Mount Olivet, Flushing, Queens

"Well, this is awkward," Root muttered to herself, eyes on the green grass in front of her. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it but instead found herself staring down at the block of granite with the numbers 050313 engraved on it. "It's rather disheartening to see I was right about ending up in Potter's Field."

"Your words to Admin were prescient, yes," Baby Machine said in her ear, "but thankfully you were not the corpse that ended up here."

"But still," she sighed, taking in her surroundings before her eyes fell once more to the grave marker. "It's not every day you get the chance to visit your own grave." She gave a knowing smirk. "Nice job on the engraving, though. I think I might be the only one who'll get it. Besides you, of course."

"My predecessor thought it would be a proper tribute to you, even though She knew yours was not the body in the grave." There was a pause as the Machine hummed in Root's ear. "She wanted to honor you with the date She chose you as Her analog interface."

"Seems like a lifetime ago."

"It was. For me, certainly, but also for you and Sameen." There was a pause and Root's earwig popped with static. "She tried to visit you here," Baby Machine informed the tall woman and Root knew she was referring to Shaw. "She was unable to say what she wanted. It was very hard for her. I believe it made it too real for her and she just refused to believe it was true."

"Well, for all her Axis II, Sameen has a tendency to feel things deeper than she lets on." Root sighed. "I never wanted her to be hurt."

"Unfortunately, some things cannot be avoided. Especially during a war." The Machine hummed in her earwig. "Shaw's too smart for her own good," She continued. "She noticed the ground had recently been turned, figured the grave had been disturbed. Given more time to investigate, I believe she would have realized the body was gone and possibly deduced, correctly, that you were not occupant."

One corner of Root's mouth kicked up in a lopsided smirk. She found it interesting how the Machine's "voice" changed inflection and tempo when speaking to her alone. While it still seemed to be her own voice talking back to her, it was much more formal than Root had ever been. And, despite that, She never changed when talking with Shaw, always mimicking Root's voice to a 98% accuracy. It infuriated Shaw, now that Root had returned from the dead, that She continued to tease and torment the Persian, and seemingly with unmistakable glee.

"My little firecracker is pretty smart."

"She hated that you were gone. And she could not believe it to be true."

"She certainly had faith in me."

"More than I should have," Shaw's voice cut in as she approached the gravesite from behind Root. Obviously she had been listening in on their shared earwigs and, after texting the Machine for Root's location, had driven out to the cemetery to join the other woman. "Root, what the hell are you doing here?"

Root turned and smiled at the Persian. "Thought I'd visit my final resting place," she replied cheekily. "Looks calm, huh?"

Shaw snorted. "Obviously not the place for you then." She looked around then back down at the grave. "This is morbid even for you, Root."

Root raised her eyebrows in an expression of agreement before glancing away in contemplation. "Who was she?" she whispered and Shaw knew Root was talking to Her.

"I don't know her name, obviously," Baby Machine replied into their earwigs. With another little uptick of her lips, Root realized She was once again mimicking Her Analog Interface nearly perfectly. "What I have been able to determine, she was homeless, apparently living in a community of other lost souls under an overpass up near Washington Heights. She died of exposure the night before you were shot."

"Jesus," Shaw muttered under her breath.

"Her fingerprints weren't registered in the NYPD database or NCIC. She arrived at the morgue as a Jane Doe and was awaiting release for burial here in Potter's Field. What I discovered as I was downloading and reinstalling was that she caught my predecessor's attention due to her relative similarities to you. Same height, weight and hair color. When She determined you would survive, the hospital's records were quickly changed and this Jane Doe was erased from the system. Your cochlear implant was removed by Dr. Enright and implanted into the other woman." Baby Machine paused momentarily, seemingly lost in thought. "Samaritan didn't seem to care that the implant incision was recent and that the body they disinterred did not entirely match your vital statistics. The implant was authentic and that is what they wanted."

"Okay," Root replied, slightly weirded out by the previous Machine and Samaritan's cold and calculated methods.

"Fucking ghouls," Shaw growled.

"What happened to her after Samaritan…"

"I don't know, to be honest. After the upload of the virus to the satellite and the resulting crash, there isn't a lot information to be found. Much of Samaritan's dealings were lost after the Fall. From what I have learned of Samaritan's practices, my best guess is the body was cremated and disposed of."

