Set at the end of 4x03 "Set Up". Birkhoff and Nikita talk about their childhoods and their futures.

Birkhoff hadn't left his sectioned off corner of the plane since they had boarded. Nikita didn't blame him. He needed time to think and process what had just happened with his dad and the Double. But all that time alone with his thoughts wasn't good for him. He shouldn't sit there forever with dark clouds over his head and the weight of the world on his shoulders. He should talk once he was ready. So after a couple of hours, Nikita went to check on him in his nerd cave. He looked as though he had been crying, yet he had stopped by then. His thoughts were finally in order and he could finally share, "He was a son of a bitch, but he didn't deserve this."

Sitting next to Birkhoff, Nikita instantly wrapped her arms around him. It was the best way she knew how to comfort him. She should also say something, yet she didn't know what. She had never been the best at processing the kind of complex grief Birkhoff was feeling. Carla's and Caroline's death continued to torment her. She felt upset about losing the people she had cared about and even loved. But at the same time, they had hurt her greatly; a part of her didn't miss them. She knew Birkhoff felt the same about his dad. Except, she didn't know how to make the pain go away, "I know what you're feeling; I just don't know how to make it better for you."

Scooting closer to Nikita, Birkhoff just nodded. She didn't need to try so hard to comfort him. He would be alright with time. He would also be alright if he fought to be optimistic. Although Amanda had involved his father in her schemes, at least Birkhoff had finally gotten closure with him. He was able to talk to him as they hacked, and was able to express the things he had been sitting on for years. If it hadn't been for Nikita, then Birkhoff would've never had that opportunity. And for that, he was grateful, "Well, at least I got to talk to him. If you hadn't pushed me to send that message, I never would've had the chance."

"I wanted to keep my promise. I'm so sorry," Nikita squeezed Birkhoff tightly. She hadn't wanted anything to happen to Birkhoff's dad. Enough people had gotten hurt in that war- enough people her friends cared about had been hurt because of her. She hadn't wanted to add to that list. But the Double was going to kill Birkhoff. If Nikita hadn't shot him, he would've stabbed the hacker with the gardening tool he had picked up. She had to save her nerd, even though she had to break her promise in the process.

Again, Birkhoff nodded. He knew she had tried to keep her promise to keep his dad safe. He also knew that shooting the Double was the only way to save his life. Nikita had nothing to apologize for. Well, at least when it came to his father. For what she had done to the team three months ago, that was something she still had to atone for. Fortunately, Birkhoff had thought of a way she could do that, "You want to promise me something? Promise me you'll take your own advice. Stop running. What you run from, you run into."

"You never cease to amaze me, Nerd," Smiling softly, Nikita responded. If someone had told her years ago that Seymour Birkhoff- the annoying, nerdy, super hacker from Division- would be giving her emotional advice, she would've died from laughter. But there he was being her rock while the whole world turned to shit around her. Birkhoff had grown, matured, and changed so much in the past few years- more so than her. He was amazing. And she was so glad that he was her friend- her family.

Resting her head on Birkhoff's shoulder, Nikita continued to hold him tight. Birkhoff laid his head on hers and wrapped an arm around her. The two stayed like that for a brief moment, giving as much comfort as they could through touch. But soon, Nikita was on the move again. There were some calls she had to make; she had to check on Alex and Michael and thank Sam. She should also let Birkhoff call his girlfriend. Sonya, no doubt, would provide better comfort and care than Nikita ever could. Though, before she left the nerd cave, she could make one more promise, "This is not over."

Sonya called Birkhoff almost immediately after Nikita left. He spoke with his girlfriend for a long time, and she did a fantastic job of comforting him. She knew just the right things to say to help him breathe easily again. He felt so much better after hearing her voice. When they eventually had to part, he believed he could actually get some sleep that night. Before he could, though, Nikita was back in his area of the plane. She didn't seem to have had as good a phone call as he had. She was more worked up than she had been earlier, "I'm sorry about your dad. You were right. We shouldn't have involved him. I should've listened to you. I'm sorry."

"No. You're not to blame. Amanda involved him first," Birkhoff quickly shook his head. He didn't know where that guilt had come from. Maybe something had been said during her conversation with Michael and Alex that had struck a chord with her. Whatever it was though, she shouldn't start blaming herself for the things that had been done. Amanda was at fault for what happened to Ronald Peller; she was at fault for a lot of the problems in the rogues' war. Not Nikita. She always tried to do the right thing, and that right thing did help the team, "At least because of you I got to talk to him again."

Taking the seat next to Birkhoff again, Nikita didn't say anything for a moment. She hated that her friends' loved ones were constantly hurt because of her. She tried to protect everybody; she tried to save everybody. Yet she consistently failed. What kind of hero did that. Though, there was a chance that Ronald Peller wasn't dead. A death of a Double couldn't always mean the death of the original. Birkhoff could see his dad again if wanted to, "We don't know that Amanda killed him now that his double's gone. Maybe you can still see him again."

