Work Text:
Shaw turns to Reese when his phone starts ringing. She tries to read Fusco’s message on his face, but his features remain impassive. He lowers the phone and steps closer to her, invading her personal space. She suppresses the urge to step back, to walk away. She needs to know. Reese stretches out his hand to touch her shoulder, but draws away, when he sees her flinch.
“She is in a coma. She lost a lot of blood. They don't… they don't know if she will wake up.” He leaves the ever unsaid, but Shaw hears it anyway. She nods.
***
Her head is spinning. Well, she is spinning. She has been standing on the merry-go-round all night. Sometime after the sun had come up, the playground had filled with children and at some point the kids had accepted her as part of the playground and had started spinning her around. She hadn't moved, hadn't said a word.
There is just one place she wants to go, but she can't. It doesn’t really matter anyway. It isn’t like Root is waiting for her. Fusco had assured her that no one had tried to get to Root. Apparently, Samaritan doesn't see her as a threat anymore. But there is no doubt it is still watching her, waiting for visitors. So since Shaw can't be at the only place she needs to be, she just keeps spinning.
***
The glow from the lava lamp makes Root’s room look much warmer than it actually is. Shaw sits down on the edge of the bed. Her hand moves over the smooth bed sheet. It’s cold, too, and Shaw shivers. She eyes the box next to the bed that Fusco had brought from the hospital. She grabs the leather jacket from the box and holds it in both hands. She places it over her shoulders - like she remembers Root placing it around her, even though she never did. Root’s scent flushes her brain. It’s remarkable how fast she had become used to it again in such a short time and she can’t stop herself from thinking back to the moments she had been close enough to smell it since she had come back.
That first night in the park after they had put down the guns pointed at their heads, they didn’t go anywhere. There was nowhere to go (no need to go anywhere). Root had wanted to take her back to the subway, but Shaw had refused. She hadn’t trusted herself enough. So they just stayed at the park until morning. They sat down next to each other against the trunk of a tree. Root made sure that their shoulders were touching and Shaw didn’t mind. They didn’t talk. After a while Root’s breath evened out and her head sank down onto Shaw’s shoulder. Shaw didn’t move. She didn’t sleep. She kept watch. She listened to Root’s even breaths.
After they had reunited with Fusco, Reese and Finch, they all had insisted that the subway was the safest place for her and eventually Shaw had conceded.
She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until Root sat her down on the bed. She was even too tired to tease Root for the ridiculous lava lamp. Root crouched down in front of her and tentatively touched her knee. “You need to sleep. You look horrible,” Root said lowly.
“Geez, I was expecting a friendlier homecoming , at least from you. Where is the perky psycho?”
Root averted her eyes to stare at the wall behind Shaw. “She has been gone for a while.”
Shaw touched Root’s cheek to make her look at her again. “Well, I hope she comes back, because I missed her,” Shaw said softly.
“Didn’t Sim-Root live up to my standards?”
“Not even close. However, she did do that thing I always had to beg you to do.”
Root’s eyes widened. “We had sex in your simulations?”
“Only a couple over seven thousand times.” Shaw dead-panned.
“Who knew you had such a naughty mind? I guess that means you owe me - big time.” Root said with a dorky wink and a smile that was almost as perky as it used to be.
Shaw smiled. “Sure, Root. But I’m not sure I’m up for seven thousand times today.”
“Well, not today, like I said you look horrible.” She stood up. “But I’ll hold you to it,” she added while walking out the door to let Shaw rest.
It was close to midnight when Shaw woke up, hungry and still just as tired as before. She got up from the bed and shivered as her bare feet touched the cool floor. She looked around and her eyes landed on the bunny slippers. She shook her head. That was a line she was not willing to cross. She padded out onto the platform and found Root crouched down beside the old pay phone with something that looked like a tape recorder in her lap.
“Is the machine making you mix tapes now?" Shaw asked.
“No, but you’re not that far off... I think.” Root said absent-mindedly.
"What does that mean?"
"I'm not sure. The big picture - still hers, remember?"
“Uhu..." Shaw was only half listening, because her stomach had started growling. "Is there any food here? I’m starving.”
“Reese brought pizza over earlier,” Root said pointing to the subway car.
“Why didn’t you wake me!?” Shaw huffed while hurrying to the car and grabbing the pizza carton from one of the seats. “Now it’s cold.”
“You needed to sleep. And cold pizza is good, too.”
“Not as good as hot.” Shaw complained.
“I’m glad you kept your appetite.” Root said still engrossed in wiring up the tape recorder.
