[One minute, they're both lying in bed, Shaw's mind pleasantly hazy from alcohol, sleepiness, and the warmth of Root's body against her back. The next minute, all three of those things are gone when Root vanishes wholesale, blinking away as if she'd never been there at all.
The experience neatly cuts through both the tipsiness and the tiredness, and when Shaw swings herself out of bed and onto her feet, her mind is alert and racing. It's obvious what's happened: really, the biggest surprise is that this is the first time she's experiencing it. A long-running simulation like this one has to experience glitches and coding bugs. Now she just has to figure out how bad it is - and determine if it's likely to get worse.
Bear comes running into the bedroom, which is the first major relief. The second major relief is that all of Root's stuff is still here, from her tablets on the nightstand to her toothbrush and towel in the bathroom; in fact, a quick overview of the apartment (Bear, as ever, at her heels) doesn't turn up anything amiss at all. Okay, she tells herself, to the beat of her heart thudding in her ear. Okay, okay, okay. Root's gone, but the presence of her hasn't been erased. Root may or may not come back, but none of Shaw's memories are proving to be false or overwritten. Root may or may not come back, but Shaw isn't losing her mind. And that's a hell of a relief, it really is, but--
Root may or may not come back.]
One or two a week.
[She mutters to herself under her breath. It's the statistic she'd been given not long ago, an estimate of how many people vanish into thin air, and the sort of glitch that Root had obviously been made a casualty of. Snatching up her own tablet, she quickly scrolls back to the conversation and reads through it again. Backups, copies, reloading old data--
It probably won't work. She'd told Root that she wouldn't try again because she didn't see any reason to, and she'd meant it. But that was then and this is now, and if she can do something to reboot her tiny little portion of the system, when Root has only just disappeared and her data might not yet have been reallocated or overwritten - then it's sure as hell worth a try, no matter how unlikely it is to succeed.
She shoos Bear out of the room first, closing the bedroom door firmly behind him. And then she picks up her gun from the bedside table, holds it in her hand, and--
Root reappears, just as unceremoniously as she'd vanished. And Shaw, half-raised gun in hand, has a look on her face akin to that of a kid who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She may not do guilt, but apparently she does Oh crap, you weren't supposed to see this pretty damn well. She drops the gun, letting it clatter to the floor.]
[ Root is angry. She actually hasn't been angry very much since she's been here, not truly; she's been annoyed or impatient, she's disliked plenty of people, but anger is something she reserves for when she's willing to do violence.
The sentencing was cruel. It was cruel and pointless, and it won't teach her anything, and either they know that or the algorithm producing it is incompetent, and Root doesn't like either option. If she ever gets her fingers on the A.I.'s code again, this time she's going to try to make some changes.
But she doesn't have a lot of mental space to process that feeling before she's returned back to her bed, waking up with a gasp, heart racing. It's not at all like coming back to life was; that was aching and disorienting and gradual, the warmth of Shaw's body by her side, and this is abrupt. It's the ice-cold shock of waking up from a bad dream and pushing herself onto her elbows to get her bearings and seeing Shaw about to hold a gun to her head yet again. ]
Sameen! What are you doing--
[ Root barely knows what's happening, is still piecing it all together in her head. She lurches to get up out of the bed, stumbling to her feet. ]
You vanished, and since it had just happened I thought rebooting quickly might bring you back.
[There's an edge of defensiveness to her tone as she stands there, tense shoulders visible under the tank top she'd slept in, preparing to preemptively refute any concerns Root might throw at her.]
I'm not going to do it. But you vanished, and I didn't hallucinate it; Bear noticed, too.
[At least, that's how she's choosing to interpret the way he'd followed her around the apartment, sniffing non-stop.]
There's no quick reboot here, [ she says harshly, the angry thrust of her emotions bursting out like steam, ] we're stuck here, and this is the only chance I have--
[ Root stops. She forcibly cuts herself off, physically stops where she is, closes her eyes. She feels... a little dizzy, like maybe she really is dead-and-gone and Sameen is right, this is something fake or distant...
