63 hours and I have yet to sleep

There are so many numbers that I'm starting to wonder if someone is paying those idiots for trying to get themselves killed.

Just to prevent me dream, just to make me angry.

I even have good idea who that might be.

Ring

'Miss Shaaw'

No

''Finch please, I just came home, let me get some sleep''

''I'm afraid I can't do it miss Shaw''

Figured that I would not go so easily

''Miss Groves is in great need of using your help with number''

Thats not even suprising that it is her fault I can't get any sleep.

''She's a big girl, she can handle herself''

''Come on sweety, don't be like that, you know I'm hopeless without you.''

''You are hopeless either way Root.''

Nice one Shaw.

''Besides I'm barely concious I wouldn't be much help, take John.''

''John is already working on his numer, come on Shaw.''

''No''

''Did I mentioned how beautiful sky look this night?

I heard that stars are falling. You wouldnt want to miss your chance in wishing something? Who knows maybe I can

help those dreams come true''

Even here I can feel her smirk.

''Yeah well I have just one wish : get lost''

I turned off my phone

I don't even have to close my eyes to start sleeping...

Few hours later and I'm good as new.

I walk inside the station and I see Finch and John, speaking quietly and Fusco sitting with his head down.

What is he even doing here at 6 o'clock.

''So where is this free food because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be here so early any other way Fusco''

Sounds more like me to be honest.

Is atmosphere always so heavy ?

''Miss Shaw...''

His voice is bristle and soft.

''Finch? What's going on ?''

''I'm so sorry...''

Sorry ? John, Finch, Fusco...

''Where is Root?''

Silence

'Where is she!?'

I'm starting to follow his head I see that floor is covered with red spots.

I follow them.

Root, I promise, I won't ever again roll my eyes on you, just please, please don't be...

Dead.

No.

''No, no, no, no, fuck, Root, fuck, fuck !''

Next thing I notice is Finchs hand on my bloody one.

''Please Miss Shaw, It won't help''

''Tell me, tell me it wasn't the number from this morning.''

He didn't have to answer, silence did it for him.

I step into my apartment.

My cheeks are wet.

I wonder if it's raining outside, I don't remember.

It's not.

I lay down on my bed and close my eyes.

I know I won't meet peaceful sleep for far more time than those fucking 63 hours.

If I ever will.

I wish the stars didn't listened.