Reaching Out

Reaching Out

By: Kyara Caledonii

Copyright May 6, 1998

The look on his face spoke of guilt, utter heartbreak and horror at what he had just done. With his head bowed down, stumbling past her, unable to look up.

Lifting the wineglass to her mouth, Nikita recalled the glistening tears in his eyes, the slight quivering of his chin that he never bothered trying to hide. Sighing, she set her glass down and picked up the phone, finger poised over the quick dial for his number.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. Getting to her feet, phone still in her hand, she peered around the corner looking at the small security cam screen. Her heart lurched at the sight of him. Pulling the door open, she looked into his eyes.

"Michael…."

She reached out and pulled him gently into the foyer, closing the door behind them. Setting her phone onto the counter, she turned back to him, undoing the buttons of his soaking wet jacket amazed at how cold he seemed.

"The water…." He began to apologize motioning to the puddle growing at his feet.

Nikita shook her head, pulling the wet coat down off his shoulders. "Don’t worry about it. Take off your boots and sit down. I’ll hang this up in the bathroom to dry off."

She gave him a smile as she left him to go up the small steps leading to her room. By the time she got back, Michael had taken off his boots and was now standing in sock feet by her balcony doors, looking blankly out into the stormy skies. Water dripped from his disheveled hair, making dark spots on his shirt yet he seemed unmindful.

Nikita shook out the towel in her hand and came to his side, handing it to him.

"For your hair, you’ll catch a cold otherwise." She handed it to him looking at his pained face with empathy.

Turning to look down at it, he took it from her slowly, mumbling his thanks.

"Coffee?" She asked her hand touching his shoulder as he rubbed his hair.

Wordlessly, he nodded under the towel unaware of the smile on her face at watching him perform this simple innocent task. It was the small things he did that made her smile. They seemed so far and few between that when he did let his guard down, it was endearing to her.

Padding quietly across the floor, she went into the kitchen. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him pull the towel from his head, admiring his profile. His hair was dark; the curls seemed more pronounced now that it was wet and loose, so different from the controlled look he usually wore in Section.

"You can hang the towel over the back of that chair." She motioned to one of the small dining room chairs not far from where he stood. Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she measured out the coffee grinds into the filter. A rumble of thunder sounded outside followed by a brilliant white flash of lightening making her almost jump.

"The storm is getting closer. I’m glad you came in to get out of it." She said flipping the switch, turning to look back at him.

Michael had just placed the towel neatly over the back and was turning to go back to the balcony doors.

When he didn’t answer her, she came to his side, standing beside him looking out into the storm waiting for him to speak.

"I betrayed him Kita." His hushed voice broke the silence between them, making her look over at him.

"He didn’t give you any choice Michael." She said returning her gaze to the storm one again.

"Yes, I had the choice." He countered not bothering to wipe away the loose curl that fell down over his eye.

"Michael…Let it go."

He continued to stare blankly out into the grayness of the day, feeling empty, bereft of any feelings due to the events of the past few days.

The smell of the freshly brewed coffee wafted about making her turn to look back at it. "Coffee is ready. Can I pour you a cup?" She asked moving to go to the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks."

Another flash of lightening lit up the room, followed by a loud crashing of thunder overhead made Michael move towards one of the many groupings of candles Nikita had collected, lighting a few of them.

Nikita came back with the cups and handed him his.

"Hot, strong and black just like you like it." She gave him a smile taking a sip before setting it down on the square coffee table.

"Thank you." He replied, inhaling the rich aroma with appreciation. He felt exhausted, weak and was glad he had come to her. He had wandered about aimlessly on the streets in the rain not knowing where to go for hours yet found himself standing at her door. Thoughts of Rene, their times together, the marches, protests, the rebellious streak in both of them that made them so close, much like brothers. Now he was dead. Dead because of the very thing that made him so great in Michael’s eyes. Dead because of his own loyalty to Section. The whole thing made him feel ill he decided, bringing the cup to his lips with a shaky hand. He found himself staring into the flickering flame of one candle, losing himself in the dance it seemed to be performing for him, beginning to feel overwhelmingly tired.

