Work Text:
It was raining heavily. The raindrops constantly hammered the ground, splashing around.
Shaw didn’t care about it, though. She could hardly hear the sounds, as her right ear was damaged by poison, when protecting a number during a drug deal.
Now the mission was finally done.
It was an early night, Shaw standing in a room of a clinic, with a black pouch in her hand. A chip, the way she could hear The machine directly, was in it.
Just like Root….
“This money,” Shaw threw a bag on the bed. Half of her face was bloody, “can afford the treatment for your wife’s chronic disease, so that you don’t have to rob the bank tonight, Dr. Johnson. But if you tell anybody what happened tonight, I don’t think you can afford that.”
The man frozen on his seat took a few minutes to understand the situation, as Shaw aimed her pistol at him.
“Come on, the best doctor in this neighborhood.” Shaw tried to comfort him, impatiently.
“O-okay.” The man finally realized the situation, and he chose to do the surgery, the only choice he had.
Lying on the surgical table, Shaw stared at the ceiling, where gray dominated the view. She tried to review the life after the war with the Samaritan.
The fresh blood for the team, if they were a team, was diligent, more hard-working than Shaw thought. But she just wasn’t able to get fit into them or, she had never thought about it. She handled numbers alone, mostly.
At some point, The Machine started giving numbers to Shaw straightly, and Shaw was very willing to receive them. In the end, she gave Shaw the chip, an easier way to connect her, after Finch went to Italy with Grace for their honeymoon.
Honeymoon….
Somehow, a silhouette of a woman flashed across her eyes. The intoxicant started working, she even couldn’t catch the shadow of the her. But she knew who she was, even just saw a silhouette. She was the woman Shaw had never forgotten.
Twenty seconds later, Shaw lost her consciousness.
Three weeks ago, Shaw got used to listening to The Machine in her ear. Listening to her voice, well, at least 99.6% similar to her, wasn’t as bad as she thought. Shaw had never mistaken The Machine for Root. After all, Root died in the war.
“At five o’clock.” Shaw heard The Machine say, immediately turned to shoot the knee of a guy. The man kneeled down instantly with a groan.
The shootout was ended.
Shaw sent the number to the police and walked back to her safe place, an apartment The Machine appointed. Walking pass a cemetery, a number emerged in her mind: 050313, for no reason, Shaw sighed unconsciously.
A cloudy day made people depressed…. She guessed.
Wind blew through the street, and cleaned her thoughts away. Her life was saving numbers or saving people from numbers, and walking Bear. She lived alone, that was all.
Passing a steak store, Shaw stopped and glanced at the menu. It was time for dinner. She entered the store and came out with a cheese burger in her hand, then backed to her way home.
Shaw was chewing the burger while thinking of nothing. Until she heard a slight buzz from her right ear, she stopped, and next second, she heard-
“Hi, sweetie, do you believe in reincarnation?”
Shaw was almost chocked by the burger. The voice, not The Machine’s 99.6% similarity, it was 100% of her.
Root….
“This is not funny.” Shaw warned after swallowing the beef in her mouth.
“I know, honey. Honestly, I don’t understand the situation either.” The voice replied, smiling. It just sounded like the voice Shaw dreamed about every night, though she hated to admit it.
“Stop playing. This is not interesting even you’re a god.” Shaw’s tone started quivering out of rage.
“Well, Sameen, I’m not her. I know it’s scary but-”
“Shut up!” Shaw growled, attracted some attention from passerby. She pressed her right ear, tried to get away from the voice. Luckily, nobody spoke after that. Shaw bit down on her lip, until the taste of blood spread in her mouth, which finally calm down her a little.
She started walk back home again.
Shaw opened the door and Bear rushed to welcome her.
“Good boy!” Shaw rubbed the dog’s ear and tapped his head, then got the dog food bag, “Hungry?” she asked while scooped up a spoonful of dog food.
Bear sat down and watched her preparing the food, he whined and swallowed back his saliva, waiting for the food anxiously. The answer was obvious.