That was a possibility that Birkhoff had been considering, especially since Sonya had said the same thing. Just because the Double had been killed, didn't mean Ronald Peller had too. There was a chance that The Shop still had plans for him. He could still be rescued and returned home. And maybe Birkhoff could return home too. Though, even if he chose to do that, his family still wouldn't be complete. In the years that he had been gone, his mother had died. That was a fact he was continuously reeling from. He had only learned about it an hour before seeing his dad's double die, "Maybe. But not my mom. I didn't even know she had died."

"I'm sorry, Nerd. Really," Nikita continued to try her best to comfort Birkhoff. Though, she was surprised that he had never checked on his family after he had run away. She understood why he might not have while he was in Division. Contacting family meant death for them and anyone else you cared about. He had also probably wanted to keep his real identity a secret; the less Amanda knew about you, the less weapons she had to tear you down. But while he had been rogue, Birkhoff could've looked up his family- seen how they were doing. He really had cut all ties with them after faking his death. More must've gone on at home than he had shared.

"I should've been there for my family. I shouldn't have been so selfish and stupid," That was a thought that had been circling around Birkhoff's head for a minute. Once he had grieved the sudden news that his mother had died and coped with the fact that he had watched a man look just like his father die right in front of him (after he had tried to kill him) Birkhoff thought about what his siblings must've been feeling. They had never been close- the gap in their ages was too great. But all that death in their family must've gutted them. Birkhoff should've been there to help instead of thinking only of himself.

"You were a kid, a scared and hurt kid," Nikita absolved Birkhoff of his actions. She knew she wasn't the one who could do that, but it was still something he had to hear. Birkhoff shouldn't carry that guilt. He had done what he had needed to do when he had been fifteen. Yes, Nikita had been shocked when he had first told her about faking his death. But after hearing the explanation, Nikita agreed with it. A part of her also wished that she had thought to do the same when she had started to run away; maybe then, she wouldn't have constantly been returned to the Mears'. Birkhoff had only reacted out of fear and pain- something Nikita completely understood.

However, Birkhoff wouldn't accept Nikita's pardon. He was determined to keep carrying around the guilt of the things he couldn't control. That was something else that Nikita completely understood. However, she refused to let Birkhoff fall down the same paths she had. He had to forgive himself for what he had done as a scared and hurt kid. If he didn't, he'd end up just like Nikita. And absolutely nobody should be like her, "You know, my mom… my foster mom… she uh… she died shortly after my last runaway attempt."

"She did?" Birkhoff was more shocked that Nikita was opening about her past than he was about the fact she had shared. The most he knew about her childhood was from what he had gleaned from the file about her that was on the black box, and from the little sardonic comments she had made. She never told him anything about foster care; he was fairly certain that she hardly told Michael and Alex anything. Birkhoff honestly couldn't fault her for that. He understood not wanting to live through your past by telling stories. Which was why Nikita opening up to him was such a big deal. She really wanted to help him- show him that he wasn't alone.

"Yeah. She had been sick for some time, and it had gotten really bad… really, really bad… we moved, and I finally saw a way to escape. I could run for good. I didn't think I'd hurt her by running… I found out in Division that she had died shortly after," Eyes focused on the ground, Nikita elaborated. Amanda had told her about Caroline during one of their sessions. It had taken her a while to realize how fucked up that was. Amanda had really put her all into making Nikita emotionally dependent on Division. Nikita wished that the bitch's tactics hadn't worked. But sometimes, she still followed the advice shared in those sessions.

The psychological damage done to her in Division wasn't important at that moment, though. Nikita had to finish telling her story to Birkhoff so that he would know he wasn't alone. He should not feel any guilt in running away from that situation. Nor should he feel guilty about not being there when his mom had died. It wasn't on him to carry the emotional weight of his family, just like it wasn't on Nikita to be the caretaker in hers, "Maybe if I had stuck around, it wouldn't have been so bad for her. She took care of me after the worst of it. I could've done the same. But I ran when things got hard cause that is what I'm best at."

Birkhoff was already shaking his head before Nikita finished her story. Although the topic of her always running, especially from the team, was definitely a conversation they had to have, Nikita shouldn't have stayed in that foster home. She shouldn't have cared for her foster mother, and she shouldn't have taken on all those responsibilities and burdens. She had only been a kid. She should've been allowed to be happy and carefree, "Nikki, from the very few things I've heard about your past, you absolutely should've run."

"From what I've heard about yours, you should've too," Nikita finally got to her point. If Birkhoff didn't place all those negative things on her head, then he shouldn't place them on his own. He had escaped a terrible situation by running away from home. Sure, he had done so using extreme measures. But when hadn't Birkhoff been extreme. He didn't owe his father or his siblings anything. He definitely didn't owe them the emotional support they had never given him. He didn't have to be there for them after his mother had died. If anything, they should've been there for him as he was growing up.