When Shaw had finished the last slice, she stood up. ”I think I go back to bed. I’m still pretty beat. Are you gonna work all night? You look exhausted, too.” Shaw commented.
“Actually, I just finished.” Root announced.”Just let me grab my pyjamas and you can have the room for yourself.”
“Where do you sleep?” Shaw asked in irritation.
“The bench is not that uncomfortable – as you might remember.”
“I remember it’s extremely uncomfortable. And I thought… the bed is not that small.”
“I wanted to give you some space.”
“It's ok, Root. I..." Shaw straightens herself. "When I'm alone it's harder to believe... to tell what's real."
Root hesitated shortly. "Alright..."
When Root came back from the bathroom, Shaw was already in bed. Root lay down on her back beside Shaw. To Shaw's surprise Root was careful not to touch her. So she reached out and lay her arm across Root’s stomach. After a moment, she felt Root’s muscles clench and unclench, then a small sob escaped Root’s lips.
“Root…” Shaw whispered hesitantly.
“I’m sorry. I… I don’t know…” Root said her voice cracking.
“I can sleep outside…”
“No!” Root snapped and clasped Shaw’s arm holding it in place. “I want you here. It’s just so much.“ Root wiped at her eyes trying to compose herself.
“Can you hold me?” Root whispered.
Shaw pulled her closer until their bodies were touching.
“Are you sure that’s ok?” Shaw asked.
Root turned around and cupped Shaw’s face. Her eyes were glistening. “It will be, Sweetie.”
“Hey, Sweetie.” Shaw hears Root’s voice as if she stands right next to her. She shakes her head to get rid of the memory.
“Don’t ignore me.” Root’s voice sounds again.
“What the hell?” Shaw says in irritation and touches the spot behind her ear.
“It’s me, Sweetie. You know who I am.”
Realization dawns on Shaw and she grips the bed sheet tightly on either side of her. “You took her voice. Why would you do that?”
“I miss her. She was special to me. That’s why I adopted her voice. I thought hearing her voice might make you feel better.”
“It doesn’t. She isn’t dead. You can’t just take her voice.”
“She wouldn’t mind. And I thought you might understand. I believe you might be the person most likely to grasp the way I perceive things.”
“Because I don’t have feelings?” Shaw asks indignantly.
“You experienced what it’s like to go through the same moments again and again like I do - and being unable to stop the worst from happening.”
Shaw contemplates this. She remembers looking into Root’s terrified face the moment before she pulled the trigger on herself – over and over again. Is that what it’s like for the machine? “You’re wrong about the last part. I did stop the worst from happening in all these simulations.” After a moment she adds, “It should have been me in the car.”
“It’s no use to dwell on past decisions. And there’s no time for it now, anyway. Harold, Reese, and Fusco will be here soon. The final battle is about to begin. You should get ready.”
“I am always ready.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” The machine says with almost as much innuendo as Root would have.
“Stop that or I’ll shoot every single one of your stupid play stations.” Shaw growls, making her way towards the subway car to prepare the guns.
***
After everything is over, Shaw is finally able to visit. Root is pale and still. The beeping of the heart monitor slow and constant. Shaw hovers at the door. She pulls the jacket closer around her – her jacket. Shaw takes one tentative step forward. That’s when she sees the band-aid under Root’s ear. She moves closer and removes it, careful not to touch skin. The cut is clean and the stitches professional. Someone had removed the cochlear implant. That's how they had found them. It doesn’t matter anymore. They were here, they touched her. A hot anger rises in Shaw. But it doesn’t matter anymore either. It doesn’t matter, because they are gone. It doesn’t matter, because Root is gone.
“Goodbye” she whispers. She isn’t sure what comes next, but there are still a few things she needs to take care of. You’re a straight line, an arrow, she remembers the machine’s words. That’s what she’s going to be.
***
The weight of her gun feels familiar and safe. It keeps her grounded. It keeps her from lunging at the guy and beating him up until he’s nothing but a lump of bloody meat. When she speaks she is calm and professional. He is not calm. He’s begging for his life like countless people before him. Is this any different than all the other people she’s killed? Is she different? Shaw isn’t sure.
“I’ve met people. They taught me… the value of life.” Everything is different. But this is not.
“They wouldn’t want me to kill you.”
“You’re right. But they’re all dead.”
She doesn’t feel anything when she pulls the trigger. She had been curious if she would. She is a sociopath. But the girl, Gen, had been right. The volume is turned down and most of the time it’s just silence, but sometimes if she listens very carefully she can hear the echo of a sound.
