"Psst, Nerd. I wasn't paying attention. Why are we here?" Nikita whispered in Birkhoff's ear as they walked into Ops. She knew she should've listened to the phone call she received, but in her defense it was three o'clock in the morning. She was barely awake. The fact that she even made it into the bunker in actual clothing was a feat unto itself. However, the frantic activity in Ops snapped her into alertness. Some kind of emergency or disaster was occurring. The current major operation must've gone to shit.
"Something about a blown mission? I don't know," Shrugging, Birkhoff admitted. He was in the same puzzled boat as Nikita. It was way too late, early, whatever for any information. He also didn't want to be in Division if he didn't have to. His time at his apartment was a great reprieve from the constant bombardment of stress. To be thrown into craziness unaware was just an extreme level of anxiety he despised.
"Where's Michael when you need him?" Quickly Nikita muttered before entering into the fray. Birkhoff chuckled and followed. Whenever the two were up to their antics or not paying attention as much as they should, Michael covered for them. Unfortunately, he wasn't in Ops. it was a bit strange considering Amanda, Percy, and more techs and agents that have ever been in Ops before were present. Maybe he was doing something else important that they were unaware of. Although he knew everything Birkhoff and Nikita did, they didn't know much about his Division duties or off time.
"Birkhoff, I need you on satellites now. Nikita, lead our agents out of there," Amanda's command didn't help orient the two. They stared blankly for half a second. They were called in on a mission they weren't involved in; that didn't make sense. Yet Amanda's expression left no room for questions. Birkhoff plopped into his chair, instantly hacking away, and Nikita grabbed a com. She didn't waste any time catching herself up. She'd love the full information, but she doubted she'd get it. She didn't even receive every bit of intel for operations she worked on. Division just had to control everything and everyone in every way they could.
That shouldn't have been her concern at the moment, however. She had some kind of mission to complete. Birkhoff secured her the satellites while techs and agents worked damage control around them. Nikita had the sickening feeling that the dramatics had nothing to do with the major operation, but how horribly it went wrong. To be fair, she never spent much time in Ops. She didn't know of the chaos that occurred behind the scenes whenever she was out in the field. But she suspected that time was different. Both Percy and Amanda were involved, after all.
Although she desperately wanted to, Nikita couldn't ask questions- she shouldn't ask questions. The best way to survive in Division was to keep your head down and do as your told. Whereas Birkhoff was excellent at that, she struggled to just shut up and operate. Usually she had Michael there to back her up or sate her curiosity, but he was still missing. There was no one to stop her from blurting out as shit continued to spiral out of control, "What happened? Who was running point?"
At first, all she received in response were stares. She should've remained quiet. There was a firefight she had to lead agents out of (though, why her and not any other agent continued to bewilder her) and potentially life threatening intel that had to make its way back to Division. What had gone wrong and who was supposed to be in charge wasn't important anymore. All that mattered was escaping a warzone with vital information. At least to the people in Ops that was the only importance. Nikita needed more. She always needed more than what Division fed her.
"Michael. He made a sacrificial run at the intel and now he's gone. You're our last hope of securing the information. This country depends on it," After a moment, Percy decided to tell Nikita the truth. Or, really, his version of the truth. Silence snapped through Ops- even Birkhoff's aggressive typing stilled. Apparently, not everyone knew why they were there. They simply narrowed in on their individual tasks, unwilling to ask why they had to impede other agencies and mitigate an active warzone. Since they knew, however, shockwaves washed over them.
Nikita felt the biggest shocks. The ground shook underneath her, and she pitched forward, clinging to the back of Birkhoff's chair. She couldn't breathe. She actually couldn't breathe. Air wouldn't fill her lungs no matter how hard she tried. Michael was gone. Her eyes stung and the pit of her stomach dropped. Her focal point in that godforsaken place was gone. It didn't seem right. Her ears rang. Maybe 'gone' meant missing in action. That happened sometimes. Her vision blurred. He hadn't disappeared from her life, just that mission. The world seemed to stop spinning. She could find him. She'd complete the op and she'd find him.
