A/N: I honestly didn't expect this level of enthusiasm to this story. Anyway sorry for the long wait with this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is certainly welcome.
Archival File. Date: 1 week after attack. Location Cell block 6. Detainee: Sameen Shaw
Shaw was cold. The cell they had her in was devoid of any decorations or windows to look through. Its four metal walls the coffin Decima had buried her in at least a week ago. She was having difficulty keeping track of the passage of time. Ever since her brief visit from Grier she had been left alone. No one came to gloat or question her about her associates. The only indication that they wanted her alive was the tray of food that was shoved through a slot set midway up on the door. If she did not catch it then the food fell to the floor since her captors had little care about her health or wellbeing. Each tray was Styrofoam and was never collected.
Everything she had on her when she was captured was taken from her. Her guns, her knives, even the clothes on her back. Sameen Shaw was huddled up in a corner of the room with her arms wrapped around her bare body. She refused to let them know how uncomfortable she truly was and it was constantly taking more and more of her little energy to keep the violent shivers at bay.
Her breathing was shallow and raspy. Sameen's mind drifted back to that last kiss she had shared with her lover. A single kiss that along with her training was helping her to remain strong. As she erupted once more into a violent coughing fit that left her gasping for air she allowed herself to briefly wonder if she would every see the others again.
Over a year ago she had made the excuse to a number that she was emotionally damaged. Unable to really feel or experience emotions. Truth was while she felt them not as strongly as others might they were still there. She had just become adept at locking them away and pretending they did not exist. Yet as her captivity stretched on she found herself digging through her memories and pulling out selected bits and allowed herself to experience the warmth of love and caring that she help felt and experience since she had been saved by Harold Finch and Mr. Reese. Those two were family to her, them and the big lovable dog Bear. But the memories she cherished most were those of the mousy haired brunette Root.
A woman that she had started out hating and found herself inexplicable caring for and eventually loving. With all the time she had now to think Shaw found herself looking back and regretting the decision not to pursue things with the woman earlier. The spark of attraction and love had been there for a long time. Hell more than once Root had put herself out there. All but thrown herself at Shaw and been rebuffed every time. Root was the one she missed most of all and had been running various scenarios of escaping and making her way back to the woman. She cling to that hope like survivor of a shipwreck lost adrift at sea with only a life preserver keeping her from death cold embrace.
Shaw knew she was being observed. She suspected that Decima was going to great pains to deprive her of human interaction. They were smart enough to know that mere torture would not work on her. She was too well prepared for it. Both from her life in the military, her time spent working for Control as part of Northern Lights, and from her own emotional problems.
As she erupted into another coughing fit, thankfully briefer than the last, Shaw clutched her naked torso tighter and shivered. "Come on you bastards." She muttered. "How long are you going to keep me waiting?"
"Just how long are you going to wait before questioning her?" Martine's voice cut through the silence of what passed for a living room in the building that served as a prison for Samaritan's captives.
"I always suspected patience wasn't your thing. You always came off as more of the action type. Probably why Greer doesn't want you anywhere near Sameen." The speaker took a draw from his soft drink as he turned away from the large flat screen television.
"Yet I get results. All you've done this past week is screw up the time-table for when her meals are to be delivered and watched movies all day." She gestured angrily at the television where Shaw cell was displayed, in a small 6 x6 picture in the upper right hand corner, overtop one of the more recent adaptations of 'Sherlock Holmes'.
"Now that is not entirely true. I've also: slept, bathed, ate, and even taken some time to play videogames." The man gave her a bored expression as he turned back to his movie. "Now if you don't mind I am trying to watch this."
Martine gritted her teeth as her hand jerked towards her gun. The desire to put a bullet in the man coming back for the third time in the last two days. "Then tell me at least how you plan to interrogate her."
With a sigh he paused the movie and turned to face her once more. This time he was smiling. "I'm going to watch and learn. I've been gathering every last scrap of information on her Samaritan can find. With that I'll have a rough idea of how the woman ticks and what drives her. Physical torture is a wasted effort on her. That much should be obvious even to you. What is needed for Ms. Shaw is a different kind of torture. Be it either spiritual, mental or emotional. There is something or someone out there that she cares for, and when I find out what that is…" He gave Martine a toothy smile and turned away to restart his movie. "Now if you don't mind I have better things to do with my time than waste it on trying to teach a dog to obey."