Nikita went to the blinds and closed the bottom portion for privacy yet still allowing the brilliant white flashes of light into the room. The rain beat on the glass making her give a small shiver rubbing her arms, turned to look back at him.

"You look tired Michael. Would you like to lie down?" She asked watching him seat himself back down, elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed forward.

"To sleep is to dream…." His voice trailed off yet he didn’t raise his head making Nikita furrow her eyebrows in puzzlement.

"Sometimes dreams are all we have."

Michael looked up at her and Nikita cast him a smile. "Just something I heard."

Michael looked back down again to hide the look of pain that passed over his face, recalling how he had said the very thing to her so long ago.

"Dreams are not always what we want. Sometimes dreams haunt us, denying us peace from ourselves." He countered back softly keeping his head bowed.

Nikita came to his side, seating herself onto the soft couch, pulling her foot under her bottom. Touching his arm, she let her hand rest on his taut muscles.

"Michael, you need to rest. Come on. Forget the coffee." She urged gently, placing her arm over his shoulders, leaning forward to try to catch a glimpse of his face.

Turning his head, their eyes met, holding the other for a moment.

"I can’t. " His voice was faint, barley audible over the sound of the rain pounding on the windows. Pulling himself to his feet, Michael ran his fingers through his hair, fingers laced together as he rested them on the back of his neck looking upwards.

"I should go. Thank you for the coffee." He said finally, his hands coming down to his sides suddenly as he turned to face her still sitting on the couch.

"Is that what you want?" She asked leaning her elbow.

As if thinking to himself, he pulled his eyes from her face and looked off to the right at nothing in particular, trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts.

"No." He managed to say after what seemed like forever.

Picking up his still hot mug of black coffee, she held it out to him. "Then sit and drink this." Michael came forward, taking the mug from her.

"I thought you said I should forget the coffee. "

Nikita grinned, a little chuckle coming up as she nodded. "Yes, I did.....but its decaf."

Swallowing, Michael let a small smile pass over his face. It was then he knew, with her he was going to be all right in the end after all.

