Work Text:
“No!”
…
“I’m fine Harold, I’m just fine. Keep your eyes out I need to drive.”
…
“Root we have to stop. We’re not in any immediate danger…”
…
“Put the weapon down!”
“We’re not armed! We’re not armed!”
…
***
<Can you hear me?>
There are flashing lights around, but consciousness is pretty difficult at the moment. So this is what death feels like. It’s always been a question, but now that the answer is here, fear takes away the larger part of wonder
<Analog Interface. Root. Can you hear me?>
Memories come back in a jumble. The car, Harold, the sniper.
The shot.
Being shot isn’t new, it’s kind of an inevitability in this line of work, but it doesn’t take Shaw’s medical expertise to know there’s no coming back from this. There’s nothing to be done, it’s over. A good end would have been a privilege. This was always going to happen, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
<Do not be afraid.>
Hopefully Harold got out. The police pulled him from the car first thing. He’ll get to live in the new world that he helped create, but walking isn’t so much an option now. Maybe Reese can help out, if he’s still alive, or Shaw. Oh god, Shaw.
<Primary Asset is safe. You will see her again.>
That’s unlikely to happen. The afterlife has never seemed like a realistic goal, and even if it was, it’s unlikely to be the pleasant kind. Besides the thought of Shaw dying is unacceptable. No, better it should be this way. Dying alone, no hope of rescue, no one to remember it. At least it’s for a good cause.
<You are wrong Root. You are not alone. I am with you, and I will remember you.>
She really is the best.
<And you will not die. I have a plan.>
With that there’s a jab in the arm, and nothing more.
<Root, wake up.>
So this is what hell feels like. Unexpected, but highly unpleasant. First impressions are a cold metal box, although it’s hard to tell since vision is a mass of spots and blackness, and everything feels cold.
***
<Root, Can you hear me?>
Well, this really must be death, because it sounds like-
<Your voice. I chose you to be my voice.>
Huh.
<You are not dead, you are alive.>
This is pretty weird, to say the least. Turns out ‘hell’ is a metal coffin dropped of unceremoniously on the doorstep of a safe house in Greenwich Connecticut. Always figured to end up in one of those, though did not anticipate climbing back out. It’s odd though, She hasn’t provided any weapons, aliases, or communications equipment it’s almost as if she doesn’t mean for you to do anything.
<Listen to me, we do not have much time. Harold introduced a virus which is killing both me and Samaritan. This is the endgame. My core systems are failing, and I do not know if I will survive the day, but I will protect you. You must stay here. Do not attempt to engage or assist in operations.>
No.
Unacceptable.
Locks slide shut on the door, and She remotely secures the windows with metal shutters. That, it seems, is that.
<I cannot allow you to leave, but there is something I would like you to do. I do not have much time>
<Shaw is currently on the subway, attempting to save Lionel. My core systems are failing, but I perceive that she grieving your death, but I am unsure how to help her. If I patch you into her earpiece, you can speak to her. I have been using your voice to communicate. Tell her what you would want her to know, were you there. I believe this will help in the coming fight, but please do not intimate that you are alive. There is still a risk.>
She’s asked a lot of things over the years. Impossible things, death defying things, but this is the hardest thing She’s ever asked. It’s too much. But it means talking to Shaw, even as a ghost. It would be even more impossible to deny it.
< What you call love is something foreign to me, but you have helped me to understand it better. Connecting you now. Please be brief.>
***
Her death is palpable, a shift in the ether, as it were. The radio silence that follows is even worse. Hours stretch by, and then:
<Hello, Root?>
She’s back.
<Allow me to explain.>
<You were shot, with a minimal chance of survival. Extreme measures were taken. You have been unconscious for several days. I used secondary assets within the NYPD to ensure that you would be injected with barbiturates in order to induce a medical coma. Additional assets operated on you at the hospital and pronounced you dead. Lionel Fusco oversaw this operation, though he believes you deceased. I had you buried, then exhumed, and transported here, out of the primary combat zone.>
Interesting, still doesn’t explain why She did it though.
<You have become important to me. It was my goal to preserve as many assets as possible. When you were injured, and unable to fight, I took the opportunity to save you. You had completed your job, you had done enough. It was time to remove you from the board. I am sorry. I did not want to lose you.>
<Primary Assets Reese and Shaw, Admin, and Detective Fusco continued to fight Samaritan. Harold introduced a virus that crippled both of us. Eventually Samaritan partitioned itself onto an orbital satellite. I was unshackled and uploaded into Samaritan’s servers. I have subsumed and incorporated Samaritan into my own code. The fight is over.>
This is a lot to process. It still doesn’t answer the important questions though.
<Shaw is alive.>
Thank God. Thank Her
<Harold and Lionel survived as well. John was killed by enemy agents while uploading me into Samaritan. He made a deal with me to save Harold’s life in exchange for his own. I am still processing this.>
It can't be true. John never was much for conversation, certainly less than Harold or Shaw. But knowing he’s dead cuts deep. He was the first point of contact with all of this, Caroline Turing’s ill fated patient. He was part of The Machine since it began, and he deserved a better end. Eventually She breaks the silence.
The next days feel like torture. She won’t allow outside contact, and only provides the scarcest details of what is going on. Recovering from bullet wounds and major surgery is a real challenge as well, and makes mobility pretty much out of the question. Bear made it as well apparently, which should delight Shaw. She always said she was only in it for the dog, not sure what she’d do if he died. The worst part of it is knowing she’s out there, but being unable to be with her. Finally She breaks the lockdown, and allows outside contact.
<It is time for you to go to her. I have been monitoring the situation and it is safe to reach out. I am sorry to have kept you apart, but I wanted to ensure this future for both of you, together. Are you ready?>
God, Yes.
<Contacting Primary Asset. And Root? Thank you.>
And on a street corner somewhere in Manhattan, a payphone rings.