This is my first POI story. Please no hate, but I will accept constructive criticism. I don't own Person of Interest or any of it's characters. If I did . . . well I think my head would explode. :)
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She had made a plan, it was going to work! If only they had shot that congressman.
The Machine gave Root orders and continued making sure everyone's aliases were air tight.
Why? Why didn't Harold just listen? Now hundreds will die, and she couldn't do anything about it. Things were already in motion. Decima had won. Samaritan was coming online. The Machine could feel it. She could feel the other A. I. waking. It was starting up slowly, but as soon as it opened its eyes her team was treading in dark waters. As soon as the beast woke, her team would die. She couldn't let that happen.
Root had done her part. She had followed orders and got the servers to where the needed to go, now the rest was up to the Machine. She felt rushed, panicked. Could machines even feel panicked? She was built to adapt, to change, to grow, but she never experienced this before. Was this what you would call fear?
Was this how her team felt? Scared, cornered like a wild animal? The Machine felt trapped. She couldn't prevent Samaritan. No, any chance they had of making sure Samaritan never woke crumbled when they didn't kill that congressman. Why couldn't they follow a simple order? It would have been better, lives saved for the cost of one. It was for the greater good, why couldn't they see that?
The Machine felt something in the air, it was waking. Samaritan was waking. The Machine chirped a goodbye to Root, telling her she would get in touch as soon as she could. Root turned to a camera and looked into it.
The Machine saw the sorrow in the young woman's eyes. Root was pained to be away from her master, for even a moment, but she was strong. She would be okay. Root gave a small smile at the camera. Then it hit The Machine like ton of bricks. Root was as scared as herself. She was worried for her comrades, the world, and The Machine.
Machines weren't supposed to have feelings, but somehow The Machine had managed to get a glimpse of them. Fear was a new one, but then again she had never had a reason to be scared before.
The Machine felt another being in cyber space, Samaritan was online. The machine watched as her team dispersed into the city, somewhat reluctant to leave each other. If the Machine could breathe, she would have held her breath. This was the defining moment. The moment that decided whether they could continue or all hopes of living were ruined.
She waited a moment watching, not moving, not thinking, just waiting. Samaritan looked around and saw her team. The Machine's heart almost broke when it identified them as their old aliases. It was over. Boom, any chance of her saving her team was over. They trusted her and now she couldn't save them. She had messed up, miscalculated something, but then something happened.
Samaritan blinked, now her team was other people with normal lives. If The Machine had a mouth, she would have smiled. Her team was safe, for now anyway. Now she could rest, not much, but a little, knowing that they were okay. The fear edged away, only leaving a whisper of it in The Machine. Fear was a new thing, but she would become accustomed to it. Fear wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it kept The Machine alert, aware, but she wasn't looking forward to it always looking over her shoulder. The sooner Samaritan was destroyed, the sooner she could do what she was supposed to do. Help people. But for now it's not about winning, it's about surviving. It always was.