and not make it back. That will leave you wondering for the rest of your life what you could have had."
Christine stood like a statue looking at him. Wanting to hug him and slap him at the same time. She wanted to pull away as he pulled her close. Then she remembered what Nikita had gone through when they thought Michael was dead. The raw emotions had bothered her because they were the ones she refused to allow herself to admit to when she had heard the news. She couldn't begin to imagine what they would be like if that happened to Simon. A whimper escaped her as she gave in. "Alright....you win." She felt his arms tighten around her and the tension leave his body as well as her own. "I love you too." Some of the weight she felt on her shoulders all the time was gone. Slowly she began to smile. It felt good.
Then there a car alarum start to go off. Christine turned to see where it could possibly be coming from here in the park and saw she was in her bedroom at her own apartment. She was standing by her dresser and the alarum clock was ringing. Looking around the room, she felt bewildered and disoriented. Simon had been here just a moment ago and they had been in the park having another turn at the debate that always seemed there in front of them. The clock wasn't giving up. Going over to the nightstand she slammed her hand down on it.
Slowly she walked down the hallway to the kitchen. The window over the small table in the corner showed the graduated horizon of sunset colors. She grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator and took a long swallow, her eyes still glued to the sunset. "I'm scared," she said to the darkening sky. Abruptly she threw the bottle into the metal sink. The glass thunked loudly against the side and it bounced out. Liquid spewed out along the front of the cabinet as it fell down towards the tiles floor. Christine watched it, unconcerned that the glass bottle was going to hit the tiles. It crashed to the floor; shattering into pieces. Anger exploded as the glass scattered across the floor. "Damn it Christine, Paige....WHOEVER the hell you are, get over the fear! Learn to deal with it!!! Otherwise you ain't nothing!"
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Chapter 8
The directions Raymond had given him were easy to follow. As he got out of the car, he could see the curtain in the front window fall back into place. Michael cursed himself for coming here without a thought or a plan if this was a trap. It smelled and he was trying to ignore the warning claxons in his head. This could be Jon Jae's doing. Underhanded and vicious, just his style; always had been and always would be.
But his concern for Nikita clouded his judgement. The man's mention of Reese, Katie and their relationship to Nikita had made the decision for him immediately even though his first reaction had been to fight it. He continued to look around, making notes in the event he would need them. He reached into his coat, making sure his gun was there.
Raymond watched Michael as he got out of the car and surveyed the area around the cabin. The blank look still fixed on his face and in his eyes. But there was a wariness in the body. He reminded Raymond of a snake coiled and ready to defend himself. His attention shifted back up to the eyes that made notes of everything they seemed to look at.
Michael you have the eyes of a person who has made himself a prisoner. Intentionally blank and void of all emotion but the wealth beyond that is staggering, isn't it? Your life has not been ideal or even remotely easy. It has beat you for a long time but you fought it. I think though you gave in at one time and now have decided to fight it again. Why? Because like any prisoner does you crave freedom? And what or who do you allow to hold you prisoner? Is it the same that holds the woman here... I get the feeling that you are own worse enemy . You hold a key that might let you out into the exercise yard. Or even to complete freedom. Either way you are a classic case.
He looked quickly over at Nikita. He had to wonder if she had the same look. As Raymond had contemplated the images he witnessed from her, the comprehension of the hopeless she felt had become clear. That and an almost suffocating sense of loss. Something she cherished was being kept from her. She was desperate to have it back and it was eating at her relentlessly. But there was a tremendous fear that was separate from the desperation. It had been strong enough to pull away from the real world.
She had tried to retreat from something that had truly scared her to a place where she felt safe. A place where she had always wanted to be .... a world that was the way she desired it to be. Getting her to surface could prove to be a daunting if not impossible task. Much depended on the connection these two had. Somehow Michael was safety and security for her in a world that was from what he had seen wildly out of synch with the real world. It had almost resembled a war zone. Was she a victim of the same prison as the man about to knock on the door?