But no. It's real enough that she doesn't want Shaw shooting herself. That would leave her without her for a week, again -- it's not a quick reboot -- and as it is, she has to spend the next month without her, or face the consequences. Maybe they'd be worth it, but Root already knows letting herself get punished for killing them is not what will help Shaw.
She opens her eyes and explains bluntly, ] They brought me in for sentencing.
[When Root suddenly stops and closes her eyes, Shaw crosses the distance between them in just a couple of strides, studying Root's face hard and putting her hands on her shoulders to steady her. Waves of dizziness won't win on her watch; she's got this.]
Okay.
[She says slowly - tightening her grip, fingertips digging in.]
[ It's bracing to have Shaw holding her so firmly, it has the intended effect, and Root fairly wants to scream with the idea that she's about to give it up again. ]
Nothing awful, [ she quips, with a heavy sense of tight sarcasm. ] I can't see you for a month. No interaction. I have to let you learn independence.
[ It's such a ridiculous idea that Root lets out a hollow crack of laughter. ]
[The verdict is so not what Shaw was expecting that she has the exact same impulse. She tips her head forward and tries to muffle her laugh against Root's shoulder, not wanting to offend or give the wrong impression - but when she hears Root's own outburst, she stops bothering, lifting her face and revealing a grim smile.
It's a relief, in its own weird way. She doesn't like it, but she's glad that Root's not going to be tortured.]
[ It should be a relief to her, too. She's glad she didn't have to eat her own words in terms of how cavalier she was about the consequences. It proves that she does understand this place and she is making measured, informed decisions.
It should be a relief. But she just stares at Shaw, the muddled fuzziness in her head making it difficult to be rational. ]
What if this is the last time I see you?
[ What if either one of them disappear before the month is over? This could be the absolute last time. She's gotten so many second chances but Root knows she won't ever get a third. ]
[She can't say That won't happen; even for normal people, having time is never a guarantee. But it's also a possibility that Shaw is used to living with, so she's neither surprised by the question, nor paralyzed by it. She nudges her forehead against Root's neck in a way that she hopes is soothing.]
[ She closes her eyes. She knows that's fair. It's possibly the only true thing Shaw could say. Is there anything she's left unsaid? Root's called her or talked to her every time she thought she was about to die, tried to tie off those loose ends then. She can do it again.
Thinking it through, she realizes there is a second part to the conversation she'd tried to have before she died that never got resolved for her. ]
I've always thought that if you were a shape, you'd be a straight line, [ she whispers. ]
[Shaw decides not to tell her that she already knows. If they do get time, then she will eventually; she thinks Root would like the idea of the Machine passing on reassurances on her behalf. For now, though, she doesn't want to derail the moment, because she has some unsaid things of her own. For her entire life, she's always felt that there were words that weren't meant for her to use: that even if she could care for people in her own way, it wasn't appropriate for her to use the same language for it that normal people did, as if doing so would somehow sully or cheapen the feeling in its full-throated form. That if she went ahead and used those words anyway, she'd be called out for being a fraud, and rightfully so.
But in that same conversation, the Machine had told her that Root thought she was beautiful for her differences and deficiencies, not in spite of them. And she thinks that means that Root won't mind her being a fraud at all.]
[ Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't that. Root is surprised into a brief watery laugh, a couple tears escaping before she wipes them away and opens her eyes, at last practically falling onto Shaw to hold onto her in return. ]
I've had a few clues, [ she answers, thinking: you wouldn't sleep with me, because you took me seriously. You came back for me. You were wearing my jacket after I died. I'm your safe place. ]
What about you? Need any more clues from me, sweetie?
