Nikita nodded. She understood the simultaneous regret at hurting those who didn't deserve it and the knowledge that sometimes there wasn't a choice.

"I am," she confirmed. "Putting it all behind me, best I can. Which sometimes isn't that far, but you do what you can."

She couldn't stop the automatic judgment of everyone's threat level, nor would she ever be a warm, open, trusting person, but she was working on it. She was always armed, but she never wanted to draw. It was an important distinction, at least in her mind.