Carefully Michael approached the door. He raised a hand to knock but Raymond already had the door opening. He stepped aside and Michael stepped into the room. He was to the couch in an instant and on his knees. As Raymond watched, he glided the knuckles of one hand down her cheek. The fingers of the other hand laced into Nikita's lax ones and pulled it to his chest. He watched as Michael's eyes closed. Whether it was a silent prayer of thanks or being unable to look at her as she was, there was no way to be sure. The tenderness once again surprised Raymond. He was beginning to believe that this Michael was full of contradictions.
"How long has she been like this?" There was just a slight hint of fear in the voice. But one could also hear a thickness that was the result of held in check emotions. Her eyes scared him. Open but staring, only he didn't see the usual gleam or emotions. There was no reaction to his presence or the world around her.
Her cheek had felt warm to his touch. Actually almost hot, the area around the jagged gash on the side of her head especially. A slight discoloring started at the midpoint of the wound and darkened as it got closer to her temple. Then it continued as a thick line across her forehead to the other side. Her hand was cool in contrast to her face but the pulse he could feel in her wrist was strong.
She must had hit her head on the steering wheel. Airbag didn't inflate so that's the only answer for the bruising unless he did it to her.......no it wasn't him. This old Indian isn't out to hurt but I don't want to take any chances. I just want to get her back to Christine. The cut needs stitches. Must have been the glass from the passenger side window. I know that was blood I saw on the seat. The hood and on the roof was from the animal. Did you hit that moose or did it hit you? You had to have been going too fast. You should have been able to stop.
"Since I found her last night. She hasn't really come to at all. Opened her eyes several times but that's common in patients in coma situations. Her head must have hit the steering wheel. I didn't see any airbag. I don't think it worked."
Michael stood and faced Raymond. "If she's in a coma, why did you call her Nikita? If you have her identification I would like it back. It was not in the car. She had no purse."
"Can you take a seat? We need to talk." He motioned to a chair kitty-corner from the couch. Michael stayed where he was. Raymond could feel the vibes that were starting to emanate off the younger man. The posture that was becoming more defensive and protective. It was becoming more difficult to kept the image of the black wolf out of his head. He was very much starting to resemble a protective mate. "I'm not going to hurt either of you."
There was no physical reaction from Michael but a simple question. "What are you?"
It made Raymond laugh. To Michael, it sounded self incriminating and bitter at the same time. "For 27 years, I've been denying what I was suppose to be. A son doesn't always grow up as his father or mother hopes him to."
Michael's eyes focused at the floor as what Raymond said hit him. Guilt and pain rolled over him like a wave. This guilt is never going to end. I can keep fighting it as long as I live but there is always going to be something.....I'm so tired of it all. Why can't I stop the hurt? Why won't it just die like everything else always seems to?
He saw the look in Michael's eyes before he turned them away. It was a potent expression of pain, regret and guilt. Raymond reached out a hand towards him and was puzzled by the almost frenzied way Michael pulled back. Clearly the man was on the defensive and the intense gaze was back on him. The green eyes glittered with a warning to back off. But there was something else. Raymond's senses began to study and diagnosis. The signs were all there. A slight understanding of this stranger was emerging for the doctor. This man had survived an episode of severe trauma, perhaps still was and thus let no one touch him. That was part of what made the look in the eyes. Noting the reaction to his parental mention, Raymond played on it.
"Whatever happened with your parents was not your fault. They were responsible for their own actions and consequences." He kept his voice even and calm. Raymond could feel the aggression getting stronger in Michael. The body was tensing and the breathing becoming more shallow and more rapid. But there was so much self restraint that the emotional outburst could only squirm under the lid.
With a dismissive air, Michael turned and knelt. He slipped one arm under Nikita before Raymond placed a hand in his shoulder. "You are not at fault."
