Chapter Text
Burning pain courses through her chest. Her vision is blurry, but she can make out lights on the ceiling and faces hovering over her. She tries to raise her hand, but it is held back, and she realizes it is handcuffed to a rail. Alarmed, she jerks at the chains and tries to sit up. The hubbub of voices around her become frantic for a moment, and a mask is pressed over her nose and mouth. The space around her fades to black again, and she slips away from consciousness.
Gunshots ring out, and she feels like she is moving. The lights above her flash by as she is wheeled down a hall. She can see the shapes of men in suits pulling the bed she is chained to. The pain comes back a moment later, and she shuts her eyes again, willing herself not to scream. The world begins to slip away, and all that remains is a little voice whispering in her ear.
She focuses in on the voice. It is her.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers over and over.
Why? Root silently asks in her mind. Why are you sorry?
“I’m sorry.” The voice still whispers, and then Root loses that too. The blackness and silence swallow her again.
***
The next time she woke, it was to a familiar face staring down at her.
“Miss Groves.” Greer said. “What a pleasure to finally see you again.”
The pain was still there, not at all subdued, and she gritted her teeth as she raised her head to look at him. She found it was too much effort to speak, so she let the silence hang.
Greer stepped closer to her, laying a hand on the right side of her head and pushing it back down to the bed. “After our last meeting was so rudely cut short, I didn’t think I would ever have the gratification of ripping that implant out of your head to find your foolish god. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”
Across the room, she heard a bone saw turn on, electric motor wining in the background. The pain made it impossible for her to move, and she relaxed back into the bed, accepting her fate.
“I’m sorry.” The voice said again. Then a mind numbing burst of pain hit the side of her head, radiating away from her right ear. She screamed, the pain reverberating through her skull and making the muscles all through her body tense up.
The blackness started to rise up in her mind again, drowning out the world. The voice was gone, replaced by the pain.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound of water echoed through the large empty space. She slowly raised her head, taking in her surroundings. She was sitting in a chair in an empty warehouse. Her hands were zip-tied to the arms, but she swiftly wriggled out of the restraints. She stood shakily, hand resting on the back of the chair.
The voice was silent. Root was alone. She put her hand up beside her right ear, feeling the old scar, ensuring herself that the cochlear implant was still there. Why did she need to check? Of course it was still there.
She lowered her hand, face puzzled. Then she shook her head, as if clearing the confusion away. How had she gotten here? More importantly: where was here?
A glint of metal caught her eye, and she looked closely at the floor by the chair. In the half-light filtering in through the dirty windows of the warehouse, she could see a pistol. She moved to pick it up, steadying herself with a hand on the chair as she bent down. Her fingers met the cold metal of the grip, and she hefted the weapon, feeling its weight in her hands. She stood again, and tucked the gun into her waistband. She would probably need it later.
Then she turned toward the edge of the warehouse, looking for a way out. She found one quickly, but it was locked from the outside. She pulled the gun out, pointed it at the lock, and fired two quick shots through the door. She kicked it open and stepped out, carefully checking back and forth before leaving her cover.
It was cloudy outside, a steady drizzle hanging in the air. She was cold, she realized. All she was wearing was a thin t shirt and jeans. She tucked the gun back into her waistband and jogged away from the warehouse.
She appeared to be in New York, on the docks. She was grateful that she could at least recognize her surroundings. She had to get back to the subway, to the team. They needed her.
She remembered, Harold’s number had come up. She had been driving him. Then the pain.
She stopped running, her hand finding its way to her collar bone unprompted. The last she had seen of him, the police had been leading him away. Her memory of the scene was fuzzy, like she had seen it through a rippling layer of water.
She pressed her fingers to the scar again. The machine’s silence was troubling her. She was never this quiet. She always had something to say.
What was going on?
Then she saw them standing in the shadows in the open door of the warehouse she had just left behind: Samaritan agents, three of them. She started running again.
Somehow, in the drizzly half-dark, she managed to lose them. She found herself in an alley, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath after running for blocks and blocks. She couldn’t go home yet. She might lead them there.
