fic: you are one of god's mistakes
you are one of god's mistakes
six years later and the jury's still out.
Alphas. Nina Theroux (Nina/Hicks + ensemble)
1588. light R.
spoilers up to 1x04, speculation based on previews.
[AN: seemingly unpopular fandom opinion ahead - I like Nina/Hicks. I think they have a great chemistry there - hindered by the clunky and at times, awkward dialogue - but the actors manage to sell it. However, I digress - this isn't a ship manifesto. Moving on. The show itself is finding its feet, granted, and Ryan Cartwright distracts me with the British inflections in his American accent, but there's so much they can do with this. I like Nina particularly - I love strong female characters in general, but most of all I love her questionable morality. That her ability is intrusive and, unlike some of the others on the team, is not without consequences. And her back story, out of all of them, intrigues me the most. New to this fandom, but I hope you enjoy.]
First things first:
There’s always a downside.
“What do you know about my affliction?”
She’s young, so young and there is a sneer on her painted lips as the good doctor pleads with her to see reason.
“You can’t keep living like this, Miss Theroux.”
Nina does a quick calculation of what this entails; luxury apartments, fast cars, designer clothes-
In short: Anything. She. Wants.
She’s so young and this is all she knows.
“On the contrary, I think I can.”
And she’s walking away; away from Doctor Rosen, away from his merry band of misfits and away from whatever he’s offering.
(Everything? Nothing?)
Nina doesn’t stay around long enough to ask.
She always knew what she was capable of. Her ability was never hidden, it was never hard to access and she knew how to work it to her advantage.
Clothes, concert tickets, curfews. Nina had everything at her fingertips and took it eagerly.
Little girls who get everything never grow up to be heroes.
Let’s be honest though; that was never really her agenda.
“Why do you call it The Compound?”
She’s quiet, Rachel. Nervous and naïve and Nina knows that in this business, those traits are not a good combination.
It leaves one susceptible to creeps like Wilson.
Nina’s not a nice person, but she has her moments.
“It’s where they send the Alphas that misuse their abilities. You can dress it up and call it a fancy name, but at the end of the day, it is what it is.”
“What is it?”
“A prison.” Nina shrugs and the younger girl shivers.
“Could…could we be sent there?”
Nina holds back a smirk, because this group? This government freak show project? Made up of by the book FBI Agents and nut jobs?
“Honey, that’s the last thing you have to worry about.”
(Nina, not so much.)
There was a boyfriend once. But you knew that, didn’t you.
There was a boyfriend and he was good and kind and accepted her and accepted her ability.
But this was years ago. Before any government initiatives. Back when Doctor Rosen was an eccentric academic and there were no rules and she was young and reckless and didn’t see the big picture.
Couldn’t see the big picture. (There’s a difference.)
But there was a boyfriend with good intentions and there was Nina, young and angry, screaming at him to jump off a roof.
And he did.
Hicks breaks another window.
Gary’s doing a running tally (five! he calls out, never glancing away from his own work) and Bill’s chastising him and Nina-
Nina plasters on a smile and saunters across the hall.
“Want to talk about it?”
Hicks sighs in that way he does; like he’s got all the problems in the world and nothing anyone can do can make them go away. And maybe he does - Nina doesn’t know him.
(Hell, she likes that.)
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs and she smiles knowingly.
“Issues with the ex?” Nina pries, “If you want more time with your kid, I could always persuade her-”
“It doesn’t work like that, Nina.”
He’s abrupt and her smile falters.
“It could. If you let it.”
She doesn’t need to turn around to know he’s watching her walk away.
There’s blood on the pavement and a body still warm and a crowd; silent and judging and she does not cry, even when Agent Wilson leads her away in handcuffs. She does not cry when she is interrogated for hours, when the scientists take over with their gloves and lights and medical jargon. She does not cry at the hospital when her boyfriend, paralysed and slipping in and out of consciousness tells her he never wants to see her again.
She does not cry when Rosen offers to help her. She does not cry when she accepts.
Years later, she still does not cry. Instead she wakes up screaming.
“Are you okay?”
Caught off guard, Nina whips her head around. Hicks enters her office without a second thought and she relaxes into the familiar routine.
“Twisted ankle. Which is what I get for chasing an Alpha in Manolos-”
“That’s not what I meant.”
