Note: I can still be in denial, right? Shaw on the merry-go-round broke my heart. I needed to write about it.
.esc
By AmethystB
...
It's still raining when she reaches the park but dawn broke hours ago. She hasn't slept. Hasn't done much of anything. Her body should be aching but she feels nothing. It's the natural way of things, for Shaw; nothing.
Devoid of play, the park lies dormant. Untouched in the spare light of a muted sun. She finds the merry-go-round and steps on, forcing a small push with her boot as she does.
Shaw closes her eyes, finally. Her body spins in place, a centrifuge of nothing.
She stays put when children's laughter echoes in the air. It doesn't bother her when they spin along with her. She is part of the equipment now, inseparable.
This must be what Root feels like.
They laugh around her. Don't ask her what she's doing or why she's there. The ease of acceptance for children is remarkable. Shaw is just there, playing along with them.
Root's dead. It happened yesterday. John said they were burying her today, would she like to be there?
It's a simulation. It's just a simulation.
Shaw touches two fingers to the spot behind her ear. This damn chip!
One of the kids, a boy, steps off to push. They go faster, faster. The others are cheering him on, goading him into anti-gravity.
We'll go faster and faster and then fly away.
The blur of the last few days passes Shaw by. There's a sharp pain in her chest when she looks at it too closely.
It's all a fucking simulation.
Something nags at the edge of her mind, the part where the truth is buried deep down. There's a crispness to the world now that doesn't feel like those 7000 illusions. Every sense is heightened. Being with her again was different to those 7000 times. Her touch, fingers tracing shapes. The feel of her lips against damaged skin. As real as the simulations felt nothing had felt like being with her again.
The world spins.
She should kill herself, that always ends the simulations. But Root is always there; that's the choice. Root isn't here now.
"Where are you?"
Her safe place means nothing without Root. The futility of what they do means nothing without Root.
Wake up, fucking wake up!
There's no waking from this. This is forever, and forever means nothing.
Shaw's mind wanders briefly to Harold and where he is. Maybe Samaritan will let her wake if she offers up Finch and the Machine. Isn't that Samaritan's objective? She'll wake and then escape, make her way back here. Root will be with her then.
The boy pushing from the ground stumbles and trips. The equipment slows as a young girl jumps down and helps the boy up. They smile and laugh, then push together for one final spin.
She's been numb all her life so it never mattered much to her when she put the gun to her head those 7000 times. When she'd done it again the other night it felt different. When Root put a gun under her own chin, Shaw felt panic.
That's not supposed to happen.
None of this was supposed to happen. She wants to say, Okay, game over! They can win if it means Root can be here with her.
She knows that can never happen.
Her world spins.