Chapter Text
Present day, Russia:
Sitting in a dank and dingy room, cramped and overcrowded by women, the prisoners of penal colony No 13 were busy sewing together uniforms as several guards watched over them in detail. No personal belongings, no breaks, no sleep and working long hours, these women were beyond breaking point. Allowed to wash only once a week, and every morning work started at 7am, it was a strict and harsh environment to be stuck in, day after day after day, for years.
A bell rings, and the women gradually stop what they're doing and get up, slowly. On top of the dire conditions, the monotonous and tedious work was sapping every last ounce of hope and energy out of them, as the women trudge to the dining hall.
Sirens
A fight breaks out within the hall, disrupting the queue of prisoners still waiting to collect their food from the servers. Trays clatter to the ground as some are caught in the crossfire as groups of women start to fight, scratching eyes, pulling hair, punching, kicking, wrestling and throwing each other across the table tops.
Chaos as the guards watch on from behind the bars and security doors, waiting for back up before entering the now dangerous area. The back up guards who were in the other room suiting up with knife proof vests, batons, pepper stray, tasers, shields, helmets, gloves.....
Meanwhile the fighting becomes more violent as knives are now being used, injuries starting to become lethal. By this point everyone who was not involved tried to move as far into the corners of the dining hall as they could, trying to stay clear of the now apparent gang territory war. Those who were involved were now looking for any weapon or item to protect themselves, forks, knives the metal trays from which they were served their meals as the violence continues to escalate.
A red flashing light continues to circle with the rattling sirens in the background, and a final warning is given over the speaker system. It's ignored, the sound drowned out by the heavy clattering and arguing from the fights. Too engrossed in their own anger, the fighting doesn't relent, and so the security doors are finally opened. Heavily armed and protected, some of the guards step through the security door, stopping just on the other side and form a line. Not holding back, they line up into two rows and cock their guns, firing into the crowd.
Screams vibrate through the hall as many are hit by the rubber bullets. Hearing the reload, some dive for what little cover they had under tables or behind each other as another round of bullets are fired, sending many more to the ground screaming in both pain and horror of the situation. No one was spared, not even those who weren't fighting.
As the two rows of guards stand and move aside, the other guards rush further into the hall, batons to the ready, and continue by beating any prisoner still daring to resist. Even those who tried to just simply stand back up, still in shock, they were also promptly knocked back to the ground. The policy was zero tolerance. And this was what was executed.
As the fighting is finally under control, the guards having hauled away the trouble makers, the rest of the on looking prisoners are lined up in single file and marched back to their cell block. An undignified end to an undignified fight.
What was left behind were a handful of guards standing over a few fatally injured prisoners, unmoving, surrounded by up turned tables, thrown food, torn clothes, home made knives and blood staining the floor.
…...
Meanwhile, back in NYC:
Slumped heavily on the floor and inhaling short puffs of air, her head spinning, Root feels the dulling shots of pain in the back of her head as her throat constricts her. Her stomach agreeing as she feels another wave of nausea hitting her.
“Ugh.....” As Root continues to feel sorry for herself, her heavy limbs now also winning as she feels every last ounce of energy draining from her. Even the cold tiles of the bathroom floor was sending goosebumps along her legs. It was beginning to get too cold, but Root's legs would not move, no matter how she willed them. Closing her eyes, hoping at least the nausea would subside, Root doesn't realise she had fallen asleep until she feels a hand on the back of her neck.
Leaning forward and into a crouching Shaw, Root wraps her arms around Shaw's waist, humming as she did so, finding warmth and comfort in Shaw's body heat. Legs still not moving, Root rests her head on Shaw's chest, listening to her strong and steady heart beat, it was soothing.
Shaw's brows furrow as she watches Root circle her arms around her waist, head now leaning against her chest. Letting out a heavy sign, Shaw curls her arm around Root's head, allowing Root to seek momentary rest bite... But as time passes, Shaw's own legs start to go numb while her bare shoulders freeze. Continuing to rub Root's back, “come on,” Shaw encourages as she squeezes Root's shoulder a little harder, “it's cold in here.”
Shaw feels Root's head nod on her chest, and Shaw helps her to stand. Only when they do, Root faints briefly, crashing heavily into Shaw before regaining herself a few seconds later.
Seeing Root's eyes flicker open again, and smiling weakly at her, Shaw braces herself as she scoops Root into her arms and carries her back out into their bedroom.
“Off, Bear” as Shaw shoos Bear off their bed, having claimed Root's vacancy when she left it. Bear jumps off just in time as Shaw reaches the bed, and scurries away.
Finishing tucking Root back into the bed, Shaw watches Root, stroking her cheek gently until she finally falls asleep again. Watching Root for a little moment longer, Shaw tip toes to the window and draws the blinds as the darkness of the night has now fully taken over the sky, and exits the bedroom.
…..
Gen sits on her bed, legs crossed, laptop open and emitting tunes to her wireless headphones placed over her ears. Bear having wandered into the room, now stands on the side of the bed, watching as Gen is looking down onto a sheet of paper. Tilting his head, Gen doesn't move, and so Bear instead hops up onto the bed and lays down beside her, resting.
'Assignment, the ordinary.....' Gen continues to contemplate, concentrating hard on the piece of paper, how was she was going to fulfil her latest assignment?... After a moment longer, and still coming up with nothing, Gen takes the headphones off her head, drops the paper and leaps off of the bed and out her room, clearly frustrated.
Bear lifts his head momentarily to see where Gen was going, but then promptly drops it again, dropping it back onto his front paws as he continues to snooze.
Walking to the kitchen and turning on the tap, splash, Gen leaves the cold water running, letting it rinse. After grabbing a tall glass from the cupboard, Gen fills it up and squeak, the tap is closed shut again. The coolness of the water soothes as it drifts down her throat, drinking it as she turns around and abruptly stops....
Looking out through the patio doors and onto the balcony, Gen raises an eyebrow in surprise. Now having stopped drinking, Gen places her glass quickly down onto the breakfast bar and walks to the patio door archway. Standing on the archway, Gen peeks her head out onto the balcony and smudges the glass door as she places her palm and fingers onto it to balance herself. Startling Shaw, “whatcha doing?” Gen asks curiously as she continues to watch Shaw finish planting seeds into the compost and starting to water the flower planter.
Suddenly hearing Gen's voice, Shaw closes her eyes momentarily to regain herself, spilling some of the water from the cannister on herself and the floor. Opening her eyes again Shaw sees Gen's grin.
“You know, for a spy you're not very alert! You've lost your touch, grandma” Gen teases further.
Just then Root had wandered into the living room, having woken up again from her series of broken rest, and goes to lean on the breakfast bar.
Now holding the water cannister to her chest, Shaw walks towards Gen with a fake smile as Gen meets her half way by walking out onto the balcony and peering at the planter, “what's in the... Aaaah!” As Shaw throws the remainder of the cold water onto Gen, and laughs. Gen turns and glares at Shaw, and Shaw soon matches the glare, 'bring. It. Kid' as they both continue to stare and challenge each other, unflinching.
Watching for a few seconds longer, Root shakes her head and decides to break their stalemate, “who's up for ice cream?” She calls out towards the balcony while walking towards the freezer. With that Gen, Shaw and Bear come running as Root continues to take the tub of ice cream out of the freezer.