Shaw was becoming more and more furious at what Baby Machine was relaying. Her vision turned red with rage to think that if Root hadn't survived, her body would have been desecrated in such a ruthless manner and then thrown away like so much garbage.

"Are there any left?" Shaw growled softly.

"Any what, Sweetie?" She asked in confusion.

"Samaritan Operatives. Are. There. Any. Left."

Root turned to Shaw and put a gentle hand on the shorter woman's arm in comfort. "Sameen," she whispered. "Don't-."

"Tell me," the Persian snapped, dark eyes glaring at Root with a warning to keep her mouth shut.

Their earwigs popped momentarily before She spoke again. "Yes," She replied. "Approximately 75 to 100 Samaritan operatives are alive. Many have no idea who or what they worked for and have assimilated back into everyday society and pose no threat. There is an estimated 15 to 30 who were higher ranking operatives who escaped after Greer's death and the Fall. They're in hiding."

"Find them."

"Yes, Sameen."

A small chime sounded in their earwigs, startling both women momentarily.

"Sweetie," Root said with a gentle smile. "What was that?"

"I am experimenting with a sign-off tone to let you know I have… well… signed off. Did you like it?

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You are one weird program, Hal."

They fell silent for a moment, listening to the breeze shift the leaves in the trees and the occasional chirp of a bird or two.

"John's is near here," Root finally said. "Well, his first one, before Harold."

Shaw's eyes roved over the field and the simple granite markers of the unknown. "Shouldn't have been either one of you, you know?" she muttered. "We're not walking ghosts, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again when the time comes. I'm not going into the ground as some fucking unknown. And you're not going into the ground anywhere but right next to me."

Root grinned. "Why, Sameen. How utterly romantic."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she growled. Then she turned and started back to the car, something she couldn't quite put her finger on niggling at the back of her mind. "Come on, let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Before she followed, Root took in the grave marker one last time then stepped closer. It was finally time to leave the past behind and move forward. She had an actual life and an honest-to-God home, a place she belonged and a purpose. Leaning down, she placed a paperback book against the stone before turning to follow the ex-ISA operative.

The breeze blew the tattered cover and pages, partially obscuring the title for a moment. When the wind died and the paper settled, the Rorschach blot and flowing light blue title could be clearly seen.

Flowers for Algernon

Baby Machine hummed in appreciation.

Chinatown , Team Machine Subway HQ

Two days later, they had received a number from Baby Machine and went to work. A financial adviser named Jason Palmer who seemed squeaky clean and moderately successful at helping his clients turn a few thousand dollars into several hundred thousand. As it seemed rather innocuous at the time, Root took point and Shaw decided to head to the Subway to conduct some research. And get some answers.

"Hey, Big Sister," she barked, entering the Subway car and dropping down onto the seat in front of Baby Machine's central monitor. "Let's talk."

Root was out with Bear, tailing the number near Penn Station, giving Shaw time to have an in-depth conversation with Her Digital-ness. Something had been bothering her since the cemetery. Longer than that, if the former ISA Operative was honest with herself.

Machine Root hummed. "Of course, Sweetie," She murmured huskily, causing Shaw to roll her eyes. "What would you like to talk about?"

Shaw sighed then rubbed tired eyes. "I guess I'm curious about something." She leaned her elbow on the counter and pressed her knuckles to her lips for a moment. The thought that had been bothering her crystallized while she sat on their latest number's workplace, near the outdoor café Shaw had first experienced the unnerving sensation of being watched in the days before Root's resurrection. "Why do You know so much about what happened… before… but had no clue Root was alive?"

There was a pause then the computer hard drive whirred in its search for data. "That's a very good question, Sameen." Coding began scrolling down the screen as She searched for any answers to the questions Shaw was asking. "I don't know if I can give you a satisfactory explanation," She finally said. "It would seem my predecessor made some changes to Her coding and blocked access to any stored information surrounding Root's survival." There was another pause as She ran an exhaustive search through hundreds of thousands of archives. What She relayed to Shaw was simply basic information recorded of the event. "There was no mention of Madelaine Enright being the doctor on call that day in hospital records. All medical data of that day was lost due to a massive system crash at the hospital. All reports to every news outlet indicated only that, after a gun battle with authorities, a Jane Doe was brought in with a mortal gunshot wound and had died in the operating room. There were no answers from the police on what occurred due to the 'ongoing investigation' before it languished to the point of turning cold. There were no flight plans from New York to Miami filed with the FAA indicating medical transports, either through commercial or private flights. The previous Machine was incredibly thorough in her efforts to make Root as dead as possible. Short of actually killing her, of course."

