Title: Breath of Life.
Author:
hotch_fan Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harold Finch, a bit of Reese and mention of Root.
Disclaimer: I don't owe Person of Interest or any of its characters.
Spoilers: 1x23 "Firewall."
Summary: 23 days. It was exactly 23 days today since John had found and rescued him from Root's clutches.
Notes: Please, be aware that while the wonderful
marylska was kind enough read through it, there could remain some mistakes, all my own of course, so feel free to point them out, I would really appreciate.
*****
Slowly, Finch limped toward the lone bench along the river, under the Queensboro Bridge.
Hands buried deep into his coat pockets, Finch sat down, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
23 days. It was exactly 23 days today since John had found and rescued him from Root's clutches, on that rainy and cold day. He didn't remember much of it, between the drugs she had given him and his poor condition it wasn't unexpected, but he remembers the cold; that sharp cold that made his whole body shiver, and the raindrops softly hitting against his face.
"It's okay, Harold. I got you."
"I- I am cold."
Finch's eyes flew open, his fists clenched so tightly into his pockets that his nails had started cutting through the skin of his palms. He shivered. Everything was still too real, too fresh. The nightmares that plagued his dreams were proof enough of it.
Almost every night, he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably, his mind filled with images so vivid and frightening that he couldn't even be certain if it had really happened or if it was just his twisted imagination. But it was worse when he was awake; the thought that Root was out there somewhere, waiting for the right moment to strike again was always at the back of his mind, even though John had told him he had taken care of her. He had not asked him how, but he believed him. He trusted him.
The rational part of his mind could understand it; knew everything was over, but the irrational part was waiting for her to appear out of the shadows, trap him when he least expected it and finish what she had started.
It was almost irrational, how in the few occasions he had left the library, or the safe house where John had taken him, he saw her among the crowd of people, just there. It made him want to run, go hide somewhere, but John's strong and secure presence at his side stopped him, reminding him that what he was seeing wasn't real.
John, who had barely left his side from the moment he brought him back. John, who hadn't pushed him to talk about what had happened, but wordlessly had let him know he would be there when he was ready to. John, who had tried to act as normal as possible around him, knowing he needed at least a touch of normality back in his life.
Finch felt the corner of his lips curl up. Just today, John had been reluctant to allow him to leave the library alone. He had been rather stubborn about it, but a glare and a firm but gentle 'Mr. Reese' had let him know clearly that the matter wasn't up for discussion, and here he was, outside alone for the first time since the whole issue with Root had ended.
He had not planned to come here, hadn't even crossed his mind, he had just climbed into his car and just... started driving. Head filled with troublesome thoughts, the next thing he knew he was stopping here.
Finch lifted his gaze, looking forward; at the tall buildings across the river, the peaceful water, the green grass under his feet. The place was quiet, as usual, and with no one around, as far as he could tell. The perfect place to get away from everything and relax, but it was also a dangerous place, hidden and away from people; the perfect place for an assault.
It took Finch everything he had not to stand up and get out of there. He drew a deep breath, running a hand over his face.
That's when he felt it. The distinctive weight of a gaze on his back. Someone was watching him, and not just anyone.
Feeling the tightness on his shoulders relax and his frown fade away, Finch reached into his pocket for his cell phone, dialing the familiar number.
"Hey Finch. Everything okay with your little trip?" John's smooth and low voice sounded into Finch's ear.
"Would you care to join me, Mr. Reese? I don't see a reason for you to stay in the shadows." Finch answered smoothly, letting amusement slip into his voice.
He heard what sounded suspiciously like a muffled soft laugh at the other end, before Reese's voice came back.
"You are the boss, Mr. Finch." John answered dryly, before ending the communication.
Cradling the phone between his hands, Finch drew a deep breath, holding it in for a moment.
He was not fine. He was far from being fine, but he was slightly better. He wasn't naïve enough to think everything would be solved easily or that it could ever be back to what it was before, after everything he had gone through that was just not possible, but he hoped things would get better, eventually.
One thing he was certain, for the first time in his whole life he was not alone, and he shyly, almost frighteningly so was relying on John now, even against his better judgment.
Feeling the breeze gently blowing across his face, Finch smiled.
*****