As she makes her way through the busy streets to pay Fusco one last visit, she tries to discern the instances when there might have been something echoing through her body. When Root went into the Samaritan server farm all alone… When Root and she parted ways afterwards… When she pushed the override button at the stock exchange … When Root put the gun to her own head in the park…
But when Reese had told her about Root, there had only been silence, pure and clean silence. And that is how she realized that it hadn’t really been quiet for a long time. That there had been something, a low, constant hum. You don’t even realize it’s there until it suddenly stops. When it did start again a moment later she heard it, though, and now she hears it all the time, she knows the sound. Sometimes she can’t hear anything else. It’s Root. Shaw doesn’t have feelings like other people do, so trying to use their vocabulary is kind of pointless anyway. That hum, the best word Shaw could find for it, was Root.
Maybe it will fade away. Maybe someday silence will be her only companion again and maybe that is enough. She doesn't know if she would have ever been capable to give Root what she deserved. But Root was the only one it would have been worth trying for.
***
“You hear anything from glasses or John?” Fusco inquires after Shaw had slumped down opposite him in the diner.
“No news is no news”
“And Cocoa Puffs?” He asks cautiously.
Shaw just shrugs.
“So are you sticking around?”
“There’s nothing here for me anymore.”
“I know the docs said the chances were slim, but… you don’t think she might wake up one day?”
Shaw is quiet for a while. Finally, she says, “If she does, I’m sure she’ll be able to find me.”
Fusco nods. “Nice of you to come and say goodbye.”
“Actually, I came to collect my dog.” Shaw answers with a smirk.
“Your dog?” Fusco says questioningly, but hands over the leash.
“See you when I see you”
“Not if I see you first”
***
This is a new beginning. She has come out of this alive. She is alone and free. She can go wherever she wants to go. Be whoever she wants to be. Maybe this is how it is supposed to be.
A few years ago, she would have felt invincible. But now there is the humming, still strong, making every step she takes away from this life unbearable.
Suddenly, the pay phone next to her starts ringing. She stops, turns towards the phone. It can’t be. She reaches for the receiver but hesitates. She is afraid to hear her voice. But then she wants nothing more than to hear her voice. She picks up the phone. It’s not her voice. It’s a generic voice. It gives her a location. The hospital Root is in. The number of Root’s room.
When the message stops, she slowly hangs up the phone.
This can only mean one thing. Well, two things actually. The first is, the machine is still alive – or some version of her. And the second… Shaw doesn’t really trust her conclusion, but the machine would not be that cruel, not after everything.
A smile appears on her face as she walks away.
***
When she steps into the room everything is the same as last time. The body in the bed looks just as weak and lifeless as before and for a moment Shaw wonders if there ever really was a phone call at all. But then soft hazel eyes open slowly and connect with hers.
A small smile appears on Root’s lips.
“Hey, Sweetie”, her voice is so low and fragile.
Shaw swallows hard and steps closer. “Hey, there…”
Root turns her hand towards Shaw, too weak to lift it. Shaw takes it and interlocks their fingers.
“What happened?”
“You got shot in the stomach by a 6.5. You were in a coma for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?!” Shaw nods. “Don’t tell me I missed the party.”
“You did. And it was a hell of a party.”
“It’s over then? Samaritan…?”
“Samaritan is dead.”
“And the machine?” Root asks anxiously.
“She… she is still there. I don’t know to what capacity, but she is alive.”
“What about the others?”
“Fusco is fine. Finch and Reese… we haven’t heard anything from them.”
Root shuts her eyes in agony. “I should have been there with you.”
“You were, Root. You saved Finch, took a bullet for him.”
“But it wasn’t enough. I was supposed to be with you till the end.”
“In a way you were. We lost you, but you were never really gone.”
Root looks at Shaw in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I think the machine would appreciate it if she could be the one telling you this”
“Sameen, this almost sounds like you two finally bonded.” Root says as teasingly as she can manage in her current condition.
“We did, sort of. I now find her even creepier than before, but - as you might know - I kind of like that sort of thing.”
Root’s eyes twinkle. “I’m so glad you said that”
They smirk knowingly at each other. After a moment Shaw’s expression becomes somber again. She leans in and presses her lips softly against Root’s.
“Thank you,” Shaw whispers against Root’s lips, “for waking up.”
Root leans back slightly to look into Shaw’s eyes. “Thank you for coming back to me” Root says.
Shaw doesn't know how she ended up where she is right now, or where she will go from here, but she knows there is one truth she can't deny.
“I always come back to you.”