He stared past the gun that was shaking in his face. Shaking from desperation, pain, confusion.
He stared past her trembling hand. Her frowing mouth, pouting lips. Her frantic voice.
Past her eyes, filling with tears for what she was doing.
He even pushed away the emotions she was displaying. Her pain. Her great need. Her body and mind, at war with each other. It showed his efforts were improving, but that wasn't on his mind either.
She had been turned in to a monster of sorts. She was a slave of Section. They held her firmly in their grasp, moreso than they had ever had her before. She belonged to them, stamped and bought.
He had tried to solve that. He was still trying. But she was making it harder and harder. He didn't doubt himself, but his mind was beginning to draw blanks when it came to more ideas.
None of this was what he was focusing on at the moment though. It wasn't like him, not thinking first of his duty. His mission. But he couldn't help it. After all the bizarre things he'd witnessed over the last few months, this was just one more.
He was looking at Nikita, but at the same time, he wasn't. He was seeing the woman that she would have become, left to care for herself on the streets. Addicted to drugs, a slave to her seller. Drinking away her sorrows and drug inflicted aches. Doing whatever she had to, just to get those drugs that her body so craved. Anything.
She had an amazing character. So true. Pure. It was one thing he had always noticed, from the very beginning. It was one thing Section never took away from her. Never, until now.
Section had turned on both of them, full force. But had Section truly saved her life?
What was a better fate for this normally gentle woman? Being a drug abuser or a killing machine? Had Section really saved her from what would have destroyed her faster, while in full conscious of what she was doing?
Could it be, as he looked in to the very eyes of torment, that he was also looking at salvation? Could it be possible that such polar opposites could be caused by one and the same?
Section had taken away Simone. Followed by Adam, Elena. They've been trying for years to take Nikita from him, but so far, he had her in his grips enough to not allow that.
He didn't like Section. Would never give them credit for anything. It was cruel, had taken away all that was meaningful to him in his life.
Even his Nikita.
So why did he keep seeing her like she could have been, and thanking God all she was doing was holding that gun trembling in his face?
She wasn't aware of what she was doing; not really. She'd not feel much guilt over doing what she had been. After all, she'd been wiped out, a new program replacing her emotions. This was her job.
Unlike the job she would have had. Unlike the conscience she would of had to deal with.
Could he really be thankful though, to a place who had taken her out of such conditions but put her in one such as this?
He didn't feel the impact of the butt of the gun, but he reacted accordingly, listening to her footsteps quicken in haste.
She was crying. She didn't like doing this; acting like this. He felt sorry for her, what she was going through.
Maybe he'd been hit a little too hard, for what was sense and what was insanity was blurred.
She'd be all right. He'd get her back, fix her. And then she could go on being the lovable, caring person he knew her to be.
Living in her safe, cozy apartment. Working with her friends. Getting three meals a day, dressed in her fashion taste, happy and laughing for the most part. She had a protector that, at least usually, was able to save her from doing what would plague her later.
He broke the arms of the chair and started chasing after her. Right now, he hated Section, for what it had done to her.
But there was also an inkling of respect, of gratefulness, of her overall life.
She had to kill. She had to do immoral things. She had no opinion or voice.
But considering the alternative, he rathered her here, where he could care for her to make sure she didn't get herself too deep in the wounds of Section.
He wasn't sure what that made him or if she would share his unspoken opinion. Right now he had work to do, too much so to think. Hopefully he could forget about this later, not have to think about it.
At least for now though, it was a small comfort in his mind. It took his thoughts away from what was really happening, what Nikita was doing to herself. He didn't have to think about her inner torture, what she was attempting to do.
How opposite she was being of her own self.
It was a small comfort, but one that would have to do until he could manage to change their reality.