"It was nowhere near as bad as yours," Birkhoff shook his head. When he had been fifteen, faking his death and running away from home had been the perfect idea. He could escape military school and pay his father back for what he had done to his pet tarantula, Lovecraft. But years later, he realized he had overreacted. That had not been the way to deal with things. Even if he had been neglected and was given some terrible punishments, he shouldn't have acted that way. After all, his childhood wasn't at all like Nikita's had been; he hadn't gone through hell and back every single day just for existing. If he had stuck around, things could've gotten better.

"Neglect and abuse is still neglect and abuse, B," Nikita comfortingly rubbed Birkhoff's arm. She always hated the belittling argument about not having it as bad as someone else. Yes, she often said it to herself when she was belittling her own feelings and experiences (something Michael had been helping her stop doing). But she couldn't stand it when someone she cared about dismissed their hardships and emotions. There was no level of badness. If things had been bad, then they were bad- full stop. Birkhoff had still suffered as a kid, no matter how it compared to someone else's past. He should heal from that just as Nikita should.

Birkhoff wasn't so sure if he'd agree with Nikita. Faking his death still wasn't the reaction he should've had to his childhood. Nikita, on the other hand, definitely should've. He guessed she technically had when she had gone rogue from Division. There were certainly some parallels between that hellhole and their fucked up home life. Maybe that was why Amanda and Percy had had such ease controlling and manipulating the agents. They hadn't known any better, "Is that why we got so brainwashed by Division? It was just like home?"

"Michael seems to think so," Nikita scoffed. She and Michael had had many conversations about Division and recruitment, especially when she had said that it had been the only home she had ever known. He had once made it his mission to teach her what a real home should've been like. But of course she had screwed that up. What she had said to Birkhoff earlier when she was trying to discover what he was hiding hadn't been a ploy. She really did believe she messed things up on purpose because she was terrified of the unknown. She couldn't learn better, which was something else Michael had mentioned, "He called it the cycle of abuse."

"Well, you broke it, Nikki," Birkhoff responded proudly. By going rogue, Nikita had proved that they were more than the abuse they had suffered. She was better than their orders; she was more than the person they forced her to be. She also showed the other agents that it was possible to break free. The rogues had learned it first; then the rest followed. They could take charge of their own fate. They could have a voice in their own lives. Everyone else tried to beat that out of them, but Nikita showed them it was possible to be free; it was possible to be happy.

"Not really. Not yet," Nikita debated. If she had truly broken the cycle of abuse, then the war the rogues were forever stuck in never would've happened. Alex wouldn't have been recruited; Ryan wouldn't have gone to jail; Birkhoff wouldn't have been tortured; Sonya wouldn't have been used; Michael wouldn't have lost his hand; Owen wouldn't have been lost; and Sean wouldn't have died. Nikita going rogue from Division hadn't stopped the pain or fear. She had just perpetuated it in new ways.

A part of Birkhoff wanted to continue arguing his point; however, he knew Nikita was right. As long as the war raged on, the cycle continued. The only way to end all that pain and fear was to finally stop Amanda and destroy The Shop. They were close to doing so. At least, they hoped they were close. But once things did end, where did the rogues go. They had no home. The ones they had known were long gone. They couldn't just pick up the pieces and go back. They were too far removed from their pasts to ever go back. Their futures were completely uncharted. Nikita was right to think that was terrifying, "We have no home to run to."

"That's why we make our own. Or at least we try," Nikita attempted to be positive. The rogues could make their own futures, and they could make them as bright as possible. Though, it might not always work out. She had tried to build a future and a home with Michael, and she had blown it. She had hurt him so badly by running away that she didn't think she could ever fix it. The war would end, but she wouldn't have Michael back. She had broken his heart beyond her repair. And she was going to have to live with those consequences even after the team got their so-called happily ever after, "But sometimes, we're never there for the people who need us."

"You're always there for me," Nudging Nikita, Birkhoff smiled softly. Despite the fact that the two consistently annoyed one another, picked on one another, teased one another, and even bullied one another, no one had Birkhoff's back like Nikita (except, of course, Sonya). Whenever he needed support and comfort, Nikita was there for him with a hug and a head on his shoulder. Even after he had shot Carla, she had still done everything she could to make him feel better. Birkhoff always had Nikita to rely on. She was always there.

"And you're never selfish when I need you most. Stupid, maybe," Copying Birkhoff's grin, Nikita nudged him in return. He scoffed. As sarcastic and taunting and egotistical as Birkhoff could be, he was also sweet and kind and caring. When Nikita absolutely needed him to be serious, he was. He had had her back just as many times as she had had his. He wasn't just her nerd or her friend, he was her brother. And no matter what happened in that war, she never wanted that to change, "Let's keep being the family we never had."

"Deal," Birkhoff held out his pinky finger. Chuckling, Nikita hooked her pinky with his. They squeezed each other's fingers tightly, taunted one another with a goofy expression, then roughly pulled their pinkies apart. The two instantly collapsed in laughter that seemed utterly ridiculous considering their current situation. Yet it felt so good to just be encased in joy. For a moment, there was no grief, no pain, no fear; it was just two best friends- two siblings- doing all they could to see the other smile. And maybe that was how they built their new homes. Forget their past, and even their future, just focus on being happy with each other in the present.