'One day Greer is going to give me the green light to put a bullet in your head, and when he does I'll make sure your last moments are the worst of your life.' Martine thought as she stormed out of the room.
Archival Date: 15 minutes from after Root tazered Shaw
There was murmuring in the darkness voices indistinct and only loud enough to draw her attention for mere seconds before she could no longer focus on them. Root knew she should listen to them, but her mind felt sluggish and her body felt as though it was running on nearly dead batteries. Simply trying to focus on them left her weak enough for the cocoon of darkness to enshroud her body once more and pull her back into the abyss with tenderness reserved for a lover.
"…not everyone…weight…like you." The man's irritated voice cut through Root's dark binding preventing her from being pulled back into unconsciousness.
'That…..voice.' She thought tiredly. It sounded familiar to her, but the pathways running through her mental processor linking her to the databases where her memories were stored were still offline and refused to reboot in a timely fashion.
"Fus…arguing….hurry." A second voice. This one quieter than the first. Almost nothing more than a whisper. Yet there was an authoritative edge to it usually found in those used to having people unquestioningly following their orders. There was also a dangerous tone to it as if the speaker was growing tired of the other's insubordination.
'Suit?' Came to her mind. Though what relation that had to the man speaking or significance was beyond her at this time. Yet it was helping to get her mind back online. If she was a machine the quiet hum of a computer booting up and going through the regular startup process would be heard.
As her body and mind began to come back online Root became aware of her body once more. Her extremities tingled unpleasantly. Somehow they had all fallen asleep and were now protesting the return of blood flow stung like each had been burned.
'Not…burned…' Root recalled 'Shocked.'
"Mr.….co. Time is of….essence. …both need….before backup arrives." The third man's voice held a level of respect and calm to it. Belonging to one used to acting as peacemaker and having to explain things to people innumerable times. There was a patience to it that the other voices lacked.
'Harold.' The name burned through her mind. The voice and name held more importance than either of the others. Root's mental processors were back online, but the various programs and applications still needed to be opened and accessed.
Root could barely feel much less control her body. She could tell that she was being carried even though she could still not open her eyes. The people were being gentle with her and appeared to be concerned about her well being.
As she was being set down Root's memory returned. Though hazy at first it became clearer rapidly. She remembered Shaw showing back up and meeting her at a bar the two of them talking briefly before heading into an alleyway. Then Shaw had attacked her and she had been forced to tazer the woman and herself.
'What if she wasn't working alone?' Fear gripped Root as the very real possibility that she was being taken away by the same people who had captured Shaw. Sameen probably had not been working alone and had backup ready in case she had tried to run or to ensure that nothing looked to overly suspicious.
Using what little control and strength she could muster Root struggled.
"Hey hold still!" The irritable man from earlier spoke in a loud whisper. "If you keep struggling then I'll drop you."
"Detective what is the problem?" Harold's voice was clearer this time. Root could hear footsteps approaching and then "Ms. Groves you need to relax. You are safe with us. We don't have much time before more of Samaritan's operatives show up."
'Samaritan.' Root thought with a shudder. They were the ones she and the others had been fighting against for the last year. So many sacrifices made in desperate attempts to win what seemed more and more like an unwinnable war.
She was set gently down onto a flat cushiony surface. Within seconds a heavy weight pressed against her chest with a whine while foul breath reeking of fast food and kibble breathed heavily on her face. The comforting licks that followed allowed Root to let down her guard somewhat and focus on regaining control over her body.
It proved a difficult task. The tazer had effectively short circuited her nervous system and getting simple things like her fingers and toes to do nothing more than wiggle was proving arduous. It was not till a second heavy weight, which groaned in painful fear, was securely restrained in the vehicle nearby Root that she managed some control.
"Sameen." She managed to get out in a painful whisper before lapsing into a violent coughing fit that left her dry throat sore and croaky.
Another whimper was heard from Bear as he maneuvered his body to press against Root and Shaw at the same time. Intelligent as he was even he was having trouble understanding why two members of his family was in such terrible shape.
"It's alright Ms. Groves." Harold Finch's said soothingly. "We have Ms. Shaw safely secured. The Machine sent us a warning the moment she entered the bar. Unfortunately Samaritan somehow managed to scramble all cellular signals to this area so we couldn't warn you. We still aren't sure how she tracked you down or if she is operating alone, but we will find out."
