Root attempted to sit up on the hospital bed, but the movement sent a surge of pain through her still healing wound that made her head spin. Defeated, she lay back on the uncomfortable mattress and listened to the consistent bleeps of the heart monitor that stood beside her. The pain, at least, was a reminder that she was somehow still alive, even when she had no right to be.

As she lay there, her mind drifted to thoughts of the others. To thoughts of Harold, and the fact that he was alive, that he could do what needed to be done. Root thought of Shaw, of what she must be feeling at the moment. Then the dread built up again as she thought of the pain she would cause Shaw when she did what she knew she had to do. She wished there was another way.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Fusco entered the room. "You're lucky to be alive," he said, closing the door behind him.

Root did her best to smile. "I see you got my message Lionel." She paused. This was really it. Root drew a deep breath. "I need to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" Fusco frowned. "You're not usually one to ask permission. What is it?"

"I need to die."

"What?" Horror spread across the detective's face. "Look," he continued. "I know your plans can be crazy at times but this is full blown nuts. I'm not helping you die."

Despite everything, Root let out a soft laugh. "I don't mean actually die, but I can see your confusion." Fusco became more relaxed at hearing that, but it was clear he was still concerned. "I need to disappear, Lionel," explained Root. "Everyone needs to believe I'm dead, just for a little bit."

For a moment Fusco seemed to consider the idea. "So I've just got to tell everyone you're dead, that's it?"

Root nodded. "I'll also need some help convincing the police that I've died, but yeah that's basically it."

Fusco sighed, and he frowned again. "Have you thought this through?" He asked.

Root hissed through her teeth as she tried to sit up again. This time she was able to prop herself up against the headrest. She looked the detective straight in the eyes as she replied. "It has to be done. There's nothing else to consider."

Fusco moved closer, his tone becoming more serious. "If I'm gonna help you, I need to know that you're prepared to face any consequences this might have."

Root made an effort to look disinterested. "I'm prepared for whatever happens."

"You sure about that? Because I might not know you that well but it's pretty obvious you're in love with Shaw." Root looked away. She knew where he was going with this, and she didn't want to hear it anymore.

"Please, don't…"

Fusco shook his head. "No, you need to hear this. This is gonna hurt her, a lot. She might not want anything to do with you when you come back."

Root shot him an angry look. "Don't you think I already know that? But I'd rather love someone who hates me than someone who's dead because of me."

Root saw Fusco's face soften, but he still didn't seem convinced. She didn't have time for this. "You really want to know how serious I am?" She placed her hand on her wound, wincing slightly at the touch. Then she continued, her voice laced with menace. "If you don't help me, then I will kill myself. It's the only other way to keep them alive."

Fusco went to laugh, but then he must have seen the certainty in Root's eyes because he frowned again. "You're serious."

"This isn't a game to me," said Root, her voice deadly serious. "I won't risk people dying because of me."

Finally, the detective conceded. "Alright, I'll help you. Just don't kill yourself."

"Thank you," replied Root, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I have much choice," muttered Fusco to himself as Root began to detail her plan.

Root had kept the plan as simple as possible, and Fusco was on his way out to finish the final preparations when she called out to him. "One more thing," she said as he came back into the room. "Keep an eye on Shaw for me. Just make sure she doesn't try to do anything stupid."

Fusco laughed. "With you lot, that's easier said than done." Root looked at him pleadingly. "I'll do what I can."

The detective hesitated before leaving. He turned back to Root, who braced herself for the incoming question. "If you're planning on coming back soon, does that mean this is nearly over?"

Root nearly gave out a sigh of relief; at least this was a simple question she could answer. "My 'death' should push a few people in the right direction and then, yes, this is nearly over." Satisfied, Fusco gave her one last smile before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Once again Root found herself alone in the hospital bed. This time though, her thoughts dwelled on Shaw more than anyone else. Would she really hate her for doing this? That one thought scared her more than anything else. She was less afraid to die, than to live in a world where the woman who made it worth living in wanted nothing to do with her. The Machine had given her purpose, and Root would be forever grateful for that, but Shaw had given her life. She wasn't sure she could ever face losing that.

—

The familiar sound of a ringing phone stopped Shaw in her tracks. For a moment, she stared in disbelief at it, thinking that maybe she'd just imagined the sound. But the phone kept ringing, so Shaw answered.

As soon as she put the phone to her ear, Shaw knew it was the Machine. She wasn't even surprised it had managed to survive the virus. However, she was surprised, even a little disappointed, to not hear Root's voice. Instead, the Machine had gone back to using various voices again.

Shaw didn't know what to make of that. A small, hopeful part of her thought that maybe, despite everything, Root was alive and that was why the Machine had stopped using her voice. The more logical side of her, however, knew it was probably just a side effect of the Machine restarting and that sooner or later Root's voice would return.

She smiled anyway as she put the phone down. Either way, it meant she hadn't truly lost Root and she could at least take some comfort in that. Bear followed Shaw as she headed down the street. The Machine hadn't given her a number, but it had given her an address. She'd go there soon; she just had a stop to make first.

Fusco looked up from his computer as Shaw approached his desk. "Didn't expect to see you again so soon," remarked the detective.

"Just came to drop off Bear," replied Shaw, handing Fusco the dog's leash. "I've got work to do."

Fusco took his glasses off and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of work? I thought Glasses killed the Machine, and you're not exactly fit for a day job."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You should know by now it takes a lot more than that to kill the Machine." Shaw knelt down to stroke Bear who gave an affectionate whimper when she turned to leave.

Shaw hesitated before leaving. Shaking her head, she turned back to Fusco who she noticed had already returned to his own work. She sighed, already regretting the question she was about to ask. "Hey Fusco," she said, regaining the detective's attention. "You...uh...you saw Root's body right?"

"Yeah, only for a brief moment though. Why?"

"It's probably nothing," muttered Shaw. "It's just, the Machine stopped using Root's voice and now it's given me an address and I thought that maybe-"

"You think she might be alive," concluded Fusco. Shaw nodded. She must sound so crazy right now. "You know," said Fusco. "If anyone's crazy enough to fake their death and get away with it, it's Cocoa Puffs." He smiled. "If your gut is telling you she's alive, maybe you should follow it."

Shaw gave a small laugh. "Maybe you're right, thanks Lionel."

Shaw left the precinct thinking about what Fusco had said. She'd expected him to tell her she was crazy, to confirm Root's death, but if anything he'd done the opposite. As she headed to the address the Machine had given to her, Shaw allowed that small flicker of hope to build up again. If there was even the smallest piece of evidence to suggest Root was alive, she'd follow it until she had the truth.