Prelude
November 3rd
After the final battle between the Machine and Samaritan, Shaw had been trying to find her routine again. It was a challenge. Perhaps one of the biggest of her life. Spending months in captivity protecting your loved ones, only to have them ripped away in the eleventh hour. It all happened so fast; It feels like just yesterday she took down Root in the park. It feels like yesterday she shot and killed Jeff Blackwell.
The Machine had asked her to continue working, and even gifted her with a new base of operations, as well as an apartment in Brooklyn. Originally, the two were combined but Shaw requested a separate space. She needed some time away from this new situation.
This new version of the Machine still uses Root's voice. Sometimes when Shaw hears it, she thinks for a moment that she's actually talking to Root on the phone. That she'll be walking through her front door in a few hours, and that she's still...
Well, those feelings don't last long. There are days when she can't stand to hear her voice; it's a reminder of everything she fought for and lost; her failures.
But other times, on extremely rare instances, her voice is the only thing that keeps Shaw going.
So, every day she walks Bear. Every other day she handles a number. Once a month she would check in with Fusco, though her communication had been slipping. Phone calls were becoming emails, which became quick texts, which simply began to stop. She had to try and live her life.
Although... she doesn't really know what that means.
It's almost as if her body is functioning on it's own, like she is only a spectator. Stuck in some sort of low power, autonomous state. It reminds her of having awareness inside the simulations, and she doesn't like it.
Her days are beginning to blur together. She gets up, runs with Bear, and... suddenly she's on the couch watching the game with bourbon in her hand. The next day is the same, and the one after that.
It's been 156 days since Root was killed, and Shaw isn't sure how to go on living.