Michael stood and pushed the hand off. He was so close to Raymond he could smell the man. His voice was low and harsh, nearly a snarl. "You didn't become the consequence or conclusion for their actions ." Raymond could hear the tremendous load of guilt he carried in his next words. "You didn't pull the trigger!"
This time the image of the wolf wouldn't go away. He remembered how it had snapped in his face in his dream. That was what Michael had just done. Raymond now understood why the animal had been wounded. Michael was too and for some reason he had been sent here. On one level to retrieve Nikita. But another to perhaps retrieve himself?
This time Michael didn't kneel. He scooped Nikita up and cradled her against his chest as if she was an object of fine porcelain. Once again, Raymond was struck by the tenderness. One moment violent and vicious, the next gentle and loving. Michael was a man of extremes and he needed to be centered. He needed help. The comment he had made seemed out of place. For some reason, he expected Raymond to pull a gun on him. "I have no gun to pull a trigger on, Michael."
"I did" came the soft reply as he laid a cheek on Nikita's head. Michael had no idea what prompted him to blurt that out. It was the worst thing he had ever done and he didn't want anyone to know what he was. Leaving was foremost in his mind, the walls suddenly felt like they were closing in. He started around the coffee table. Raymond could hear the murmurs Michael made against her head. "....home.....Christine to look.....mon coeur." Michael still felt no physical threat from Raymond but he felt unease. The same kind he felt from Madeline.
This man was trying to get inside his head and figure him out. All his sentences had been well constructed to get the answers he wanted, to get a reaction and possibly some revealing hints from him. Michael didn't want help. He just wanted to go ho.... He pulled away from that thought. Section One wasn't home. There was just the cabin, that was as much as they had right now. He wasn't about to give anyone the chance to get to him. People got hurt that way.
"Let me help you, Michael. I can help you stop being a prisoner of yourself and others. Maybe even find the key to open the bars. You might even be holding the key in your arms. But what good is the key if you can't reach it or use it." There was no response. " 'When pain grows sharp and sickness rages, the greatest love of life appears'. She was entering a place she may not want to leave, Michael. I may have to help you to convince her to come back. She wants this to end too. She wants 'someday'. Let me help you get to it. I need to help you. Both of you."
"It's not possible." Michael turned to look at Raymond. "You don't know where I come from. You don't understand what we are."
Frowning, Raymond said "You're not a what but a who, a human being. You need to remember that. If she is your heart, you owe it to her to try. I think there are two children to considered too. Katie and Reese. I know you came to get her for them. But they need you too." He plunged forward, taking chances and making assumptions. He had a great need to keep them both here. "Do you think they care if you're their biological father or not? No, they only care that you love them, are there for them. Both of you."
Michael lowered his head back to lean against the top of Nikita's head, eyes closed. Instinctively he felt it was right to trust this man. He had no logical basis for it. Some instinct just said it was right to do. He usually followed them, they kept him alive. But he hesitated, it might be right for him but what about Nikita. She needed a doctor but he was saying that the physical injuries were not a big problem. There was something else to worry about.....what did he mean she was entering a place she may not want to leave... Then for the first time in a very long time, he heard his father's voice in his head. He was awake and not dreaming. " He's right. Trust for them."
The image of her holding Reese in the garden room at Greg's was sharply etched in his head. "For them," he whispered so low that Raymond thought he only sighed in acceptance.
"Let's go put her in the bedroom. Then we'll share some talk over some coffee."
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Raymond pondered the things Michael told him as he stared off into the woods. The sun was almost finished setting and he was slightly surprised to discover that it was so late. Maybe because he was staggered by the story he heard from Michael. At times he had been flabbergasted, others outraged and still at other points, greatly saddened. What Michael had told him of Nikita had affected him in the same way. Once again, Raymond was struck by the cruelty of the world and how it affected others.