(It’s moments like these Nina wonders if his alpha ability extends to some kind of soul staring gaze that makes any wall she’s built up crumble.)
“Rachel can’t keep a secret.”
“Rachel’s concerned. I’m concerned.”
With a forced laugh, Nina stands to grab her bag, eager for an escape.
“No one needs to be concerned. I’m fine. Always have been, always will.”
He grabs her wrist, holding her firmly in place.
“And waking up screaming is fine in your book?”
“Cameron…”
“If you’re in some kind of trouble…”
His words hang there; not quite a question, not quite a statement and she glances down, his hand a weight around her wrist.
Hicks expects rational.
She kisses him instead.
Nina likes his apartment. Sure, it’s not a loft in Soho, but it has its charms.
Like the three flights of stairs he manoeuvres them up, carrying her after the second. Like his couch; four paces from the door that she falls onto, positioning herself lengthwise while she slowly unzips her boots, watching him squirm. Like the metal rungs of his headboard, the way her hands curl around them and his hands curl around hers and with every thrust she meets his lips and steals her name right out of his mouth.
See? Utterly charming.
In her dreams, she’s in a showdown.
Marcus is covered in ash and she has blood on her hands and between them stands Rosen and in the distance lies Binghamton.
Marcus flips his coin. Rosen tells her to call it.
She wakes before the coin hits the ground. Nina’s always known the verdict.
With the right amount of coffee, he’s a morning person. The thought makes her wrinkle her nose in disgust.
But he’s cooked her breakfast and as she saunters into his kitchen, wearing his flannel shirt - buttoned strategically, of course - she can’t help but view this as endearing.
“All this for me?”
Hicks chuckles.
“I’ve seen what you eat at the office. Thought you could use a proper meal.”
“So you admit to ‘watching’ me?” Nina grins over the rim of her mug. Hicks shrugs coyly.
“Only because I know you’ve been watching me.”
Her silence is her admission and for a moment there are no games. He meets her eyes and she meets his and as he tucks the stray curls behind her ears she can’t help but think how easy it would be to make him do anything right now.
(Old habits die hard, or so it seems.)
She sneaks out while he’s in the shower. At her apartment, Rachel doesn’t say a word about her crumpled appearance, but judging by the slight wrinkle of her nose, she doesn’t need the younger girls ability to know that she smells of sweat and sex and perfume and him.
“Do we have to tape this?”
Nina drums her fingers along the side of the armchair. Rosen lets out an audible sigh.
“You know we do.”
“It’s been over six years, Doctor,” she stares to the side, “am I to assume you have hundreds of tapes of me hidden away somewhere?”
“Perhaps instead we should discuss why you’re still abusing your ability, despite the strict agency scrutiny?”
“What excuse should I give you this week?” Nina’s expression is one of exasperation. “That it’s about the thrill, that’s it’s a matter of control. Or that my father didn’t love me and I’m just trying to fill a giant void in my life. Or maybe it’s because the pay is crap and I have a lifestyle to maintain. Pick one, Doctor Rosen, any one so then we can end this session and you can help someone who actually has problems.”
“Your actions have consequences, Nina. You know this better than anyone.”
The tape’s still rolling as she slams the door.
Her room is cold. Linoleum floors and concrete walls painted a deceptively sunny shade of yellow; the blanket offers little in terms of warmth.
The orderlies avoid eye contact when they bring her meals. They all do.
Except Doctor Rosen.
She’s not dangerous, he pleads to various government agencies - the alpha phenomenon is new, so new that no one knows if this is a NSA or CIA or DoD issue.
It was an emotional over reaction. With regular therapy and monitoring she can lead a normal life. She’s not a criminal.
Six years later and the jury’s still out on that one.
The light from the street slips through the cracks of his curtains and it’s distracting. So is he; from the rhythmic beating of his heart to his short, quick breaths to his hand on her bare hip, fingers tracing indistinguishable patterns on his skin.
“Have you ever been there?” Hicks murmurs, “Binghamton?”
For a split second, she considers telling him all her secrets and truths and lies alike. Her stint at the facility, her boyfriend, the long dark corridors, the screams and the blank, empty faces.
But Nina Theroux has never been one to reveal her cards before it’s her turn to play.
She feigns sleep instead.
When she’s with him, she doesn’t wake up screaming.
The facts are these:
Nina knows what she wants, gets what she wants, consequences be damned.
The downside?
