"Sam, it's me," Root called from behind Shaw, turning her pistol upwards in a gesture of goodwill. "I'm putting my gun down."
Shaw turned as Root placed the gun on the floor by her feet, her own pointed at Root. Root smiled and took a step forward just as Shaw fired, sending her falling to the ground in shock.
Blood erupted from her right shoulder and Root groaned in pain.
"Sameen…why?" she asked, the sting of betrayal obvious in her voice.
Shaw neglected to answer, instead moving closer and kicking Root's weapon away.
"I'm Samaritan now," she said, her features blank. "You know that."
"I thought it was just an act, until we could get to you," Root whispered.
"Now you know it's not." Shaw nodded to the growing pool of blood on the ground. "Might want to get pressure on that."
"You…shot me," Root said, disbelief flooding her cadence as blood wet her fingers.
"Not the first time," Shaw replied, turning on her heel. "Next time it'll be between the eyes."
"Wait," Root begged. "I don't understand. We left you that day at the stock exchange, I get that, but…" she trailed off.
"Samaritan patched me up," Shaw supplied curtly. "Gave me a nifty earpiece and my identity back."
"Shaw," Root pleaded. "If there had been any other way"—her mind flashed back to the explosion and Shaw's broken, bleeding body in the underground—"but without John, we would have all died if I'd tried to carry you."
"I told you to leave." Shaw's voice was emotionless, and Root still remembered the sob choking her throat as she'd stroked Shaw's hair one last time before Harold pulled her away.
"It was work for them or die, I get it," Root said. "But I can take you back to the subway now. We're in a camera dead zone."
Shaw chuckled mirthlessly. "Then what? Wait there 'til they show up to finish me off?"
"Not a permanent solution, true," Root admitted. "But Harold and I will work on getting you a new identity, I promise."
"This is more fun," Shaw said, and Root shivered at the violence dancing in those dark eyes. "I have a team, killing's allowed and I have a machine in my ear." She tilted her head slightly, and Root saw the device.
"Sameen, you can't mean that," Root insisted, her heart breaking. She grabbed Shaw's right leg with her injured arm despite the pain, desperate to stop her from leaving.
"Get off," Shaw said coldly, trying unsuccessfully to pull her leg from Root's grasp.
"Please," Root begged, her eyes watering. "We need you."
For a moment it looked like Shaw was going to come around. Then she pulled her leg free from Root's grasp and stepped on Root's fingers, pressing them into the jagged pavement like a cigarette that needed stamping. Root cried out, the combined pain from her shoulder and her hand too much to bear.
"Leave me alone," Shaw stated once more.
Then she walked away, leaving Root bleeding on the sidewalk, two of her fingers bent at an odd angle.