As Nikita pushed forward with a renewed drive, calling orders and bringing the agents in the field to attention, Birkhoff slumped at his workstation. Despite his mind stopping in its tracks, his fingers moved slowly across the keyboard. Other agents, including Amanda, were just as slow and halting to get back to work. Nikita's near desperation and insanity in her shouts were bringing people out of the fog, though, giving them some sort of twisted focus to get it in gear. But it didn't work on Birkhoff. He was too focused on the word 'gone'. Michael was gone. That was it, no more. He wouldn't come back.
The other agents in the field would, however. The reason Nikita was called in was the reason the rest of them made it out alive. She saw paths out of complicated situations no one else did. She knew ways to survive that others didn't even realize. No other agent was gone. Some were injured, and a few might not live through the journey home. Yet they weren't gone. Which meant resources could be spent on finding Michael.
Birkhoff wasn't certain what possessed him to follow Nikita's request. The intel was secure, meaning Amanda could pull Percy aside to talk to him in private. The enemy combatants weren't a problem anymore, so agents could abandon their task and head home. And other agencies had been misdirected; the techs could leave. Nikita and Birkhoff were the only two remaining still in the thinning crowd. She couldn't understand why they were leaving. They had to find Michael. Fuck the rules that stated they had to leave a man behind. Michael was worth the risk. He was always worth it.
Yet, when Birkhoff pulled up the information on Michael's tracker, time stopped. He shouldn't have done it. He knew what the result would be. He should've told Nikita instead of following her order. Except, a part of him wanted her to be right. He desperately wanted it all to be a dream, and Michael was actually missing, not dead. The hacker never got what he wanted, though. And neither did Nikita. The tracker was offline. It was near where the others were, but it was offline. That only meant one thing. There was no saving Michael.
Somehow, Nikita stumbled after Birkhoff into an area of Division he had claimed as his own. He led her away from Ops, needing to be somewhere else, and she could only hopelessly follow. The room held a couch, a TV, and many computer servers. However, neither paid attention to that. The hacker was worked up, pacing back and forth with an energy he couldn't pinpoint. And the agent stood there, frozen solid. She had seen the truth. She had heard the fact. But nothing would process. Why wouldn't it process. Everything just felt numb and cold.
"'This country depends on it'. God, Percy is so full of it. He lost an agent and all he cares about is the damn intel. What would've happened if we didn't succeed? Would he be able to rationalize death then? I bet he could talk out of his ass all day long," Birkhoff's ranting eventually broke Nikita out of her spell. He was stomping, and raving, and mad. Ferocity fueled him, quelling the shock that had filled his veins. She, on the other hand, felt sick. Bile filled her throat and choked her words. In fact, bile coursed through her entire being. She was going to burst from it- explode in the worst possible way.
"Michael's dead, Birkhoff! Don't you get it? No one cares about us anymore," Nikita snapped. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't stop the scream, or the collapse on the couch, or the tears that finally fell from her eyes. She hadn't wanted to admit it. She never wanted to admit it. But it was so undoubtedly true, all she could do was accept the defeat it brought. Michael was dead. She couldn't save him. No one could save him.
"I care," Softly, barely above a whisper, Birkhoff confessed. It was of no use, however. Nikita curled in on herself, tears quietly falling down her paled cheeks. The fact that she had held herself together that long surprised her. She thought she would've broken much sooner; though, denial did stave off the melt down. Birkhoff had processed the grief far more quickly, yet his own tears were beginning to form. It was all just too much. Sure Division agents died all the time. Yet that was different. Michael was their friend. He had saved them, but they couldn't save him. Unfortunately, Division wasn't the place to mourn, "Nikki. If Amanda sees you crying…"
"She'll do what? What will she do? She can't lose two of her stars in one day," Violently springing to her feet, Nikita shrieked. She was so sick and tired of everything around her. Why couldn't she demand information (she still didn't know what the intel was that Michael died for). Why couldn't she fight to save someone. Why couldn't she save a thirteen year old girl and her handler. Why couldn't she be human and grieve the loss of her friend. She was Division's rising star, after all. Shouldn't she be given more freedom.
