Chapter II.
You wake abruptly in a sheen a sweat. You can feel Root's hands clambering to grab a hold of your arms. You shake her off and move to sit at the edge of the bed. Involuntarily your fingers reach up to graze the area behind your ear. That's right. It's gone. You feel her hand on your shoulder and question whether to turn around and face your weakness.
"I'm here. Listen. . ." She's behind you now, holding you from behind.
"I'm not going anywhere." Her hand is between your breasts and reaching to rest on your heart. Her head now laying on the crevice of your shoulder and neck. Your breathing stabilizes and you regain yourself. You move slightly and she flinches.
"Let's just sleep, yeah?" You say. You can feel her nod against your shoulder and you follow her back into bed. She falls asleep soon thereafter but you can't. Your body still feels alert. So you lie there and listen to the sound of her breathing and close your eyes to think about the good times before Samaritan stole your life away. If there's anything that you know for sure, its that time has changed a lot of things, including you.
Your tolerance to torture was put to the test more than when you were training for the ISA. Though you did survive, it was maddening to reinhabit your body after you'd killed yourself time after time in simulation. It doesn't feel like you survived. Maybe part of you did, but definitely not all of you. After sacrificing yourself for Root repetitively in simulation you began to realize something inside you that you couldn't quite explain. You couldn't kill her. She was safe. She's the safest part of your world and there's this feeling of anguish in the pit of your stomach every time you'd find her. She was always there; dug deep into the burrows of your conscious.
Your stomach rumbles.
"Mm." You look over to Root, she's still fast asleep. You nudge her shoulder in attempt to wake her.
"Root." You nudge again. "It's late. Come on." She turns over and drapes her arm over your abdomen.
"Just a little more." She sighs sleepily.
"I'm hungry." Her eyes open and her body stiffens to stretch. You roll your eyes and sit up. You get up and move to the kitchen. Lights first, you think. As you make your way over to the cupboards you notice dishes in the sink and a bowl of apples on the counter. Has she been staying here? You open the fridge door to find actual food and beer. A minimal amount but still there. Next is the freezer. Meat. That's more like it, you think.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to impose. I just needed some source of reprieve while. . . you know." You close the freezer door and turn to face her. The soft tendrils of her hair grazing her cheeks.
"You hungry?" You ask, determined to avoid discussing your absence.
She moved to sit down and nodded. She's wearing those goddamn slippers, you notice. Bunny ears poking out from behind the counter.
"Yeah, but sit. You shouldn't be up and roaming. There's a lot of rest your body needs in order for you to—" Root explains before you cut her off.
"No. I've had enough for today. Where's Finch and Reese?" You spit out annoyed.
"They're at the library. They came when you first came home but you had already fallen asleep. In fact, Finch has entrusted me to take care of you while you recover." Before you can ask, she says, "Bear is with Finch. I let Finch take him just for a couple of days."
"Mm." You turn and pull the meat from the freezer. Steak. Its been months since you've been able to have any type of meat or decent food for that matter.
Root interrupts your thoughts by grabbing your arm a little more forcefully than you'd expect.
"I think that you need to learn how to listen more. You should be bedridden. In fact, you should feel lucky that I'm letting you get out of bed."
"I'm not a fucking child, Root, and I'm not incapable of doing things myself." You huff looking up to her.
"I didn't say that." Her voice goes soft and her eyes fall to the table. Great. Now you've done it. Fuck, Shaw, she's only trying to help.
"I'm sorry. I just don't want to sit here and do nothing. I've had enough of that. I just need. . . I need to shoot someone." Root's eyes come up to meet yours. She can feel the anger radiating off of you and you know it. You want vengeance. You want to destroy everything in your path. Maybe that'll make you feel better again. Make you feel like you.
"You know you can't, Sameen. Samaritan has nearly every operative looking for you. It's bad, Sam." Tears threatening to form in her eyes. "Its best that you stay here. You need more time to gain your strength back before you go off kneecapping people again." She chuckles.
"I've missed that." You acknowledge. Root gets up and makes her way over to you.
"Don't worry. I'll be sure to take real good care of you," her lips are against the crook of your neck, "And if you're good, you might even get an extra work out every now and then." A static shock runs down your spine. Good ole Root. Never ceases to provide a sexual climate. Before you know it she's taken the steak from your hands and begun working in the kitchen.
You grab a beer and sit on the couch and turn on the TV. The Hallmark channel pops up on the screen showing the upcoming romance movies. Unexpected. You look over to Root to find her consumed with the preparations of the food. You didn't figure her to be the romantic type but you suppose these movies are just as cheesy as her pick-up lines so it equals out. You flip through the channels to find something worth watching.
"So, uhm," you clear your throat, "how long have you been staying here?" You didn't want to ask but your curiosity got the best of you. Her hands still for a split second before she responds.
"Not long. Consecutively, at least. Maybe a couple of days out of the week. It's easier to concentrate here." Liar. Instead of questioning further, you let it go. You toss the controller to the side, lay down, and close your eyes. You can smell the aroma from the steak Root is seasoning. Again, your stomach protests your hunger. You readjust your position on the couch and relax. Your mind goes back to working with Root. Side by side running through gunfire. Untouchable. Sometimes. Root is always needing a patching up but you don't mind. Even if she's being a little baby about it. You remember the first time you saw her dual wield and it sends warmth down your body. You remember her flashy smiles when she would flirt with you. You decide, if you're going to be out of service for however long it takes, that maybe it isn't all that bad.