There was an uncomfortable tingling in her chest, and she leaned against the wall, sinking down onto the pavement as she tried to catch her breath.
Movement at the mouth of the alley caught her eye, and she pointed the gun at the dark shape looming there. Shaw stepped out of the shadows.
Root let the gun drop by her side, a relieved smile lighting up her face. “I can’t believe you found me, sweetie.”
Shaw rolled her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” Vague annoyance colored her tone, but she reached out a hand, offering to help Root stand. Root gladly took her hand and let her pull her back to her feet.
“I think Samaritan took me on a little field trip.” She tilted her head to the side as she studied Shaw intently. “I shouldn’t go back to the subway until we can be sure they’re not tracking me.”
Shaw paused for a moment, as though frozen mid-thought. Then she nodded, lips pursed in her typical expression of annoyance. “We have to get you somewhere safe. Is there any place other than the subway that we could go?"
Root paused, thinking. “The safe house is compromised.” She said with a slight shake of her head. “I think we’ll just have to keep moving.”
“We should just go back to the subway. It’ll be fine.” Shaw said, turning to the mouth of the alley.
“No.” Root stumbled after her, grabbing her arm. “We can’t lead them to Harry or the machine.”
Shaw spun back around to face her. “Where can we go that’s safe?”
“Let’s just jack a car and drive for a bit. See if we’re followed.”
Shaw sighed deeply, rubbing her hand over her face. “Fine.” She huffed, turning on her heel and stalking out of the alley.
They stole a car in silence, Shaw getting into the driver’s seat and hot-wiring it to start. They cruised down the misty city streets, the lights flashing by. Root sat hunched in her seat, inexplicably cold.
She furtively glanced in the mirrors, looking for Samaritan agents in pursuit.
“So.” Shaw broke the silence. “You going to tell me what happened?”
“I-I I don’t know.” Root replied. She was still confused, and the machine hadn’t spoken to her since she had woken up in the warehouse. The last thing she remembered before the warehouse was the cops, and Harry fading away. She shuddered, the cold creeping into her bones. The pain in her chest was back. “I woke up in a deserted warehouse about a half an hour ago. There were Samaritan ops there, but I got away. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out what they wanted to do with me.”
Shaw nodded silently from her seat, watching the road.
“Where’s Harry?” Root asked, concern creeping into her voice. She didn’t know what had happened to him after the police had taken him away, she realized.
“He’s fine.” Shaw answered shortly. “He’s at the subway. You could see for yourself if you would just let us go back.”
“We can’t. Not yet.”
Shaw shook her head. Root glanced in the mirror again. “That black SUV. It’s been following us for three blocks now.”
Shaw looked back over her shoulder. “Looks like we got company.” She said, pressing down on the gas. The car rocketed forward, tires screeching on the pavement.
The black SUV sped up, and two gun turrets opened in the roof. It reminded her of something she had seen before. The car chase. Harry. She had managed to take out the car that time. Then she remembered the impact of the snipers bullet, knocking her breath away.
What had happened after that?
An operating room, lights, voices, gunshots.
She half shut her eyes, trying to remember where they had taken her.
The rattling beat of machine guns brought her back to the present. She ducked down, keeping her head out of the line of sight through the back window. The glass of the windows shattered as bullets ripped through the car. Shaw steered with one hand as she reached for her gun.
Root held out her hand toward Shaw, wordlessly asking for the gun. Shaw slid the gun into her hand with a hardly perceptible nod. Root pulled the gun she had taken from the warehouse out of her waistband, taking it in her other hand.
She brought the butt of the gun up, smashing out the glass of the passenger’s side window. Then she half crawled out the opening, twisting to return the Samaritan agents’ fire. She aimed for the tires, and after a couple of shots the driver of the SUV lost control, careening into the rows of cars parked along the road.
She smiled as she slid back into her seat, glancing at Shaw. The corner of Shaw’s mouth twitched up slightly as she turned her head away from Root.
“I think we lost them for now.” Shaw said as she slowed the speed of the car, easing into a sharp turn. “You sure about not going back to the subway?”