"I think he was my best friend," It was the first thing on Birkhoff's mind. He couldn't reply to anything Nikita said. He could only be overwhelmed by the same sadness. It was the only thing circling for a while after Percy told them what had happened. Michael had been the closest thing to a best friend the hacker had ever had. With him gone, he didn't know what he was going to do. Division would be harder to survive, that was for sure. And a part of him would forever feel empty.
Sinking onto the couch, Birkhoff let his tears overcome him. Nikita was right, what would Amanda do if they cried- try to kill the last remaining bit of human left in them. They couldn't all be as emotionless or self-aggrandizing as Percy. Only he could rationalize death to serve the country. The rest of them were left shattered. Nikita tried to fill the emptiness of her cracked heart with anger. It was a sudden and quick decision. But that was all she had left to feel. She kicked the nearest trashcan across the room and screamed her emotions, "That dumb, stupid son of a bitch!"
Whereas Nikita continued to rage, sobbing and kicking, Birkhoff cried on the couch. God, they were a mess. But how else were they to deal with Michael's death. He was their grounding force. He reigned the two in when they were crazy or too much. They were left stranded, unable to adjust to his loss. Several hours passed before either were remotely okay with returning to their apartments. That was the only option left for them, anyway. They couldn't stay in Division, not any longer. Their pain would eat them alive if they did.
"Nikita," Amanda instantly called as she spotted Nikita leaving the nerd cave. The young agent didn't bother trying to hide her tear stained face or her reddened eyes. She turned towards Amanda, silently daring her to say something. Instead, she laid a gentle hand to Nikita's cheek and swept away the tears. She nearly cracked all over again at the soft affection. It was nothing more than a caring touch, but it was enough to push her over the edge. She had to bite her lip to not fall apart and to listen to her advisor's words, "Take the next few days for yourself. Go on a vacation. Sleep. Do whatever you want. You deserve a break."
Managing a nod and a very grateful thanks, Nikita left to escape to her apartment. There she remained for days, alternating between staring blankly at a wall and holding back tears. She had to get herself together. Yes, Michael was dead and it was gut wrenching. But it wasn't life destroying. It shouldn't have been life destroying. Except, it felt that way. She couldn't understand why. Why did it all hurt so much. A friend's death wasn't that painful. Or was it. Was opening her heart to someone really that detrimental. She believed it was. She felt as though a part of herself faded away with Michael.
Her break from Division only lasted those few days. She was ordered into Ops for yet another emergency soon. Instead of franticness, however, there was only lividity. Nikita and Birkhoff glanced at one another warily. The sudden call wasn't about a blown mission that time. It was something worse- if there could be something worse. The fact that Percy appeared so pale and Amanda looked so concerned said there was. No quips were voiced by the nerd or agent.
They didn't even dare to speak once they noticed what was on the board. Michael's picture and information was plastered everywhere. But his status didn't say 'deceased'. It said he was alive and dangerous, "This is top priority. One of our own has gone rogue, and we need to clean up the mess. Who knows the kind of secrets he'll sell or destruction he'll cause. Michael Bishop is Division's number one enemy. You see him, you kill him. No questions. We cannot afford to have this kind of a rogue element."
Percy's infuriated voice left no room for questions or arguments. Birkhoff and the other agents and techs gathered could only nod. However, Nikita had a million things to say and scream. A warning look from Amanda helped her hold her tongue, yet she still wouldn't believe what was right in front of her. How could Michael be alive and rogue. He was dead. She had done her best to process that fact. But in reality he was alive and trying to destroy Division. That didn't make sense. How could it be real.
He left her. It was more than that- Nikita knew it was more than that. But Michael was gone. He promised to keep her safe. It was years ago, yet he swore nothing would happen to her while he was around. What would happen with him gone. Percy was already on a warpath for anyone close to Michael that might be working with him. And Amanda seemed to be pulling away, lost in thought and shock. Where did that leave Nikita and Birkhoff. Were they left to the wolves, alone and unable to protect themselves with their smart mouths. Alone and unable to survive because they wouldn't follow the kill order against their friend, despite his rogue status.
A part of Nikita really did disappear with Michael's absence. It was the part that made her feel safe.