[ Charles is such an unfailingly giving and kind person, it seems like he should have a legion of people lining up to say how lucky they are to know him, but Root wouldn't be surprised to hear he doesn't. However cavalier she sounds when she teases him for being wholesome, she knows there is a fundamental truth behind being that giving and kind: that you get abused for it.

She's used to being guardian for Harold -- a guardian who argues with him, disagrees and respects him simultaneously -- who let herself change and be changed by him. Root already knows what it's like to care for someone who tries to take care of everyone else at any expense.

Sometimes she gets impatient or frustrated with it, but ultimately, it's that kind of mentality that had made the Machine. ]

What happened to Shaw, to your friend-- it's senseless. It's cruel. [ Root takes a breath, feeling an old, old anger at the unfairness and injustice in the world well up inside her and threaten to choke her, and she has to think about Harold, alive because of her, to salve it. ]

I chose my death. With the life I've led, a good death is a privilege. I was lucky to have it.