She doesn’t necessarily see it until it’s too late.
six years later and the jury's still out.
Alphas. Nina Theroux (Nina/Hicks + ensemble)
1588. light R.
spoilers up to 1x04, speculation based on previews.
[AN: seemingly unpopular fandom opinion ahead - I like Nina/Hicks. I think they have a great chemistry there - hindered by the clunky and at times, awkward dialogue - but the actors manage to sell it. However, I digress - this isn't a ship manifesto. Moving on. The show itself is finding its feet, granted, and Ryan Cartwright distracts me with the British inflections in his American accent, but there's so much they can do with this. I like Nina particularly - I love strong female characters in general, but most of all I love her questionable morality. That her ability is intrusive and, unlike some of the others on the team, is not without consequences. And her back story, out of all of them, intrigues me the most. New to this fandom, but I hope you enjoy.]
First things first:
There’s always a downside.
“What do you know about my affliction?”
She’s young, so young and there is a sneer on her painted lips as the good doctor pleads with her to see reason.
“You can’t keep living like this, Miss Theroux.”
Nina does a quick calculation of what this entails; luxury apartments, fast cars, designer clothes-
In short: Anything. She. Wants.
She’s so young and this is all she knows.
“On the contrary, I think I can.”
And she’s walking away; away from Doctor Rosen, away from his merry band of misfits and away from whatever he’s offering.
(Everything? Nothing?)
Nina doesn’t stay around long enough to ask.
She always knew what she was capable of. Her ability was never hidden, it was never hard to access and she knew how to work it to her advantage.
Clothes, concert tickets, curfews. Nina had everything at her fingertips and took it eagerly.
Little girls who get everything never grow up to be heroes.
Let’s be honest though; that was never really her agenda.
“Why do you call it The Compound?”
She’s quiet, Rachel. Nervous and naïve and Nina knows that in this business, those traits are not a good combination.
It leaves one susceptible to creeps like Wilson.
Nina’s not a nice person, but she has her moments.
“It’s where they send the Alphas that misuse their abilities. You can dress it up and call it a fancy name, but at the end of the day, it is what it is.”
“What is it?”
“A prison.” Nina shrugs and the younger girl shivers.
“Could…could we be sent there?”
Nina holds back a smirk, because this group? This government freak show project? Made up of by the book FBI Agents and nut jobs?
“Honey, that’s the last thing you have to worry about.”
(Nina, not so much.)
There was a boyfriend once. But you knew that, didn’t you.
There was a boyfriend and he was good and kind and accepted her and accepted her ability.
But this was years ago. Before any government initiatives. Back when Doctor Rosen was an eccentric academic and there were no rules and she was young and reckless and didn’t see the big picture.
Couldn’t see the big picture. (There’s a difference.)
But there was a boyfriend with good intentions and there was Nina, young and angry, screaming at him to jump off a roof.
And he did.
Hicks breaks another window.
Gary’s doing a running tally (five! he calls out, never glancing away from his own work) and Bill’s chastising him and Nina-
Nina plasters on a smile and saunters across the hall.
“Want to talk about it?”
Hicks sighs in that way he does; like he’s got all the problems in the world and nothing anyone can do can make them go away. And maybe he does - Nina doesn’t know him.
(Hell, she likes that.)
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs and she smiles knowingly.
“Issues with the ex?” Nina pries, “If you want more time with your kid, I could always persuade her-”
“It doesn’t work like that, Nina.”
He’s abrupt and her smile falters.
“It could. If you let it.”
She doesn’t need to turn around to know he’s watching her walk away.
There’s blood on the pavement and a body still warm and a crowd; silent and judging and she does not cry, even when Agent Wilson leads her away in handcuffs. She does not cry when she is interrogated for hours, when the scientists take over with their gloves and lights and medical jargon. She does not cry at the hospital when her boyfriend, paralysed and slipping in and out of consciousness tells her he never wants to see her again.
She does not cry when Rosen offers to help her. She does not cry when she accepts.
Years later, she still does not cry. Instead she wakes up screaming.
“Are you okay?”
Caught off guard, Nina whips her head around. Hicks enters her office without a second thought and she relaxes into the familiar routine.
“Twisted ankle. Which is what I get for chasing an Alpha in Manolos-”
“That’s not what I meant.”
(It’s moments like these Nina wonders if his alpha ability extends to some kind of soul staring gaze that makes any wall she’s built up crumble.)