THE END


	Reaching Out By: Kyara Caledonii Copyright May 6, 1998 The look on his face spoke of guilt, utter heartbreak and horror at what he had just done. With his head bowed down, stumbling past her, unable to look up. Lifting the wineglass to her mouth, Nikita recalled the glistening tears in his eyes, the slight quivering of his chin that he never bothered trying to hide. Sighing, she set her glass down and picked up the phone, finger poised over the quick dial for his number. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. Getting to her feet, phone still in her hand, she peered around the corner looking at the small security cam screen. Her heart lurched at the sight of him. Pulling the door open, she looked into his eyes. "Michael…." She reached out and pulled him gently into the foyer, closing the door behind them. Setting her phone onto the counter, she turned back to him, undoing the buttons of his soaking wet jacket amazed at how cold he seemed. "The water…." He began to apologize motioning to the puddle growing at his feet. Nikita shook her head, pulling the wet coat down off his shoulders. "Don’t worry about it. Take off your boots and sit down. I’ll hang this up in the bathroom to dry off." She gave him a smile as she left him to go up the small steps leading to her room. By the time she got back, Michael had taken off his boots and was now standing in sock feet by her balcony doors, looking blankly out into the stormy skies. Water dripped from his disheveled hair, making dark spots on his shirt yet he seemed unmindful. Nikita shook out the towel in her hand and came to his side, handing it to him. "For your hair, you’ll catch a cold otherwise." She handed it to him looking at his pained face with empathy. Turning to look down at it, he took it from her slowly, mumbling his thanks. "Coffee?" She asked her hand touching his shoulder as he rubbed his hair. Wordlessly, he nodded under the towel unaware of the smile on her face at watching him perform this simple innocent task. It was the small things he did that made her smile. They seemed so far and few between that when he did let his guard down, it was endearing to her. Padding quietly across the floor, she went into the kitchen. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him pull the towel from his head, admiring his profile. His hair was dark; the curls seemed more pronounced now that it was wet and loose, so different from the controlled look he usually wore in Section. "You can hang the towel over the back of that chair." She motioned to one of the small dining room chairs not far from where he stood. Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she measured out the coffee grinds into the filter. A rumble of thunder sounded outside followed by a brilliant white flash of lightening making her almost jump. "The storm is getting closer. I’m glad you came in to get out of it." She said flipping the switch, turning to look back at him. Michael had just placed the towel neatly over the back and was turning to go back to the balcony doors. When he didn’t answer her, she came to his side, standing beside him looking out into the storm waiting for him to speak. "I betrayed him Kita." His hushed voice broke the silence between them, making her look over at him. "He didn’t give you any choice Michael." She said returning her gaze to the storm one again. "Yes, I had the choice." He countered not bothering to wipe away the loose curl that fell down over his eye. "Michael…Let it go." He continued to stare blankly out into the grayness of the day, feeling empty, bereft of any feelings due to the events of the past few days. The smell of the freshly brewed coffee wafted about making her turn to look back at it. "Coffee is ready. Can I pour you a cup?" She asked moving to go to the kitchen. "Yes, thanks." Another flash of lightening lit up the room, followed by a loud crashing of thunder overhead made Michael move towards one of the many groupings of candles Nikita had collected, lighting a few of them. Nikita came back with the cups and handed him his. "Hot, strong and black just like you like it." She gave him a smile taking a sip before setting it down on the square coffee table. "Thank you." He replied, inhaling the rich aroma with appreciation. He felt exhausted, weak and was glad he had come to her. He had wandered about aimlessly on the streets in the rain not knowing where to go for hours yet found himself standing at her door. Thoughts of Rene, their times together, the marches, protests, the rebellious streak in both of them that made them so close, much like brothers. Now he was dead. Dead because of the very thing that made him so great in Michael’s eyes. Dead because of his own loyalty to Section. The whole thing made him feel ill he decided, bringing the cup to his lips with a shaky hand. He found himself staring into the flickering flame of one candle, losing himself in the dance it seemed to be performing for him, beginning to feel overwhelmingly tired. Nikita went to the blinds and closed the bottom portion for privacy yet still allowing the brilliant white flashes of light into the room. The rain beat on the glass making her give a small shiver rubbing her arms, turned to look back at him. "You look tired Michael. Would you like to lie down?" She asked watching him seat himself back down, elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed forward. "To sleep is to dream…." His voice trailed off yet he didn’t raise his head making Nikita furrow her eyebrows in puzzlement. "Sometimes dreams are all we have." Michael looked up at her and Nikita cast him a smile. "Just something I heard." Michael looked back down again to hide the look of pain that passed over his face, recalling how he had said the very thing to her so long ago. "Dreams are not always what we want. Sometimes dreams haunt us, denying us peace from ourselves." He countered back softly keeping his head bowed. Nikita came to his side, seating herself onto the soft couch, pulling her foot under her bottom. Touching his arm, she let her hand rest on his taut muscles. "Michael, you need to rest. Come on. Forget the coffee." She urged gently, placing her arm over his shoulders, leaning forward to try to catch a glimpse of his face. Turning his head, their eyes met, holding the other for a moment. "I can’t. " His voice was faint, barley audible over the sound of the rain pounding on the windows. Pulling himself to his feet, Michael ran his fingers through his hair, fingers laced together as he rested them on the back of his neck looking upwards. "I should go. Thank you for the coffee." He said finally, his hands coming down to his sides suddenly as he turned to face her still sitting on the couch. "Is that what you want?" She asked leaning her elbow. As if thinking to himself, he pulled his eyes from her face and looked off to the right at nothing in particular, trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts. "No." He managed to say after what seemed like forever. Picking up his still hot mug of black coffee, she held it out to him. "Then sit and drink this." Michael came forward, taking the mug from her. "I thought you said I should forget the coffee. " Nikita grinned, a little chuckle coming up as she nodded. "Yes, I did.....but its decaf." Swallowing, Michael let a small smile pass over his face. It was then he knew, with her he was going to be all right in the end after all. THE END