Their talk at first had been hesitant. It mainly had focused on his bond with Nikita. Michael had been more comfortable starting there. He was a very closed individual and had admitted it had taken them a long time to come to each other. There were times when they still struggled with the challenges they presented to each other in the relationship. Questions of trust and motivation were the biggest hurdles.
Raymond tried hard to match the vibrant image Michael had created of Nikita with the one that he had seen. She appeared rather small and delicate laying in his bed. Pale and bruised, she didn't fit the strong and brave young woman that Michael called his partner and now lover. The link he had felt between the two was quite strong. As was evidenced by the fact they were still becoming closer and closer in spite of the events of the past year, well two years really. The woman he had glimpsed earlier in the vision was closer to the one he described. Michael described how there was now a rage and hopelessness in her he could not alleviate. Things from her own past and now with what had happened with Reese and Katie....
The children had only further cemented their relationship. Their connection was a bit mottled but with the way they both obviously felt for Katie and Reese, the sense of family would be a solid one. There was a certain bit of pride for having guessed the situation about the children correctly. Reese's story was not complete but what ever the ending of it was, Michael refused to divulge it. It was a worry that would come back to haunt Michael, of that Raymond was sure.
Raymond had to confess to some trepidation over Katie's parentage. Taylor could feasiblely come back and demand his rights. Or worse yet, the events of the past could well up in Nikita again. Michael had not felt worried about that. To him, Taylor was not a factor in the sense that he would be back for Katie. He was agitated by how Taylor haunted Nikita but he already seen how it affected her and said he knew how to handle it. Experience told Raymond that Michael had only seen the tip of the iceberg, there was more below just waiting. He had seen that too many times. He eased the discussion from Nikita to Michael himself.
To call Michael a prisoner was an accurate image. It was true in the figurative sense as well as the literal. His guilt and regret had him solidly manacled to the past. The love and need to protect he felt for Nikita and the two children were the prison bars of the present. Protecting them protects you from yourself to a degree. Keeps you from facing what's inside and what's in the past.
Raymond shook his head. As divided as Michael was, moving on to the future would be a slow and painful if not impossible task. He didn't fight too hard because of what he was afraid of losing. They had been taken before. He had no reason to doubt it happening again. In fact the attempts had already been made. Michael resented the way he was manipulated and had to manipulate others. But for their futures it was necessary.
But Michael was also afraid of losing that which had become familiar. He hated Section One as he called it but it shaped his world and had in a way given him Nikita and now the rest of his 'family'. To the whole labyrinthine situation, Raymond now saw the intense obligation Michael felt to the people there. The complexity of it all astounded him.
This life that he and Nikita were submerged in made things extremely difficult not only in their relationship as a couple but also in how each treated themselves. He had tried to explain to Michael how the mind, brain and body all worked as a partnership. Each one was dependent on the other and if one wasn't working right or well the others picked up the slack. Michael in order not to deal with his background had instead focused on his body and brain. He was highly analytical and physical. But the development there had masked the psychological damage that had and was still occurring. It wasn't that Michael was 'crazy' but in need of help so that he could deal with the real world when he entered it. Or as Nikita termed it when 'someday' and its freedom came true.
Michael's description of how he fragmented himself was a disaster in a making that still was not resolved. There were major manifestations already . The dreams were only a small part. The inability to put to paper the images in his head another. Still another the emotional outbursts and mood swings. If charted, Raymond would be able to show him how they were escalating in intensity. He was heading for a breakdown. Without knowing him better, Raymond was unsure of what form it would take. But one thing he was sure about, Michael was a classic case of PTSD. The war time psychosis that had become mainstream in his lifetime and he had made his area of expertise. And it was getting worse. Concern also ran strongly for Nikita through Raymond. She was exhibiting the same signs from what Michael had described. Together they were a dangerous combination, apart there were steadily worsening functionality problems.
