[Suspect tracking POI]Never alone

Finch looked at the pistol/gun in his right hand, the black and cold metal shell trembled with his hand.

He let out a miserable smile, not daring to look at the opposite building again. The coin-sized wound on his abdomen was bleeding profusely, and the pain almost paralyzed his nerves, but he couldn't stop limping.

"Good-bye" he sighed to the surveillance camera, opened the door, strode in regardless of his disabled left leg, and then closed it tightly, isolating everything outside the balcony.

Suddenly his mind returned to the past, and Harold closed his eyes, unable to take a step due to the pain of suffocation.

"Harry, I will never let you die." Root held a neurotoxin capable of killing people, but his eyes were full of pity and affection - this is what Ms. Groves is best at. She once said that she is just a Wrong code, even if you kill someone, you will not feel guilty, but Harold looked at Root's crazy and innocent face, not only couldn't hate him, he even wanted to block the scope of the sniper gun and lie in St. Mary's Hospital instead of her in the morgue.

Harold didn't have that chance.

He also has no chance of trading his stiff spine and deformed left leg for Nathan, or Carter, or Elias.

And Reese.

Most of all Reese.

Mr. Reese.

"Finch, are you there?"

"Forever, Mr. Reese."

"Finch, are you there?"

"Always, Mr. Reese."

Finch sat down slowly by the door, he clutched his belly, his palms were filled with warm moisture, he recalled all the scenes and all kinds of interesting things when he first met John, he opened his eyes involuntarily, but his face was full of bitterness.

Apart from the dark and lengthy corridor, there is only the sound of distant firefights outside the door.

"Mr. Reese, are you there? (Mr. Reese, are you there?" Harold asked softly.

"Always, Finch. (Always, Finch.)"

Harold smiled.

Reese was sitting next to him, his face as always smug and grim.

"Mr. Reese, it looks like our conversation was reversed." Harold closed his eyes slightly.

"No, Finch, that's what I've been meaning to say."

Reese blinked slowly, then turned to look at the pale Harold, "And right now, you need my company."

"Thank you, Mr. Reese." Harold lowered his head and smiled, and met Reese's light blue pupils again, "John, please tell me, are we dead? Or, are we still in the simulation of the Machine?"

"Finch, you need to ask yourself this, I'm just an employee in a suit who fights all day long."

Harold adjusted his sitting position to be more comfortable, his vision gradually blurred, and a buzzing sound sounded in his ears, "Mr. Reese, I think maybe I'm dying, and you are my consoling phantom."

"Maybe, after all, I'm not a psychological counselor who doesn't carry a gun to enlighten the dying person."

Harold smiled affectionately but politely, "Mr. Reese, in retrospect, we really never left the numbers and tasks, and just chatted aimlessly."

Reese shrugged mischievously, his voice still low: "Finch, you can't blame me, you are a very private person."

The air became quiet, although Harold had long been used to the quiet and relaxed mode of getting along when there was no number, and never opened his mouth to touch on private matters in order to comfort and understand each other, but now he regretted it.

"Mr. Reese, we have paid attention to so many numbers, so many victims and perpetrators, but we have never paid attention to each other. I feel very sorry. We are both victims and perpetrators. We have a tragic past... ...I just wanted to say, Mr. Reese, I'm keeping silent because I don't want to unravel your painful memories, I just...don't want to hurt you."

"Finch, metoo."

Reese looked slowly at Harold.

Harold felt overflowing sincerity from those deep eyes with slightly sad eyes hooked at the corners.

He was moved, but more powerless, "Mr. Reese, thank you, I don't think I should have involved you in the first place, or... I shouldn't have created the Machine in the first place, although now It became the only bargaining chip against Samaritan, and even seemed to win the war, but, Mr. Reese..." Harold looked deeply at Reese, "why...why do I think... ..I lost the whole world?"

Reese shook his head, he patted Harold's thin shoulder, and said softly: "Finch, you shouldn't doubt your Machine, although Root calls it God, but I think it is a part of you, although I don't fully believe it It, but I trust you completely."

Harold smiled lightly, "OhJohn, I'm sure you've said something like that before."

