The stress was going to kill her. It wasn't going to kill her exactly; it was going to kill the fetus developing inside her. That was what the doctor had claimed. Her stress levels were too high. Her blood pressure was too threatening. The pregnancy was a risk anyway. There was a high chance of miscarriage due to many reasons. The fetus wasn't developing correctly. Miscarriage was a common occurrence. The cell division and growth process simply went wrong at no fault of the mother. It all came down to chromosome errors that the mother couldn't control. If a miscarriage happened, it wouldn't be her fault. The fetus was to blame.
Her bleeding didn't necessarily mean a miscarriage was on the way. Many mothers bled or spotted in the first trimester and still had a successful pregnancy. Her past addiction and the havoc it wreaked on her body didn't help, however. Nor did her unknown family medical history- like what exactly caused her mother to die in childbirth. But the most prevalent issue was her stress. She had to get it under control. A healthy mother meant a healthy baby. The terrible situation could be resolved.
Managing her stress wouldn't fix everything, however. Soft, caring, gentle, and experienced, her doctor advised her to at least try. But there was still a chance of a miscarriage. She couldn't control how the fetus developed. It wasn't her fault. She could do everything she could to prevent it. She could help the development by being as healthy as possible. Yet it wasn't a guarantee. She could still lose everything. She was already on her way there. It'd be a miracle if she could stop it. Even if she couldn't, it wouldn't be her fault.
Despite the doctor's constant reassurance that a miscarriage wouldn't have been her fault and his hope that one wouldn't even occur, Nikita left her appointment heartbroken. The only thought racing through her mind was that she should've taken her husband and found a home. Maybe then, she wouldn't have been so stressed. The life of her unborn baby wouldn't have been threatened. The two would've had their chance at happiness and normality. By staying, she had ruined that. She was actively taking Michael's happiness and views of their future away. Why did she have to always keep fighting.
Arms wrapped tightly around her lower abdomen, Nikita slowly walked home. She didn't want to trudge all the way to Division, her source of stress. She had promised Michael she'd join him in the bunker, but she just couldn't do it. He had broken his promise to her anyway. He had planned to join her at the doctor's, yet Ryan called him in for something important. Nikita was left to face the news alone. She still had to tell her husband about it, though. She just couldn't bring herself to do it until her thoughts were in order.
A part of Nikita wanted to collapse and scream and cry and unleash the pain in her heart. The more rational part of her, however, told her to keep walking. She hadn't lost the baby yet. The high chance of miscarriage didn't mean it was bound to happen. Except, Nikita couldn't shake how wrong she felt. Something horrific was coming. If it wasn't a miscarriage, then it'd be Amanda. The threat she placed on Nikita's family was crushing. She could feel it following her as she walked. In fact, she had had the feeling that someone had been following her for days. The further she walked that morning, the stronger it felt. Until, finally, a hand landed on her shoulder.
"Nikki…" The person who had grabbed Nikita barely had a chance to speak. As soon as his hand landed on her shoulder, she took the strap of her purse and lassoed it behind her. The improvised weapon trapped her assailant by the neck. She twisted until she was behind him instead, then she tugged. He began to choke. It wasn't until the person tapped on her arm that she realized who it was. Birkhoff was gasping and spluttering against her purse strap. Instantly, Nikita let him go. He staggered away from her, attempting to catch his breath through hoarse coughs. He glared at her purse and wheezed, "Jesus. When aren't you armed?"
"Birkhoff? What are you doing?" Righting her purse and reaching for Birkhoff, Nikita asked. Although she did feel awful for choking him, he did have it coming. If he had wanted to speak to her so badly, he should've texted or called. Following her as she cut through an alley wasn't the smartest move. He had to have known that she'd attack. He must've been sitting on something important- far more important Division, or else that'd be where'd they talked. Whatever it was, Nikita just needed Birkhoff to tell her. She had enough stress and suspense.
"You said you were being followed. Just wanted to make sure that wasn't true," Continuing to clear his throat, Birkhoff explained his reasoning. He had to speak with Nikita in private. He finally convinced Sonya that telling the team was a good thing; she didn't need to fear getting hurt. But with Ryan and Michael handling some damage control with the President (and a recent nightmare involving the former rogue), Birkhoff decided to inform Nikita first. He couldn't tell her in Division. So, he had to ensure she was alone outside. Maybe he should've called. Yet he had a feeling that even their burner phones weren't secure.
