They say you don't feel the bullet that kills you.

Root doesn't believe that's true; maybe if you're lucky and the bullet hits its mark, then okay, you might die pretty painlessly. She can certainly think of worse ways to go.

But most of the time, that's not what happens. No, instead of a quick death, you feel the pain spread through your body as crimson seeps through your clothes. Stains that no amount of bleach can ever truly wash away.

She would know; she's been shot more times that she can count.

But maybe they're right, whoever 'they' are. Maybe you don't feel the bullet that actually kills you.

Because as Root watches Shaw fall, too far away to be of any use, fighting against the barrier which keeps her from running back as her fingers wrap round the wire separating them, she wonders briefly if Shaw felt the bullet pierce her skin. When she doesn't get back up (and she always gets back up, she always does, why was Shaw not getting back up, for God's sake, now isn't the time to play dead; but then she wasn't actually playing, was she) Root wonders if it had hurt. She hopes not. Shaw deserved at least that much.

Maybe, just maybe, Shaw didn't feel the bullet that killed her.

But Root certainly felt the bullet that ended her life.