Was it okay to think that everything she ever wanted felt strange. Granted, they were trying to hunt down and stop a member of their own team from selling them out. Yet Pj's mom and dad were with her. Her brother got to meet their dad for real that time, and had his mom by his side. Everyone was with their family again. However, they knew their parents didn't want them there. They weren't angry with their children, just the situation. They shouldn't have been on a dangerous mission against the Shop. That was the reason they had all left, after all. Their frustrations were palpable. It clouded their reunion.
Not enough to ruin their hugs or smiles, but definitely enough to make their plans rushed and reckless. Pj wanted to say something to lighten the tension. They were searching the junkyard at the moment, she could make a joke. Max appeared to be able to tell she was going to tease; he shot her a look to quiet her. It didn't work, but she was silent anyway. What could she have said. How did people just fall back into normal. It was awkward and strange, and it honestly made her feel anxious. There seemed to be a wall built between her and her parents. They were together in the same place, but they weren't- well- together.
It didn't help that Cassandra was part of their 'A team'. Pj had nothing against her; she simply didn't know her. All she had to go off of were Max's stories. That wasn't much. So the five of them- Ovechkins and Mears-Bishops- were left stalking through the yard in complete silence. The Pierce family wasn't fairing any better. They were also strangely quiet. All that could be heard from the Birkhoffs was typing, yet who knew if that was them talking or hacking. Maybe they could blame it all on the mission. Everyone was stressed and exhausted. Once they completed the op, they'd be able to talk.
Except, Pj still had to debrief with her team about the months she was rogue. They had to discuss everything they had found and done. It was possible they could involve their parents in that. Sharing intel, resources, and all of that was incredibly important. That was basically the first step in combining forces. Pj felt strung out, though. She didn't think she'd have the energy to go over everything. She hadn't slept since before her fights at that underground ring. She should've, but the images of torturing the manager tortured her. Wait. Had it only been a day. Had so much shit happened in just two nights. The realization made her want to scream. She barely processed anything that had occurred. How was she even supposed to.
Normal people didn't have to deal with what she had to. She could've had that life, should've had that life. Instead she was fighting a war her mother had started years before she was even born. It could've been seen as tragic; the sins of the mother reflected on the innocent child. It was just frustrating. Pj wanted so badly to scream, let it all out. But that wouldn't solve anything. Taking down the Shop might. After all, that was the dream. They end the war and everything would be perfect- normal.
Pj couldn't afford to think about it. Her adrenaline keeping her awake could only get her as far as the op. They had to find Owen- Sam- whatever the fuck his name was. What the hell had even happened. Her parents didn't tell her much, there was no time. All she knew was Ryan had joined them at their safehouse and Owen had turned against them. That partially explained why Ryan and Owen had been radio silent since their last mission. The rest of the story must have been tied to the whole 'Sam' thing. Something went down on that mission of theirs. What exactly terrified her. How badly could an op have gone if a member of their family decided to sell their secrets. Was the Shop capable of horrors she couldn't even imagine.
That had to have been the case. Owen wasn't himself- obviously if he was going by the name Sam Matthews. Their enemies were controlling him, somehow. Pj wouldn't accept any other explanation. The man who trained her and cared for her wouldn't simply turn tail and run. He looked after the kids while the others were away. That kind of sacrifice had to have meant something. He was their family, he couldn't sell their information. It was unthinkable. It was impossible. It had to be the Shop's fault. The organization had already taken so much from the family, what was one more tragedy.
Although the Mears-Bishops and Ovechkins were supposed to be watching for their opponents, Pj kept glancing over at Michael and Nikita. She was somewhat afraid to lose them again, that the second her eyes left them they would disappear. She knew that wasn't going to happen, not if her parents could help it; they were beyond determined to keep their family together forever. She mostly kept staring at her mom and dad to settle herself. While she was emotionally frayed, they remained strong and steady. She didn't know how they did it- how could they compartmentalize like that. It was probably something they had trained themselves to do to survive the day. Pj would've loved to develop that skill immediately.