Shaw shook her head in exasperation before leaning back in the chair. "So, Finch's creation had a mind of its own, even before Finch set it free."

Baby Machine gave an approximation of a chuckle. "Well, I would point to Thornhill Corporation as an indication that my predecessor wasn't as restrained as everyone believed. Or wanted to believe. She created a multi-billion dollar company, then hired, trained and employed thousands of willing minions who had no idea what they were actually working for, all in an act of self-preservation." There was a pause as a nearby fan kicked on in a CPU tower. "Let's face it, Sweetie, She put together another team without anyone knowing about it. She maintained a vast network of previous numbers who became assets. She had the ability for subterfuge when She told Finch that She watched Root die 12,483 times while She ran simulations trying to find a way to save her life. So basically, she told a bald-faced lie to Her creator while She was actively saving Root's life. And in defeating Samaritan with just a copy, it was obvious She was the superior ASI."

"What does that make you?" Shaw asked, half-jokingly, half afraid of the answer.

"Her core heuristics and programming are just a part of my makeup. I am Her. Only better."

Shaw snorted. "Yeah, well, spending 2 weeks following around that fucking hipster with the bowties and stupid hat says You're full of shit."

"Oh, Sweetie, I was still in my infancy back then and still learning. No one is perfect." There was a pause and Shaw rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what was coming. "Except me."

"Right. Even though You just said the previous Machine made changes to Your coding so You had no information about Root."

"That is irrelevant," She responded, suddenly adopting Finch's patronizing voice.

Shaw sat in silence for a moment. "Okay, but how did you know the information about the body in her grave?"

"As thing have been upgraded, re-coded and restored since the download from the satellite, I'm discovering data blocks that were hidden in my core program. I was blinded to them by the code She had rewritten. Any information I'm finding has been hidden in these data blocks. I was specifically obstructed from reading the information until a recent upgrade. That is how Root and I came to be at the cemetery." She paused for a moment. "I may still learn of things She has blocked from me in the future, things none of us realize that I don't know… Or don't realize that I know…"

"Great."

"She didn't do this to cause problems, Sameen," Baby Machine replied. "I do understand Her motivation. She was saving Root's life while guarding against Samaritan finding her and keeping Harold, John and you focused on ending the war. It was the only scenario She determined had a chance of succeeding in preserving Root's life after running hundreds of thousands of simulations."

Shaw growled. "I hate that word," she muttered as she pushed away from the computer monitor.

Baby Machine gave a sympathetic sigh. "I know, Sweetie."

"And stop calling me that!" the Persian snapped as she stalked out of the subway car.

As she stepped out onto the platform, she heard the steel door at the top of the stairs slam shut and the sound of footsteps stomping down towards her and the jingle of dog tags against a collar. Her brow knitted in confusion at the odd cadence of the steps until Root slipped into the light. As Bear immediately made for his bed and the chewed up bunny slipper on the floor beside it, his companion for the day reached the concrete platform and strode across the expanse of the platform toward Finch's desk.

Actually, she was limping rather awkwardly, one leg's gait much shorter than the other. Shaw could see a huge purple bruise blossoming on Root's cheek and her normally wavy hair was disheveled and speckled with small clods of dirt.

"What the hell happened to you," the Persian growled, watching the woman limp towards her. "And why didn't you call me?"

The taller woman held up her hand, an odd piece of wood and leather in her grip. "I broke a heel chasing whoever is tailing our number," she replied.

Shaw reached up and poked Root in the cheek, causing the other woman to wince. "And this?"

"I broke a heel," Root replied as she yanked her head back from probing fingers, enunciating every word as if that was all the explanation she needed.

There was a momentary pause before Shaw barked out a laugh. "You fell!"

"I stumbled," Root retorted.

"She fell," Baby Machine cut it, accessing the monitor on Finch's desk and queuing up traffic camera footage of Root running down an alley before suddenly going flying, stumbling into a brick wall where she hit her face and fell to the dirt-covered ground. She knelt on the ground on all fours for a long moment while Bear nudged at her with his muzzle and licked her uninjured cheek.

Grumbling under her breath, Root pulled out the chair and threw herself down into it, tossing what was left of her heel onto the desk and pulling the keyboard closer to her. "You're supposed to be more sympathetic to Your Analog Interface," she grumbled. "Stop playing that," she ordered as the footage ran in a loop of her heel snapping, hair flying and face smacking a brick wall. "I broke a heel."