[ She's smiling again, eyes gleaming. It feels impossible not to smile with Shaw trusting her so much, right in front of her. And she doesn't think Shaw needs to be told directly but she's deadly serious about being willing to say it if she does. ]
[ She wishes it were that piercingly simple to her. But maybe it's like how it helps Shaw to hear what she believes about the simulation; maybe Root can let it help her to know that Shaw loves her and doesn't have any regrets. She can hold that to herself as a lodestone.
Normally she's not so quick to cry, and hearing Shaw acknowledge it out loud makes a few things fall into place. Matter of factly: ] I'm getting more disoriented the longer we talk. It's probably the simulation enforcing the sentencing conditions.
[ Shaw wouldn't make a promise she couldn't keep. Root lets that sink in and accepts the kiss, though it leaves her swaying, slowly sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. ]
[Shaw doesn't hesitate, nor does she take the time to pack a bag or gather up any possessions: she's been here for a short enough time that she hasn't accumulated much, anything she leaves behind will be waiting for her a month from now, and any basic possessions she needs before then can be acquired elsewhere. With the clothes on her back, her gun, her tablet, and her dog, she head for the door, and she goes.]
cw: suicide
The experience neatly cuts through both the tipsiness and the tiredness, and when Shaw swings herself out of bed and onto her feet, her mind is alert and racing. It's obvious what's happened: really, the biggest surprise is that this is the first time she's experiencing it. A long-running simulation like this one has to experience glitches and coding bugs. Now she just has to figure out how bad it is - and determine if it's likely to get worse.
Bear comes running into the bedroom, which is the first major relief. The second major relief is that all of Root's stuff is still here, from her tablets on the nightstand to her toothbrush and towel in the bathroom; in fact, a quick overview of the apartment (Bear, as ever, at her heels) doesn't turn up anything amiss at all. Okay, she tells herself, to the beat of her heart thudding in her ear. Okay, okay, okay. Root's gone, but the presence of her hasn't been erased. Root may or may not come back, but none of Shaw's memories are proving to be false or overwritten. Root may or may not come back, but Shaw isn't losing her mind. And that's a hell of a relief, it really is, but--
Root may or may not come back.]
One or two a week.
[She mutters to herself under her breath. It's the statistic she'd been given not long ago, an estimate of how many people vanish into thin air, and the sort of glitch that Root had obviously been made a casualty of. Snatching up her own tablet, she quickly scrolls back to the conversation and reads through it again. Backups, copies, reloading old data--
It probably won't work. She'd told Root that she wouldn't try again because she didn't see any reason to, and she'd meant it. But that was then and this is now, and if she can do something to reboot her tiny little portion of the system, when Root has only just disappeared and her data might not yet have been reallocated or overwritten - then it's sure as hell worth a try, no matter how unlikely it is to succeed.
She shoos Bear out of the room first, closing the bedroom door firmly behind him. And then she picks up her gun from the bedside table, holds it in her hand, and--
Root reappears, just as unceremoniously as she'd vanished. And Shaw, half-raised gun in hand, has a look on her face akin to that of a kid who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She may not do guilt, but apparently she does Oh crap, you weren't supposed to see this pretty damn well. She drops the gun, letting it clatter to the floor.]
I'm not gonna do it.
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The sentencing was cruel. It was cruel and pointless, and it won't teach her anything, and either they know that or the algorithm producing it is incompetent, and Root doesn't like either option. If she ever gets her fingers on the A.I.'s code again, this time she's going to try to make some changes.
But she doesn't have a lot of mental space to process that feeling before she's returned back to her bed, waking up with a gasp, heart racing. It's not at all like coming back to life was; that was aching and disorienting and gradual, the warmth of Shaw's body by her side, and this is abrupt. It's the ice-cold shock of waking up from a bad dream and pushing herself onto her elbows to get her bearings and seeing Shaw about to hold a gun to her head yet again. ]
Sameen! What are you doing--
[ Root barely knows what's happening, is still piecing it all together in her head. She lurches to get up out of the bed, stumbling to her feet. ]
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[There's an edge of defensiveness to her tone as she stands there, tense shoulders visible under the tank top she'd slept in, preparing to preemptively refute any concerns Root might throw at her.]