It struck him that they were a perfect fit for the old cliche of can't live with one and can't live without one. For the first time in a long while, he had the urge to work on healing someone. Michael would be a formidable challenge. He confessed amazement that the man who sat across the table was still as competent as he was. The scars he bore were incredible. But his biggest 'trump cards' for a better lack of description, were Nikita and the children plus his own recognition that he was in trouble. He admitted he needed help but was not only unable to do anything about it. The awareness of the dangerous ground he was on was not new to him. Not at all but he was afraid of the consequences of making that admission.
Raymond had keyed in on that. Michael was afraid. That was part of where the problem arose from. The core of the matter really laid within him. He was afraid of what laid ahead of him because of what he had done in the past. Guilt was a huge factor in his makeup and drove Michael like a wildfire drove rabbits from the underbrush. He saw himself as heartless and soulless, having given up both on the day his parents died. Letting go and realizing that he did not deserve or accept all the blame for events would make the guilt weaker. But he was unable to see his way clear to that.
"You've got one choice Michael. And you've got to make the move before it's too late. Not only for you but for her too."
The solemn green eyes had finally looked up at him for the first time in the past hour of conversation. On first mention of his parents, he had focused his eyes on the table, head hanging down in a defeated weary way and told what he felt he had done. Not only to his parents but eventually with his wife and child. He took all the blame and surrounded himself with the guilt it caused.
"What's my choice?"
"Get over the fear. Forgive yourself. Yes you pulled the trigger. Yes you killed your parents. Yes you contributed in a way to both Simone's death and Merle's. They're all your fault....."
He had watched as Michael's hands tightened around the cold mug. He could feel the anger rising in the young man.
"You hate hearing that don't you? Good....use that anger but don't believe the words that cause it. Get mad at yourself every time you think it. You've been, for lack of a better description, a highly trained and deadly puppet. To stay alive you did what you've been asked to do. You want the truth, friend, the only people I feel you actually have the blame in killing were the man who attacked Nikita. Bauer, I think you said his name was, his death was revenge. Pure and simple even though for you there were some justifiable reasons. Ones that you however should not have used as an excuse for yourself to act as judge, jury and executioner. Bauer was an animal but there was not an excuse for you to be the same. Life isn't always about giving back what you receive. The other was Greg, Reese's 'father'. You could have stopped that. I can think of no reason to say that was right to let go on. Even if you thought it was doing the greatest good for the greatest number. You made the wrong decision there....... At the end that may be the only stain you bear."
At that point Michael had gotten up and went into the bedroom. Raymond had allowed him a few minutes then went in also. He was sitting on the bed, studying Nikita's eyes and bruised face.
"I want a life and I want my dreams to be good instead of the nightmares I see every time I close my eyes to sleep. I want peace. I want to be able to see beyond just today without worrying that something will happen to tomorrow."
"Then take the first step, take the chance... forgive yourself. Let go of the guilt. Let it fly to whom it belongs. Move forward by working on getting rid of the past's power over you."
A sudden chill ran through Raymond. He felt something pulling him. Turning, he went back in the cottage. Michael was still asleep in the chair at the kitchen table. A little while ago he had put his head on his arms describing the relationship he had with the two people Nikita had mentioned in the vision Raymond had. As he had talked, the words came more and more slowly until finally he had fallen asleep.
Raymond had smiled as he put a blanket from the linen closet around the hunched shoulders. As guarded and protective as the man was, to fall asleep as he had signified a degree of trust that Michael felt for Raymond. That and possible exhaustion. He didn't sleep much, perhaps a few hours would do him good. "Sleep well Michael. Pleasant dreams." Then he had gone outside.
Now from inside, something was tugging at him. Michael seemed peaceful, his breathing slow and deep. He looked towards the bedroom. It could only be Nikita. She must have crossed a threshold. Raymond had to make sure she was willing to make the return trip.
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Floor cleaner... why could she smell floor cleaner? Cold stone tile under her body too. Nikita knew she had to be imagining this. Maybe from the blow to her head, the airbag ....it wasn't there when she undid the seatbelt. From far away she could hear voices. Then one that was closer. God, that sounds like Reese....