He brought a bottle of water up to her mouth and she instinctively drank. It was not till he set it down that Root noticed the forlorn look in his eyes. She wanted to ask what it was for, but as the heavy feeling of sleep enveloped her she realized with her last thought that he had drugged her.
When she awoke Root was back in the subway station that served as the team's temporary base of operations. The hand that Shaw had slammed against the brick wall was wrapped tightly in gauze that was stained a dark red in several long stripes across the width of the dirty white material. Sitting upright she groaned as pain flared up in her back where she had been slammed against the wall of the alley by Sam. Putting a hand to her head Root winced at the sharp stab of pain that roared across her temple like a freight train.
Once the pain passed she got to her feet unsteadily. Determination at finding Harold and demanding to know why the hell he saw fit to drug her was secondary to locating Sam and making sure she was alright.
It took her a moment to register the noise. With her head pounding it had been easy to miss at first, but now that she was paying attention she could hear the commotion quite clearly. Loud barking from Bear could be heard overtop yelling, both male and female, along with the sounds of fighting. Root forgot all about her own wellbeing when she heard the distinctive sound of a plate shattering followed by a loud yelp of pain from Bear.
"What is…?" She began before seeing Bear come running out of the subway car that Harold used for an office. The poor dog looked upset and had his tail tucked firmly between his legs.
"Mr. Reese you need to hold her still!"
"Get your hands off of me!" Shaw gravelly voice was loud and angry and there was a muffled sound followed by a grunt of pain.
"Harold I still haven't ruled out the possibility of having kids someday, so if you could please sedate her before she renders me a castrate." Reese's voice was louder than normal for him and sounded somewhat pained.
Hurrying into the subway car Root froze midstride at the scene.
Shaw, feet a good three feet of the ground, was sending violent kicks at Harold. The look of undisguised hate on her face disappearing only for a moment to be replaced with a look of vicious triumph when she finally managed to land a good solid kick to the man's face.
There was a sickening crack and Harold's glasses fell. The bridge connecting the lenses broken cleanly through. Blood began to stream from the man's broken nose as he instinctively dropped the syringe that he had been holding to the carpeted floor.
Reese's clothing was torn in several places and there was a hilt of a knife sticking out of his side. What little Root knew of anatomy told her how lucky the man had been since Sam had aimed for a Kidney in the hopes of taking him down permanently. He had a tight grip around the struggling beauties midsection and appeared to be running out of the energy necessary to keep her well off the ground and somewhat helpless.
Shaw's cries of anger quieted for a moment as she raised an elbow across her body and swung it downwards in an arc towards Reese's face. Unfortunately for the dark skinned woman the move had been telegraphed enough for Reese to see it coming, though he moved to avoid it caused his grip to slacken just enough to allow Shaw to squirm free, minus the shirt she had worn.
With honed reflexes she yanked the knife out of Reese. Shifting it down so the back of the blade was against her forearm she spun and lashed out at where Harold had been standing. She was momentarily surprised when her strike was blocked by Root.
The taller woman had acted without thinking and put herself between Harold and the woman she loved. Seeing what her lover intended she had stepped in close and had managed to get an arm up stopping Shaw's arm mid-swing. "Sameen what the Hell is wrong with you! We're your family! Don't you even care about us anymore? Don't you even love me anymore?" Her eyes burned with tears as she looked at the woman's face.
Instead of the usual stoic expression her Sameen wore a twisted grimace. Her nostrils were flaring and her teeth were clenched so tightly that for a moment Root feared they would crack. "You mean nothing to me bitch." Sam growled out flecks of spit flying out of her mouth and spattering Root's face.
Root sucked in air. She had gotten into her fair share of scrapes and had usually emerged victories. She had endured a few low blows and gut punches. What her love had just said hurt worse though and she felt light headed. As her mental faculties took a backseat instinct took over and she lashed out with her injured hand and drove three fingers into Shaw's windpipe. Not hard enough to crush it, but certainly enough to take the fight out of her.
Shaw's eyes widened in pain. Dropping the knife she collapsed to her hands and knees and began coughing violently. Helpless should could do nothing as Root picked up the syringe and jammed it into the side of her neck with a broken "I'm sorry."
A/N: Well that is it for chapter two. Please let me know what you thought of this. Feel free to ask questions, give feedback, mention concerns or whatever you so desire. Thanks for taking the time to read this.