I'm not going to do it. But you vanished, and I didn't hallucinate it; Bear noticed, too.
[At least, that's how she's choosing to interpret the way he'd followed her around the apartment, sniffing non-stop.]
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[ Root stops. She forcibly cuts herself off, physically stops where she is, closes her eyes. She feels... a little dizzy, like maybe she really is dead-and-gone and Sameen is right, this is something fake or distant...
But no. It's real enough that she doesn't want Shaw shooting herself. That would leave her without her for a week, again -- it's not a quick reboot -- and as it is, she has to spend the next month without her, or face the consequences. Maybe they'd be worth it, but Root already knows letting herself get punished for killing them is not what will help Shaw.
She opens her eyes and explains bluntly, ] They brought me in for sentencing.
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Okay.
[She says slowly - tightening her grip, fingertips digging in.]
What was the verdict?
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Nothing awful, [ she quips, with a heavy sense of tight sarcasm. ] I can't see you for a month. No interaction. I have to let you learn independence.
[ It's such a ridiculous idea that Root lets out a hollow crack of laughter. ]
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It's a relief, in its own weird way. She doesn't like it, but she's glad that Root's not going to be tortured.]
I'm still going to be here, though.
[She says, giving Root's shoulders a squeeze.]
It's gonna be okay.
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It should be a relief. But she just stares at Shaw, the muddled fuzziness in her head making it difficult to be rational. ]
What if this is the last time I see you?
[ What if either one of them disappear before the month is over? This could be the absolute last time. She's gotten so many second chances but Root knows she won't ever get a third. ]
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You got anything that's been left unsaid so far?
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Thinking it through, she realizes there is a second part to the conversation she'd tried to have before she died that never got resolved for her. ]
I've always thought that if you were a shape, you'd be a straight line, [ she whispers. ]
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But in that same conversation, the Machine had told her that Root thought she was beautiful for her differences and deficiencies, not in spite of them. And she thinks that means that Root won't mind her being a fraud at all.]
I, uh-- you know I love you, right?
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I've had a few clues, [ she answers, thinking: you wouldn't sleep with me, because you took me seriously. You came back for me. You were wearing my jacket after I died. I'm your safe place. ]
What about you? Need any more clues from me, sweetie?
[ She's smiling again, eyes gleaming. It feels impossible not to smile with Shaw trusting her so much, right in front of her. And she doesn't think Shaw needs to be told directly but she's deadly serious about being willing to say it if she does. ]
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[She murmurs, gently swiping a thumb over Root's left eye. She understands context clues, she knows that these are happy tears, but all the same--]
I'm good, Root. If I disappear, or you disappear, I've got no regrets.
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[ She wishes it were that piercingly simple to her. But maybe it's like how it helps Shaw to hear what she believes about the simulation; maybe Root can let it help her to know that Shaw loves her and doesn't have any regrets. She can hold that to herself as a lodestone.
Normally she's not so quick to cry, and hearing Shaw acknowledge it out loud makes a few things fall into place. Matter of factly: ] I'm getting more disoriented the longer we talk. It's probably the simulation enforcing the sentencing conditions.
[ Which means she needs to leave. ]
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[Shaw says, stepping back immediately and dropping her hands from Root's shoulders.]
I'm already dressed, and this was your stolen apartment first. And Bear--
[She looks down at him by her side, his tail wagging expectantly.]
He can go back and forth between us, right? You don't get disoriented around him?
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I don't know yet, but don't bother. He should stay with you. I'll feel better if I know you have him with you.
[ This is blatant manipulation in that Root thinks her feelings will hold some sway here, but it's also true, and she follows it up with a flinty: ]
No hard resets. Promise me.
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Promise.
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Okay, [ she breathes. ] Get out of here, then.
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