"Mommy, 'ook....." The scream pierced the air and cut into Nikita's head. With a groan she tried to lift her head but it was too heavy. She tried to dig her nails into the ground but couldn't. She was on cold smooth stone. "Mommy!" followed by the shrill scream again.
"Pieces, what is your... AUNT CHRISSY!!!!" Nikita knew that voice, it was Katie. She tried to open her eyes. The images she got had no shape, just watery colors. She moaned again. "Reese go get Aunt Chrissy and Uncle Simon NOW!! VITE!!"
Nikita could hear Reese scrambling away, yelling for Aunt Chrissy and Uncle Si. He was running and talking. It was impossible he was too little. A hand slid down her hair and another grabbed her outstretched arm as she tried to move again. "Mom? Listen to me, please don't move. Wait till Aunt Chrissy gets here. Let her tell you what to do."
"What is wrong with you two....Oh God, Nikita!!" That was Christine's voice. Nikita could feel her practiced hands, checking and looking for problems.
"Honey, what's going on? Reese is going ape..." That was Simon and he had Reese with him because Nikita could hear him babbling and crying now. "Reese please shhh...let me hear....
down.....stop it!"
"Si...just put him down. Katie please take your brother into the dining room. Now..."
" 'Kay Aunt Chrissy....Pieces come on...." Nikita could still hear him crying but it softer now. Katie made a sound as if lifting something. "Is Mom ok?"
"I need to look at her first."
"Should I call Dad at the gallery? He said he'd be there all day."
"No, wait." Simon said sternly. "Just get Reese calmed down...out there." Then there was silence and she could barely hear Reese's muffled whining through the closed door.
"Nikita, can you hear me?" Christine was looking for an answer but all Nikita could do was moan. "Ok, we going to roll you over, let me know if anything hurts." Nikita could feel different hands on her. It had to be Simon. "Try and open your eyes...." She could hear Christine talking to herself. "...no lacerations, no contusions...I want you to try and open your eyes, Nikita."
Reluctantly she did as Christine told her to do. Things were still blurry but more in focus than they were before. "Christine?" she said softly. A face appeared in front of her.
"Right here. What happened?"
"I...I....hit ....I.. think..... a deer" It was hard to remember. No it hadn't been a deer. It was too big, maybe it was a moose. "No moose ....no brakes, slid... went down.... over and over...."
"No, Nikita, not what you were dreaming...how you ended here on the kitchen floor. Were you coming down from upstairs or were you going upstairs?"
Nikita was silent as she tried concentrating on remembering. Clarity struck her like a bullet. The pain in her head was gone but she felt completely bewildered. She turned to look at Simon. His hair was long again and held back in a ponytail. Then she looked to Christine. Her hair was shorter but the color was more of an auburn and she was pale as a ghost, not her usual slightly tanned self. Pushing some hair back off her cheek, Nikita surveyed her surroundings. She was in the kitchen, on the floor, at the cabin. Pushing Simon's supporting hands away, she managed to sit up and then get to her feet. She swayed for a moment.
Looking over at Christine, she saw Simon helping her stand up. Christine's profile made her blink several times. "You're pregnant!!"
Astonished at the comment, Christine looked at her with an odd expression. "Yeah, I have been for the past 7 months, Kita."
Holding her hand to her head she leaned against the wall. Christine pregnant within Section and she wasn't panicking. Simon's hair long again and the kids here. Something was totally out of place here. Was it her? "What did they say?"
"Nothing, it's a natural thing. I'll take time off. They can deal with one less doctor in that place. We decided to start instead of waiting any longer. Simon saw a gray hair and freaked so I gave in." She laughed a little. "Besides I think you and Michael are a little tired of sharing Reese."