"Your memory didn't lie to you, Finch." Reese laughed, relieved and joyful, completely different from the usual stiff and weird smile, and Harold couldn't help but think in his mind - how long has it been since John laughed like this?

"And Finch, if it wasn't for you, I would have been lying in an unnamed grave with a job like this and a goal like this. Finch, I should thank you."

Looking at John's face that was exactly the same as in his memory, Harold was both warm and heartbroken. He held Reese's wrist tightly and sighed: "John, I think this should be our last face—and I imagined it On the last side, the reason why I can see you now is because I have too many things to say, I never thought that time is so limited, and it will come to the point of life and death so soon, even a farewell can't be done.John , you trust me so much, just as I trust you so much, I want to say, Mr. Reese, those numbers and those names are actually not important to me, only one important thing is to be able to save you , rescued my only friend, and the most successful thing in my life was not creating the Machine, but finding you among hundreds of millions of people."

Reese's brows trembled slightly, and his light blue pupils were covered with a layer of mist. He pursed his lips and grabbed Harold's wrist, very hard.

"Finch, do you know what I'm trying to say right now?"

"Mr. Reese, I'm afraid I can't quite guess what you're thinking."

Reese smiled softly, "Finch, I want to say that although I desperately want the "I" on the roof next door to hear what you said, I think even if I can't, I can figure it out myself."

"I suppose so, Mr. Reese." Harold flashed his usual coy smile.

"Finch, you know that time I was shot in the snow, waiting to die alone in the car, who brought me back from death?"

"Mr. Reese, I'm afraid you haven't said much to me about this."

"It's Carter."

"Oh, I guess so." Harold nodded, John still vividly remembers the trauma of Carter's death, "I've always been sorry about that."

"No, Finch, you don't have to be sorry, I mean, do you know why you're seeing me instead of Grace?"

"Maybe it's because Grace is alive and Mr. Reese you're dying."

"Finch you know that's not the case."

Harold and Reese paused, then laughed together again.

"Mr. Reese, I'm cold, I think I'm freezing to death."

"Finch, I've been through this, trust me, you're not freezing to death, you're just bleeding dry."

Reese leaned close to Harold, and took off his coat and put it on Finch. Although Harold knew that these were just fantasies in his head, he still felt the warmth.

"Thank you, Mr. Reese, but I want to ask, why don't you let me survive like Carter did?"

"Because I know what you think, and I know what to do to make you free. Carter is also like that. She knew that I didn't want to die at the time."

"Yes, that's right, Miss Groves died alone, I don't want you to die alone, and I don't want me to go through the pain of losing a dear friend again."

"But you don't want to disappoint me, so you hide behind this door and stay with me."

Harold twitched the corners of his mouth, a little sleepy, the warmth of his body was gradually replaced by the cold, and he had to lean against Reese to suppress the twitch of pain.

"Finch, Finch, wake up, this is our last and only heart-to-heart talk, don't let your drowsiness mess it up."

"Oh, sorry Mr. Reese, I woke up."

"Finch, are you still cold?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese."

So Reese had Harold lie on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around him in the coat.

"Are you feeling better, Finch?"

"It's much better, Mr. Reese. The human spirit is indeed a wonderful thing. I'm still happy even though I'm lying in an imaginary bay."

"Then let's continue the unfinished topic."

"Ok."

"Finch, you have to admit, you depend on me."

"Maybe that's what you said."

"And the reason why I think of Carter when I am dying is not because she is more important than you, but because I know that you are the one I protect, and I don't need you to save me, and Grace is the one you protect, so you Don't let her save you."

"Mr. Reese, Ms. Carter has indeed been working hard to protect you during her lifetime. I am very sorry, I am sorry that I did not become your protector."

"Finch, you can't change it, it's predestined, just like our parents are our protectors, but you can't stop him from aging and amnesia. You don't need to blame me and Root, you should start from this staircase Go down and go to the nearest hospital."

Harold couldn't open his eyes, but his voice remained calm, "Mr. Reese, it seems that you want me to live."

"Of course I want you to live, I'm just respecting your opinion."