"By following me?" Nikita bit. She seriously wasn't in the mood for all the spy games. Birkhoff should've just talked to her. Why couldn't he just talk. Amanda was throwing Division through mind games and horrific situations every two seconds. The Dirty Thirty had them in a stressful chokehold. The President wasn't the salvation they needed. The team couldn't be holding things from one another. They couldn't contribute to what their enemies were doing. Nikita wasn't the best person to be voicing that frustration when she was one of the people supplying to it. Yet she didn't care. She just wanted Birkhoff to talk and make her not think.
Birkhoff studied Nikita. She didn't look okay. Not only was it entirely too easy for him to follow her, she also held herself so tightly. Her shoulders were hunched, her palms pressed into her abdomen, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. Birkhoff had caught her leaving a medical clinic. Judging by her appearance, she didn't hear any good news. Concerned, he tried to step closer to her, comfort her. She drew away. He somewhat understood why. He had followed her for a reason other than her wellbeing. She wanted to focus on that. However, he was still worried. Nikita didn't look alright, "Is everything okay?"
"What do you want?" Straightening herself and finally dropping her arms, Nikita ignored the question. She could've easily broken down right there and told Birkhoff everything that was wrong. But what could he do to help. Besides, her husband should hear the world shattering, tearful rant first. She should've told him already. The longer she waited, the worse it would become. She just couldn't bring herself to tell him. She'd much rather distract herself with whatever Birkhoff wanted. It must've been serious if he had stalked her.
"I know who the mole is. But you have to understand, she didn't want to do it. Amanda turned her killchip back on and had someone watch her. She was forced to spy on us. But she wants to change that. She wants to help us," After taking as deep of a breath as he could, Birkhoff unloaded everything Sonya had told him. He kept his voice low yet his words clear. Nikita needed to completely understand. The mole situation wasn't as it seemed. The team couldn't just rush in and cause damage. They had to handle it so gently and so carefully.
"Who?" Nikita stalked even closer to Birkhoff. She was concerned about what he had shared. She didn't like the idea of a reactivated killchip, or the thought that there was another mole threatening Division. She wanted to rescue whoever was in danger and tear apart Amanda and her cronies. However, the nerd withholding the endangered agent's identity pissed her off. Nikita didn't have time for games. The team had to start moving against their enemies immediately. Maybe if they did, everything would be fixed.
"Sonya," Birkhoff finally admitted, his breath coming in short once again. He trusted Nikita with the information- he really did. But he couldn't fight the idea that uttering her name put her in danger. The killchip was going to be activated, and Sonya would be gone forever. He couldn't allow that to happen. Thankfully, so couldn't Nikita. Once she had all the information, she dragged the nerd with her to Division. The whole team needed to know what was occurring. They had to start fixing that problem and ignore others.
The latter was mostly Nikita's goals. When she entered Division, she ignored the different topics Michael, Ryan, and Alex wanted to discuss. She forced them to gather in Ryan's office, and she made Birkhoff tell them about Sonya. The team was instantly ready to leap into action. They brainstormed ideas of what to do, then they had Sonya join them. She was beyond nervous to do so. She trusted the team of former rogues, but not that much. What if something happened while she talked. Her safety wasn't guaranteed. Ryan's procedure to ensure they weren't suspicious could only go so far, "Pretend you're giving us an update on a Dirty Thirty."
Stammering, Sonya studied the team. She found support, yet she couldn't find the peace of mind she was searching for. She was going to die at any minute. One second she'd be standing there, the next she'd be dead. She was certain of it. Birkhoff, however, wasn't. He had promised her that he'd keep her safe. The determination in his eyes couldn't be mistaken. He'd make sure she stayed alive if it was the last thing he did. Tension began to lift from Sonya's shoulders. Breathing deeply, she found the strength to speak, "Amanda requires an update every two hours. She doesn't always ask me for mission intel. Most of the time, she asks for gossip on the team."