"One less Doctor? Sharing Reese? You're married?" She watched as Simon nodded and Christine gave her a 'what, are you stupid' look. Lurching off the wall, Nikita pushed open the door only to be greeted by a blur that rammed into her knees and shins.
"MOMMY!!!" If Simon had not been right behind her, she would have fallen over. Quickly she knelt and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him hard.
"Oh God...this can't be real....Oh God...." she breathed. Reese's hair had lightened more and the curl was much less pronounced as she buried her face in it. He smelled like candy, sweat and dirt. He seemed taller and thinner and was walking, running. With a whine, he tried to pull away. Reality was seeming stranger and stranger.
"No kisses mommy. Yuck, Reese don't want a kiss. Let go." Nikita slowly relaxed her grip and looked up. Katie stood not more than a foot from her. She had to have grown at least 4 inches if not more. Her hair was longer and leaning more towards a real strawberry blonde now.
Stretching out a hand, she tried to touch Katie's cheek. "Katie...."
"Mom, you ok?" Katie could tell her mom was kind of ok but she was acting strange. Almost like she didn't know what was going on. "You're acting strange."
"Come here." She whispered to her daughter. Katie threw her arms around Nikita's neck and hugged her hard. Nikita returned the hug. Katie smelled like vanilla and jasmine mixed together. The tears started to fall, she couldn't help it. Her dream had come true. How she had no idea but here she was living it. They were real. She could feel them and smell them. For the first in a long time she felt really happy. "You smell like vanilla and jasmine. I like it."
Katie pulled back and smelled her shirt sleeve. "I don't smell like...." Then there was a sheepish grin. "That's the new perfume Dad brought you home from Italy a couple of weeks ago."
A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over her. For a moment everything went blank. Then she found herself sitting at the dining room with Christine in the chair beside her. "I want you to come to the hospital with me so we can check you out. I think you might have a concussion. That kitchen floor is pretty hard."
Slowly Nikita shook her head. "I need some answers. What is going on here? Why is Oscar and Madeline toying with me? Why this big elaborate ruse?"
Christine looked at her in confusion. "What are you talking about, Nikita? Why are you even asking about those two?"
"What do you mean? They're up to something."
"None of us have seen them in almost 2 years!"
"WHAT?"
"The last we saw of them was the last debriefing. When they disbanded Section. We all were cut loose. Names, money, homes and jobs if we wanted them. Most went into places with in the other organizations. Some of us opted out. I remembering Operations walking across the center of ops with just a briefcase in his hand. Madeline handed you an envelope. There were adoption papers in it. You and Michael were legally Reese's parents. There was a marriage license for the two of you and a check for an insane amount of money. We got almost the same thing. Don't you re...."
Nikita stood up so fast the chair crashed to the floor. "What the hell are talking about? Jesus this isn't real. I'm in a dream. Stop this playing with me. Leave.... get out of my head!! Don't torture me with this!"
"Nikita, stop! This is real! You starting to scare me!"
"I don't remember any of this happening!" Her hand catching in her hair reoriented her attention. Pulling it down, she saw the simple diamond ring on top of the wedding ban she had put in the jewelry box weeks ago. Frantically she pulled it off and looked inside the ring. Advertisements always showed them engraved inside. Nikita thought her heart stopped as she saw their initials and the date. There was a over a year difference from the date she remembered seeing on the calendar. "What's the date, Christine?"
Her answer hit Nikita like a vicious slap to the face. The rings slipped from her nerveless fingers and her knees got weak. She started shaking. Gasps of breath came out of her mouth loudly. "I don't remember...how....how the hell did I get here? WHY DON'T I REMEMBER?!" The last words she screamed as she collapsed to her knees.
The eyes that sought out Christine were not tear filled but wide with fear and disbelief. Worry was clear on Christine's face. "Come on, we're going to the hospital. We've got to get you looked at."
End of part four...
written by Tammy
Continue on to Perchance To Dream, part five
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