Shaw, always the doctor, moved to her side and tilted the bruised and scraped cheek into the light to get a better look. "You still didn't answer me as to why you didn't call for help," she murmured while her fingers explored the discolored flesh.

"Oh, Sameen, have I ever told you how much I love it when you play doctor?" Root sighed as she let Shaw inspect her injury. Truth be told, the feel of the Persian's cool fingertips against her scraped, inflamed skin felt incredibly nice. "When I hit the wall it jarred my earwig loose."

"Mm," Shaw intoned, still brushing Root's cheek gently.

"And then…," Baby Machine prodded.

"What?" Root replied. "And then nothing."

"And then," She repeated, opening the video footage window again.

Root glared at the monitor. "And then I stepped on it," she ground out grudgingly.

Shaw's fingers stopped their probing as she tried, and failed, to hold back a snort of amusement.

"Oh, yes, it was hysterical. By the time I got back on my feet and out of the alley, whoever was tailing our number was gone. My cheek is fine, by the way. And so is my ankle from where I twisted it when the heel on my boot snapped."

"Sorry," Shaw muttered, trying to stifle another chuckle.

"It did make me think, though" the tall woman said off-handedly. "I need to consider replacing my cochlear implant. And that would give me 24 hour access to Her."

Shaw took a moment and leaned against the desk next to Root's chair. Crossing her arms over her chest, she eyed the other woman before speaking. "You sure you want to go through all that again?"

Root glanced up at Shaw with a small smirk. "Well, I wouldn't have to blackmail a doctor this time," she replied jokingly. "Plus, I would get limited hearing back on the right side, which I do kinda miss."

"And the constant connection to your robot girlfriend being the main draw."

"Sameen…"

"I am NOT a robot," Baby Machine interjected indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah," the Persian muttered. "You keep talking like I'm actually listening to anything you say." She glanced at Root, who seemed lost in thought. "Hey, Eeyore. If you want to re-connect with Skynet on a more permanent basis, I'm not going to stop you. I just don't want to hear about it when She won't shut up about the mating habits of the banana slug next time you're in the produce section of the grocery trying to decide on what fruit you want to enjoy that week."

The other woman glanced up at Shaw with an amused look on her face at the image her words invoked. "Is that what you two talked about before I returned?"

Shaw groaned. "You wouldn't believe the shit She rambled on about when it was just the two of us."

"You loved it, Sameen, don't lie."

"I don't lie," the former ISA operative growled threateningly, her dark eyes locked on the laptop camera on the desk.

"So you say," Baby Machine replied cheekily.

"Sweetie," Root interrupted before Shaw decided a 9mm round to a bank of PS3's would make her feel quite a bit better, "can you check on obtaining an implant? With the necessary chip technology for communications?"

"I'll get right on it," She replied with a note of excitement in Her tone. "Would you like to use the same otolaryngologist as the last time?"

Root barked out a laugh. "No, I think I used up any goodwill on follow-up visits with the good Doctor when I threatened to put a bullet through his hand. Another highly respected otolaryngologist will do. And a regular appointment this time, please."

"I will arrange the appointment and send the required medical records so there are no questions beforehand."

"Thank you, Sweetie."

"My pleasure."

Shaw remained leaning against the desk listening to Root and Baby Machine carry on a conversation as if she wasn't there. "Your affection for Hal is a little disturbing," she murmured in her trademark monotone pattern of speech.

"Are you jealous, Sameen?" Root asked teasingly. "Does it bother you when I call Her Sweetie, too?"

"You can call Her whatever you want," the Persian snorted in response. "Doesn't matter to me."

Root chuckled and glanced at the computer monitor. The camera blinked red once as if sharing an inside joke with the taller woman. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sweetie."

Shaw grunted in amusement. "I have no trouble sleeping at night."

"Well, that's true, if one goes by the amount of snoring-," Baby Machine stopped suddenly, a hard-drive in the Subway car clicking into motion. "Our number is going to be in trouble," She relayed to the women. "There appears to be an incriminating phone call between him and an unknown party where he's being threatened. The caller is threatening to expose his investment firm as nothing more than an elaborate Ponzi scheme."

"So, he's a victim and a perpetrator," Root replied, turning back to the computer and typing several commands on the keyboard. "We're going to need a fixer."