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Shaw gave the gesture, and Bear immediately buried his face into the bowl. She stroked the dog’s back, with a kind of softness that she wasn’t aware of. Somehow, the familiar voice started echoing in her head. She took a deep breath and went to the den.
Sitting in front of the computer, Shaw stared at the camera on it. Situation given, she considered it’d better be a face-to-face conversation.
“Okay, let’s talk. What was that?” Shaw rolled her eyes while asking, but still waited for the answer.
It started with buzz. A few seconds later, The Machine responded: “Excuse me, but you mean what?” it was the voice that the Machine had, not Root.
Not Root….
“Her voice.” Shaw didn’t want to add details.
“That’s,” The Machine hesitated, which she had hardly done before, “I’m not sure either, a conscious level of existence, probably. You should talk to her directly.”
Her….
Shaw clenched her teeth. The existence that even The Machine had no idea about.
“Fine.” She squeezed out one word from lips.
“Hi, sweetie, a few hours, no see.”
“Who are you?” Shaw went straight to the question.
“… I don’t know.” The voice answered, “if this can’t satisfy you, let me explain in this way. At some point, I was awakened. I was surprised, as I knew I had died once, but soon I found I share the views and sounds the her. I am a part of the Machine but my consciousness independent of her. So if you’re going to ask more, both of us may not be able to answer.”
“You’re not Root.” Shaw concluded.
“Who knows that. The Ship of Theseus, honey, even myself don’t know who I am.” The voice gently laughed.
“I’m not in the mood talking about philosophy.” Shaw frowned, “I’ve gotten my answer, can you stop talking now?”
“Okay, honey.” The voice replied willingly, “talk to you later.”
Shaw closed the computer and stared at the emptiness before. The Machine got some errors, but Finch couldn’t fix them right away.
Next day, Shaw received a new number. A programmer who accidentally witnessed a gang shootout. She looked at his photo thoughtfully, trying to remember the symbols.
“A cute guy, ah?” Root’s voice rang in her ear.
“Why are you here? Where’s The Machine?” Shaw put the photo away.
“I got bored. And she let me out to refresh a little.” The voice said playingly.
Shaw didn’t reply. Packing up guns, giving food to Bear, walking out of the door, saying nothing more.
“You’re going to make him erase me, won’t you?” on the way stalking the number, the voice spoke out again.
“Yes.” Shaw glanced at the camera on the corner of the street, “So you can also read people’s mind.”
“Your mind is easy to understand, sweetie.” The voice flirted. “And there’s one waiting for him at next corner. Now he’s walking toward the programmer.”
Shaw racked the slide. She didn’t ask to change the voice to the Machine. She didn’t know whether she forgot it or she just chose to ignore it.
With two gunshots, the man collapsed to the ground. Shaw grabbed the programmer and dragged him to another lane.
“Hi, Will. Nice to meet you.” Shaw unclenched the man’s collar.
“Who, who are you?!” Shaw rolled her eyes, the numbers all acted the same way when they first met.
“I missed your shooting style.” The voice echoed in her ear again.
“What style?” Shaw frowned.
“All of your styles.”
Shaw looked up and sighed. The voice was just like Root, playing, flirting, smiling.
Just like Root…. Shaw remember the first question the voice asked her-
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Shaw didn’t have that much time to think about it. The gang’s backup arrived. But also, Shaw’s backup arrived.
“How can you always get into this?” Fusco blamed Shaw out of breath.
“My luck.” Shaw tilted her head and made a smile.
It was another fierce shootout, and ended with all the gang members’ knees wasted.
“Lionel.” Shaw stopped the detective when he was arresting people on the ground. She wanted to know the opinion from others.
“What?” Fusco looked up and responded impatiently. He hated Shaw doing nothing but watching him sweating, though his backup was on the way coming.
“….” Shaw found it was difficult to speak out the question, she could only reply with another word instead, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Fusco was obviously surprised by Shaw’s attitude. He gave Shaw a strange look but said nothing.
Shaw didn’t want to spend more time so she left the number to Fusco and went back home.
