[ Her expression tightens subtly, Root's usual devil-may-care attitude dampened and turned sharp like a concealed knife. She won't ask about the details but she does reach out and touch his arm again and say, with no trace of lightness: ]

Offer to throw anyone in the trash who needs it still stands.

[ Just putting that on the table in case he needs it. And if throw them in the trash is a metaphor for whatever needs doing-- murder, torture, extortion or long-term deceit-- well. Root's up for that, and she knows she can pull Shaw in with her, from boredom if nothing else.

Offer aside, she could say her real, meaningful death was from bleeding out, too, but that's not what she wants to talk about. Her features twist. There's no one else really she can think of to talk to about this that will get it in the same way Charles probably will, not get it and care, and Root is surprised to find she feels like she needs someone to care. Because it's not about her, not really; it's about Shaw.

And she can't stand hearing one more time that she should let Shaw go. ]

Shaw has died a lot, too, [ she says quietly, pulling her hand back. ] In simulations. I needed to test the system here, prove to her that it wouldn't be reset when we died.

[ Root doesn't regret it, but the weight of what Shaw's been through-- because of her-- has been a lot to carry by herself. ]