Sonya's and Nikita's eyes met across the room. There was so much fear in the former rogue's. Anger too. But the fear was overwhelming. The hacker caught it instantly, doing her best to smother it. She shook her head ever so slightly. What Nikita was terrified about wasn't shared. Amanda never asked, and Sonya played dumb. The pregnancy was never announced aloud, after all. Sure, it was easy to guess based on the married couple's interactions and Nikita's constant dashes to the bathroom. But there was still plausible deniability. The former rogue released a strangled breath and made herself refocus, "So she gives you assignments?"
"In the form of embedded pictures, yes. She wants any information she could use to destroy you," Sonya did her best to explain the process thoroughly. The more information the team had, the better the chance she had at surviving. Each new word she shared continued to frighten her. She was waiting for any of it to be her last. But she forced herself to just keep talking. She had to believe that everything would work out. She also had to be stronger than her fear. Amanda couldn't continue to control everything about her.
"Any new pictures?" Although he asked Sonya, Michael's gaze was glued to his wife. She wasn't standing near him; she wasn't standing near anybody. She was drawn in on herself, eyes glazed over like she was lost in thought. It had become more obvious that the two weren't the greatest at hiding the pregnancy. Their friends had figured it out easily. No doubt other agents clued in as well. Sonya probably guessed the fact, or had the suspicion of it, and more than likely shared it with Amanda. If the bitch knew, there was no telling the amount of horrors she'd perform. Nikita was already in danger of her wrath. Things were about to unravel.
"I should be getting one soon," Sonya nodded. Her body continued to shake with terrified tremors; however, talking with the team managed to abate some of her fears. Things seemed to be able to be fixed as she discussed them. She had been discovered as the mole, which meant the other mole could be found too. Her killchip had been dismantled once before, they could do it more permanently that time. And with all their conviction and anger, Amanda could be stopped. It wouldn't be easy, yet it wasn't impossible. They just needed a course of action.
"So then we just use that against Amanda," Alex believed she had a plan. Since they knew who the mole was, the team could work with their original idea to use them against the bitch. Obviously with the killchip and the second mole, things had to be changed. They also were operating without Sean and Owen (though, Owen probably should continue to stay away from Amanda after what she did to him). There was a lot they had to think about, and in a short amount of time. Yet the idea could still work. It had to.
"What about the killchip?" Whereas Sonya considered the idea, Birkhoff argued. He didn't want to risk her life with any dangerous plans. Dealing with Amanda wasn't like dealing with the other Dirty Thirties. The team had learned that lesson time and time again. Their best and craziest schemes were no match. Amanda consistently found a way to beat them. Alex's follow up suggestion of just turning the killchip back off wasn't viable. Amanda would've thought of that. She was expecting something like that. The team couldn't do anything that'd surprise her, "What about the other mole? Amanda can just turn the chip on again and kill her."
"Then we take the chip out completely. We find the other mole. We use the intel they're feeding Amanda to trick her. Then we kill her," Nikita finally voiced her thoughts. She fidgeted with her wedding ring, and she wouldn't look anyone in the eye. However, her voice was strong. She was convinced the plan would work in some capacity. If Amanda expected something from them, then they should turn that expectation against her. They should give her everything she wanted, then rip the rug out from underneath her. It was about time the team used the mind games she played with them against her.
Alex, Ryan, and Michael were all for the idea. Once it was flushed out completely, they could run with it. Birkhoff remained on the fence. He wanted Amanda dead, but not at the expense of Sonya's life. It ultimately wasn't his decision to make, however. Sonya had to decide if the plan was worth risking her life. After a brief moment of thought, she knew that it was. The bitch should suffer for all the pain she had caused Division. She couldn't be allowed to keep exerting her control. She had to die, "I'm in. Let's do this. Let's kill the bitch."
"I knew I always liked you," Nikita cracked a small smile. Her gaze, though, cast to her husband against her will. The way he looked at her made her wrap her arms tightly around her lower abdomen again. He knew something was wrong. He knew the situation wasn't as optimistic as she was pretending it to be. She had to tell him. She had to pull him aside and tell him that a miscarriage was potentially on the horizon. Except, she couldn't steal that hope from him. He should hold to the idea of a family while they faced Amanda's wrath. It could be the thing that saw them through, even if it might not come true.