“Lionel is still the same.” Said the voice, after Shaw walked two blocks away.
“You didn’t like peeking before.” Shaw observed.
“I’m not peeking. I’m watching aboveboard.”
Shaw rolled her eyes in her mind.
In the evening, Shaw walked Bear as usual, but this time, she chose an old lane to walk Bear.
“I’m blind here, sweetie.” Unsurprisingly, the voice spoke out.
“I think so.” Shaw felt herself finally winning something, and bought some Frankenfood from a street stall as snacks. “No camera here.”
“So you can see views from all over the world.” Shaw commented.
“Technically yes, but I can’t process that much of information at a moment. What I saw were sifted by her.”
“That’s new information.” Shaw nodded while chewing.
“What are you eating, honey?”
“Some kind of Chinese food, I guess.” Shaw looked at the roll in her hand, observed. “Taste pretty good. I think I’ll walk Bear here every evening.” She didn’t know why she would’ve added the last sentence, so childish.
“Sounds good.” The voice didn’t object or show any sign of unpleasantness.
Receiving this kind of responses, Shaw questioned in her mind. And next day evening, she saw several workers installing the camera in the lane.
“Of course you would.” Shaw murmured to herself. No need to think, somebody was listening too.
A week later, Finch came back from Italy. Shaw found him as soon as he arrived at the US.
“Long time, no see, Ms. Shaw. Hope you enjoyed your time with the Machine.” Finch greeted Shaw, stirring the coffee. He seemed to know what Shaw had done when he was absent.
“Yeah, I had a great time.” Shaw smile, hesitated for a few second, she added, “Finch, do you think the Machine will have another personality one day?”
“You mean what?” Finch stopped sipping his coffee and raised his eyes.
“Another personality, which is completely independent from the Machine.” Shaw explained.
“No, that’s not gonna happen.” Finch denied instantly. “Anything happened after you installed the chip?”
“No nothing.” Shaw shook her head. “I was just curious.”
“The Machine isn’t Root, Ms. Shaw. Whatever it said in your head, please remember it’s not the person we’re familiar with, it’s just a Machine. Please take this if you need it.” Finch observed, and stood up, pass a card to her. That was a psychiatrist’s business card.
“I know you’re pissed off because of the chip,” Shaw objected, “But I’m really fine.”
“I hope so.” Finch nodded, and left the café.
“Finch has no idea too.” Shaw looked at the camera hanging on the ceiling of the café.
“There’s always something unknown in the world. People should admit that.” The voice sighed, “a honeymoon to Italy, so jealous.”
Shaw replied nothing and left the café.
A few days had passed, it was another cloudy day. After a mission was done, Shaw passed another cemetery. This time, she walked into it and stopped in front of a grave.
Shaw didn’t know how she walked to there. It seemed that her feet led her to where they wanted to go, the grave of John Reese.
“John….” The voice sighed in Shaw’s ear, made her throat tightened a little.
“It’s my first time here.” Shaw murmured. “I think you’ve already seen him, right?”
“If you meant his past and end, then the answer is yes. but if you meant the scenario after that, I have to say no, I couldn’t meet any of the friends we’d lost.” The voice answered peacefully. Shaw guessed there were some things in her tone, though she wasn’t able to figure them out.
“They took your body.” the words themselves escaped from Shaw’s lips.
The Samaritan had dug out Root’s body after she died. Shaw and Finch could have found nothing after the war. There was nothing under the nameless headstone.
“I know.” The voice softly replied.
Breeze blew through the graves, bringing a slice of coldness. Shaw found her eyes getting sorer and sorer.
The air was too dry, she thought.
A while later, Shaw spoke again: “Root?” it was the first time, Shaw called the name.
“Yes?”
“What are you here for?”
There was a long silence.
“… do you want to hear the truth?” Root replied, with deep uncertainty in her voice.
Shaw nodded slightly.
“I guess, I would say I’m here for a farewell.” Root said. Somehow, Shaw discerned her tone was quivering.
“An endless farewell.” Eventually, Shaw murmured.