“Rachel can’t keep a secret.”
“Rachel’s concerned. I’m concerned.”
With a forced laugh, Nina stands to grab her bag, eager for an escape.
“No one needs to be concerned. I’m fine. Always have been, always will.”
He grabs her wrist, holding her firmly in place.
“And waking up screaming is fine in your book?”
“Cameron…”
“If you’re in some kind of trouble…”
His words hang there; not quite a question, not quite a statement and she glances down, his hand a weight around her wrist.
Hicks expects rational.
She kisses him instead.
Nina likes his apartment. Sure, it’s not a loft in Soho, but it has its charms.
Like the three flights of stairs he manoeuvres them up, carrying her after the second. Like his couch; four paces from the door that she falls onto, positioning herself lengthwise while she slowly unzips her boots, watching him squirm. Like the metal rungs of his headboard, the way her hands curl around them and his hands curl around hers and with every thrust she meets his lips and steals her name right out of his mouth.
See? Utterly charming.
In her dreams, she’s in a showdown.
Marcus is covered in ash and she has blood on her hands and between them stands Rosen and in the distance lies Binghamton.
Marcus flips his coin. Rosen tells her to call it.
She wakes before the coin hits the ground. Nina’s always known the verdict.
With the right amount of coffee, he’s a morning person. The thought makes her wrinkle her nose in disgust.
But he’s cooked her breakfast and as she saunters into his kitchen, wearing his flannel shirt - buttoned strategically, of course - she can’t help but view this as endearing.
“All this for me?”
Hicks chuckles.
“I’ve seen what you eat at the office. Thought you could use a proper meal.”
“So you admit to ‘watching’ me?” Nina grins over the rim of her mug. Hicks shrugs coyly.
“Only because I know you’ve been watching me.”
Her silence is her admission and for a moment there are no games. He meets her eyes and she meets his and as he tucks the stray curls behind her ears she can’t help but think how easy it would be to make him do anything right now.
(Old habits die hard, or so it seems.)
She sneaks out while he’s in the shower. At her apartment, Rachel doesn’t say a word about her crumpled appearance, but judging by the slight wrinkle of her nose, she doesn’t need the younger girls ability to know that she smells of sweat and sex and perfume and him.
“Do we have to tape this?”
Nina drums her fingers along the side of the armchair. Rosen lets out an audible sigh.
“You know we do.”
“It’s been over six years, Doctor,” she stares to the side, “am I to assume you have hundreds of tapes of me hidden away somewhere?”
“Perhaps instead we should discuss why you’re still abusing your ability, despite the strict agency scrutiny?”
“What excuse should I give you this week?” Nina’s expression is one of exasperation. “That it’s about the thrill, that’s it’s a matter of control. Or that my father didn’t love me and I’m just trying to fill a giant void in my life. Or maybe it’s because the pay is crap and I have a lifestyle to maintain. Pick one, Doctor Rosen, any one so then we can end this session and you can help someone who actually has problems.”
“Your actions have consequences, Nina. You know this better than anyone.”
The tape’s still rolling as she slams the door.
Her room is cold. Linoleum floors and concrete walls painted a deceptively sunny shade of yellow; the blanket offers little in terms of warmth.
The orderlies avoid eye contact when they bring her meals. They all do.
Except Doctor Rosen.
She’s not dangerous, he pleads to various government agencies - the alpha phenomenon is new, so new that no one knows if this is a NSA or CIA or DoD issue.
It was an emotional over reaction. With regular therapy and monitoring she can lead a normal life. She’s not a criminal.
Six years later and the jury’s still out on that one.
The light from the street slips through the cracks of his curtains and it’s distracting. So is he; from the rhythmic beating of his heart to his short, quick breaths to his hand on her bare hip, fingers tracing indistinguishable patterns on his skin.
“Have you ever been there?” Hicks murmurs, “Binghamton?”
For a split second, she considers telling him all her secrets and truths and lies alike. Her stint at the facility, her boyfriend, the long dark corridors, the screams and the blank, empty faces.
But Nina Theroux has never been one to reveal her cards before it’s her turn to play.
She feigns sleep instead.
When she’s with him, she doesn’t wake up screaming.
The facts are these:
Nina knows what she wants, gets what she wants, consequences be damned.
The downside?
She doesn’t necessarily see it until it’s too late.