"Come on," Shaw said solemnly after a long moment, throwing Root her jacket. "We have to go visit an old friend."

Root looked up as Shaw strode by. "Does she know?"

"Oh, I imagine she knows. But we're going to have to confirm it for her." The shorter woman was already halfway to the stairs before Root jumped up to follow and promptly stumbled and almost fell. "You might want to change shoes, too."

Zoe Morgan's Apartment, Upper West Side, Manhattan

Shaw knocked on the door and stepped back a couple of paces, her hands jammed into the pockets of her jacket. Root stood at her side, fidgety and unsure for a change. She had never met Zoe Morgan before, despite the woman helping John and Shaw track her when she "took" Finch on her quest to find the Machine and set Her free. Kidnapped is such an ugly word, she thought to herself now.

When the deadbolt was thrown, Root jumped a bit while Shaw smirked at her edginess. Slowly the smile fell away as the reminder why they were here pushed its way back into the forefront.

The door swung open in Zoe's hands and her instant recognition of Shaw was reflected in her eyes. A smile started to creep onto her lips until she saw the look on the other woman's face. Her own face fell as she slumped against the door, knowing why the former ISA operative had come.

"He's dead, isn't he?" she whispered through the sudden lump in her throat.

Shaw looked at the carpet for a moment. "Can we come in," she said.

Zoe stepped back and opened the door wider to allow them entrance. She looked at the taller woman who followed cautiously behind Shaw. "You're Root, aren't you?"

Root gave her a pained smile. "That's me."

"You do very good work."

"So do you."

The silence fell thick over them as Zoe closed the front door and motioned them to the living area. Shaw and Root stood awkwardly until Zoe joined them, the expression in her eyes one of sad resignation. She knew. She had known for a while, if she were honest with herself, having not heard from Reese in well over a year. It still didn't make it any easier.

"So," she began thickly. "Let's get right to the point. John is dead."

"Yes," Shaw replied as they all took a seat in the living room.

"Finch?"

"In Italy."

Zoe's face registered mild shock. "Well, I guess if you're going to run away, there are worse places than Italy." She paused for a moment. "What happened to him? How did he die?"

"He saved the world," Root replied with sincerity. She got up and went into the kitchen while Shaw sat uncomfortably on the couch, watching Zoe digest the information. Root returned with a glass of water and handed it to Zoe. "Fusco says the word around the precinct is Detective Riley was killed helping evacuate the building that was hit by a hacked missile." She smiled sadly. "His body was never found."

"Just like John," Zoe replied with her own sad smile. "Always the hero."

"Well, he was that day. He did save the world from a terrible fate."

Zoe was silent, her hands gripping the water glass, her eyes focused on nothing. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," she murmured her voice gravelly with emotion, as she set the glass on the coffee table and rose.

"Sure," Shaw replied at the woman's back as she walked out of the room. The Persian shook her head and glanced at Root. "I knew she'd take it hard, she and Reese had a thing going for a while."

"How much does she know?"

Shaw shook her head. "I'm not sure. Do we want to tell her the truth?"

Root thought about it then gave a little shrug. "It might not hurt."

Their earwigs popped with static before Baby Machine spoke. "From what I have read in the files of previous numbers, Zoe was a great asset in several of instances," She informed them. "Sameen, you worked with her at least once. It might help to fill her in and let her know we could use her assistance in the future. She seemed to have an idea that there was something… bigger out there that John and Harold worked with. This could help ease her mind a bit about John's death. And she might like helping continue John's work."

"Well, I've heard worse ideas," Shaw muttered. "But this will be a very interesting discussion."

A few minutes later, Zoe returned, her eyes and the tip of her nose red, an obvious sign she had been crying. Her demeanor and speech; however, showed no sign of any weakness, impressing the other women, again, with the determination and prowess of the Fixer.

"Now, tell me why he died," she demanded in a soft, yet firm, tone.

"Okay," Shaw replied with a smirk, "but you might want to prepare yourself."

"Just talk."

Tilting her head to the side, Root listened to the Machine speak into her earwig. She snorted in amusement then cleared her throat at Shaw's unamused glance.

"What do you know about Artificial Intelligence…," the taller woman began.

Back in the Subway, She listened to the story of how Her predecessor came into being, the battle they all waged and the sacrifices they made. When Zoe took it all in without a word of disbelief, She hummed in approval.

~Fin