Root nodded. “They’re still probably looking for us. If Samaritan has a track on this vehicle then we can’t get anywhere near the subway.”
Shaw silently surveyed the damage to the car they were driving. “We need to find a new ride anyway. This one’s going to draw attention.”
They dumped the shot up car in an empty parking garage and left as quickly as they could. They found a new car swiftly, and this time Root drove.
She drove fast, speeding through the darkening streets. Her mind raced as fast as the car, trying to make sense of everything. Beside her, Shaw sat in silence, surveying their surroundings for any sign of trouble.
Then something in Root’s mind clicked. She had been shot. Not in the arm, or grazed. A big sniper slug had slammed into her body. She had been bleeding to death. That’s why her vision had been fuzzy. Her hand was on her collarbone again, pressing the place where she knew she had been shot.
“Sameen…” She said, looking at Shaw. “How long was I gone?”
Shaw shrugged. “A few hours maybe. Why?”
Root shook her head, biting her lip. “It all makes so much sense now. I couldn’t understand before, but now that I see it, I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. She hasn’t been talking to me since I woke up, and I couldn’t understand why. But it’s because none of this is real. This is all happening inside Samaritan.”
Shaw stared at her, her expression incredulous. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” Root gestured to the car. “You. The entire city. It’s all a simulation, just like you told me about.”
“Root.” Shaw laid a hand on her arm where she gripped the steering wheel. “Let’s just go back to the subway. Go back home.”
The cold invaded Root’s body again, and she shivered. Now she knew why she was cold. It was the real world bleeding through. The same with the pain in her chest. It was where she had been shot. She swallowed, face twisted into a sad smile. “I can’t go home. I would be showing Samaritan where everything I care about is hidden.”
Roots knuckles grew white as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She said as she stomped down on the gas and sped toward a telephone pole.
“Root, no!” Shaw reached for her arm, trying to pull it away from the wheel, trying to change the path of the vehicle.
But she was too late.
Root felt the shock of the crushing impact, heard the glass of the windows shattering around her. Then her world faded to black again.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
She gasped awake again.
The impact still hummed in her nerves, but it was fading away. Like a dream. She tried to remember what had happened moments before, but somehow she couldn’t.
She was in a warehouse. She realized she was zip-tied to a chair. The ties on her wrists were loose, and it was easy for her to get out of them. She stood once she was free, looking around the warehouse.
There was a gun lying on the floor beside the chair, and she took it. She wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was heavy and real feeling in her hand, and she took comfort in the coldness of the metal.
She found the door easily and shot out the lock. It was cold outside, and the misty rain chilled her to the bone.
Three Samaritan agents chased her through the wet early evening dusk, and it was all she could to outrun them. The machine was eerily silent in her ear, and she didn’t know what to do. After she had lost them, she sunk down in an alley, feeling an odd sense of de-ja-vu on top of the strange pain in her chest.
Then Shaw found her. They had moved through the oncoming night together for a while, but then Root had realized again why the world felt so strange, so out of step, and why she felt cold. Then she had ended it again.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
Greer was staring down at her when she opened her eyes. “It would be so much easier for you if you would just go home, Miss Groves. But then, you and your associates have never taken the easiest path before, so I don’t really expect you to start now.” He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “But you will eventually. One can only holdout so long in the face of superior force.”
She grinned giddily, a pained chuckle bursting from her lips. “So you didn’t find her with the cochlear implant then. I knew she wouldn’t let you.”
“No, miss Groves. Your god left you before we could. Overloaded the implant and burned it out. It could have killed you, or given you permanent brain damage.” He raised his eyebrows in emphasis. “Your life doesn’t mean much to it, does it now?”
She shook her head, still grinning. “My life has never been the point. She’ll do what she has to do.”
“Very well.” Greer said with a sardonic half smile. “We shall continue.”
She felt a needle prick her arm, and her vision grew blurry again.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
This time she jumps in front of a car while the agents are chasing her.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
She throws herself off the carpark when they stop to ditch first car they stole. Shaw’s terrified shout for her to stop echoes in her ears as she falls.
***
Lights.
Voices.
Pain.
Silence…
It goes on and on.