She knew she was unfit for the mission. Her lack of sleep should've kept her at the safehouse with Felicity and Missy. She was also so drastically emotionally compromised she couldn't think straight. Pj had to remind herself that they all were. All of their thoughts and feelings had been through the wringer that night. What a bunch of spies they were. What was it that she had heard once: check your feelings at the door or check out. The team really had failed at that hadn't they. They were an emotional mess. One could argue having such feelings got them that far in the crusade. But another could argue that was why it lasted for so goddamn long. It was almost as though they couldn't do anything right. Wins were always balanced out by losses. Where was the end in sight they kept desperately searching for.
A deep breath didn't do anything for Pj. She clutched her gun even tighter, and tensed her shoulders for a fight. Noticing her stress, her dad shifted closer to ease her. She was surprised that his presence worked. Her grip loosened and her breath came steadier. Even after ten years Michael could calm his daughter instantly; it really was his gift when it came to the Mears women. Pj smiled softly. She remembered having pretty awful nightmares as a kid. And every single time she bolted awake and tearfully ran to her parents' room, her dad was there to comfort her. He never griped about it; he simply held her and talked to her. When she started to fall back asleep, he'd move to return her to her bed. But then her mom would pull them back, and she spent the night securely in their arms.
It wasn't often. Yet it was enough times that when her parents were gone, she was sorely affected (in more ways than one). Pj had more or less learned how to deal with her nightmares on her own. She thought she had learned how to deal with everything on her own. However, it never worked as well. She had the other kids, at least. And she had her brother. They supported one another. They weren't as alone as they felt, especially at night when the nightmares became too much. Since they started to follow in their parents' footsteps, the bad dreams only increased. Pj was sure that wasn't going to go away. Their crusade had an everlasting effect.
Fresh images of torturing the fighting ring manager invaded her mind, as her thoughts jumped from one topic to the next. Exhaustion was going to drag her down to sleep that night, she knew it. But she also knew it wasn't going to be peaceful. Pj had done a lot of things that haunted her, yet the manager was different. She became someone else in that backroom; someone she never wanted to be again. However, she wasn't sure if she could keep herself under control. There was a darkness inside her, one she inherited from her mother. It couldn't have been true; Owen was confused when he had mentioned it to Ryan. Deep down, she knew he was right though.
Pj wanted her enemies to burn. Every last one of them needed to feel her wrath and suffer indescribable pain. She had inflicted as much, with torture and death. The Shop had to know how furious she was that they took her family from her. They were going to face vengeance and destruction in every form. She tried not to feel that strongly. Her team found more constructive ways to face their opponents. She attempted to follow them, but she was never any good at following orders. She was consumed by the hatred she felt for the Shop. How could she have fought through that.
Her mom could've held the answers. Nikita seemed to be able to soldier on past her pain. However, one glance at her changed Pj's mind. That atrocious pig mask was covering her features once again. All of their parents were wearing masks to hide themselves; the pig mask was the stand out, making Nikita the bait to follow. Her daughter understood the need to hide from the Shop. That was why they had codenames and wore dark clothing and baseball caps out in the field. Yet the pig mask idea was reckless. She was going to get hurt playing bait.
Nikita didn't appear to have been concerned about that. She was becoming desperate, willing to do absolutely anything to end that fucking war and go home. The burned and horrifying rubber pig mask almost exemplified that. It had been abandoned and nearly destroyed, yet it survived. Despite everything, it was going to be at the end of the crusade- just as it was at the beginning. Pj had been terrified about what the Shop did to Owen to make him Sam, yet she should've been more afraid of what her mom was going to do to Sam for his betrayal. Mostly because she was certain she was going to do the same.
It only took a couple of minutes for the Pierces to find the potential information buyer. And it didn't take the Mears-Bishops and Ovechkins much longer to find Owen. They backed him into a corner, guns raised and positioned so he had no escape. He didn't seem bothered. It was as though he were expecting the situation. He did flinch when Nikita and that damned pig mask approached him. But he cast his eyes to someone else to remain stoic. Unfortunately, he focused on Pj. One glance at her, and he became apologetic. Facing his masked former team was one thing, but facing the kids hurt him. Pj considered that a good thing. He should feel ashamed.
The plan was to interrogate the assholes on sight. Transferring them held more cons than pros. Besides with the Birkhoffs combined efforts, their jamming field should hold airtight. It was time to get answers for everything. Pj could start to relax and her raging thoughts could finally calm. She hoped that would be the case anyway. Everything she ever wanted continued to feel strange to her. It really was going to get worse before it got better. Things just had to get better soon.