[ 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.]
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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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