Grief Part 2 - Reese (part 2)
Title: Grief Part 2 - Reese (part 2)
Author: zootsuitzappy
Pairing/Characters: Fusco, Reese, Finch, Carter (hint of Rinch if you so choose it~)
Rating: PG
Summery: Whoever did this, was going in the ground.
Word Count: 1699
Warning: Major character death
Author's note: I finally finished it. THIS IS THE END OF MY DEPRESSING DEATHFIC FOR PERSON OF INTEREST. Please enjoy the suffering I've written. =3 Now I can comfortably move onto the two fluffy smutty Rinch fics I have planed~
(Edit: story exceeded limit, so have to cut into two parts, part one of Reese, if you haven't already, read the first part: Grief Part 1 - Finch and Grief Part 1 - Finch: Epilogue)
~
Lionel Fusco was at the location that his “friend” had texted him over an hour before. He was more confused than ever when it lead him to a closed library he didn’t even know existed. In fact, it looked like no one knew it existed. So of course “Mr. Suit” knew. Lionel couldn’t hold back a roll of the eyes at that thought. Nothing made sense with his “friend”.
He ascended the giant staircase like instructed in the text, and was surprised to find that the run down place didn’t look so run down any more. “What the hell?” was the most eloquently worded thing his mind could string together. A huge system of monitors connected to various computers, a few desks stacked with paper, and a huge cork board that was covered in numbers and articles and pictures and string connecting a number to at least one other thing. The whole place looked like a snap shot of some sort of movie.
Then he remembered why he’d been sent there. “Right, the letter.” But finding one slip of paper among this huge gob of it... was easier said than done. He’d been looking for at least half an hour when he decided to stop for a rest. There was only one chair in the whole room, a wheeled swivel chair that was just in front of one of the lowest computer monitors. He sat down in the only mildly comfortable chair with a huge sigh and leaned back. When he casually turned to the screen, he saw an envelope sitting right in front of it, with the name “Lionel” written on it. If he had started looking here, there would have been no way he would’ve missed it.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” He grumbled roughly, putting his reading glasses on and snatching the envelope with much more aggression than was strictly necessary. He nearly tore it in half to get at the folded letter in side it, but once he started to read the entire reason he was there at all, he sobered up quick. A frown swiftly made residence on his face, and only grew as he read on.
‘Lionel,
You’re a good cop. Let me tell you at least that much. You were like a lost puppy when I found you, but with some slight help, you’ve become a good guard dog. I don’t have many people I trust, Lionel. And I can’t exactly say I trust you with my life, considering all the times you’ve tried to kill me. But you can at least be trusted enough to do something that is right.
Like I told you on the phone, this will be the last you hear from me. And what I’m about to ask you to do is more of a favor than an order. I won’t be blackmailing you into doing it. I just hope you will anyway.
My... well I guess you called him “friend of a friend”, but he wasn’t in just one category. He was my employer, my partner, my coworker, my benefactor, and my friend. Due to a mistake I made, he wound up caught in an explosion. Sadly it wasn’t his first time seeing one that close.
Because of who I am, Lionel, I can’t do something he deserves more than anyone else in the world. It was his sense of justice and desire to help those in danger and need that saved me. It was his will and persistence that I got the chance to save innocent people, and put the bad ones out of commission.
He mattered more to me than anything. And even though he gave me the job so that I could be there in time... I wasn’t for him. Back to what I need of you. Bury him. Properly. I know next to nothing about his past, though I’m pretty sure he didn’t have any next-of-kin or family left behind. Strictly speaking Lionel, we didn’t exist.
But to me... he existed. There may not be anyone who will visit his grave, but I at least want him to have one. A nice one. There are a few credit cards on the desk, use them to pay for it. Since there needs to be something on the tombstone, at least put his name. It might not be his real one, but it was the only one I knew. Harold Finch.
P.S. Thank you.
John Reese’
Lionel just looked at the letter for a long time. He was glad he was sitting down, because of all the things he expected to be his “last favor” for them, burying Mr. Friend-of-a-friend was not one of them. Speaking of, that was a good question. Where was the body? He hadn’t smelt the very obvious signs of death, but that didn’t mean much.
He reread the letter two more times, but nothing in it said where the body was. Tempted to give a huff of annoyance but too shocked to do so, he got up and started poking around the other rooms on the floor. We he finally found Finch, he had to stop for a moment. He didn’t look dead... the bespectacled man was laying flat on a table that had been cleared hastily. A blanket covered most of him, and when Lionel dared to lift it, he saw that most of the man’s clothes were charred.
Lionel let his gaze become sorrowful, realizing that John Reese must have spent meticulous care that his best friend’s body was presentable but couldn’t bring himself to change the man’s clothes. With a heavy sigh, Lionel took out his cell phone and began dialing. One good thing came out of having once been a dirty cop, you knew contacts who knew how to keep shut in various fields of work. He never thought he’d need the morgue’s though.
~
Lionel glanced at the newspaper tossed carelessly onto his desk. His lips quirked in a rueful frown, the bold words glaring at him. “BUILDING EXPLOSION IN BRIGHTON BEACH. MANY FOUND DEAD, INCLUDING SUSPECT KNOWN AS CARL ELIAS. UNKNOWN CAUSE.” The homicide detective couldn’t help but mutter, “Of course the criminal gets the headlines. The real loss shoved under the rug.”
Almost shocked at his own words, he sighed and slide the paper into the trash bin to the side of his desk. His partner watched him with hawk like eyes. She waited a moment before speaking up. “Got a problem with today’s paper, Fusco?” She put the file she had been looking at down to bring her full attention to the detective across from her.
Lionel huffed a bit and returned her hard gaze, “Nah. Just wonderin’ who popped Elias. You know, who we have to thank for getting that psychopathic scum off the streets.” Carter looked almost shell-shocked for a moment at Fusco’s sharp response, but she merely glanced back down at her file and then fixed her focus on him.
“I think it was my guy in a suit. Wouldn’t be surprised if he added arson to his list of broken laws and felonies. He seems to vary in what he does.” She then tapped the file with a finger, and Lionel realized that he recognized the case. He had asked the detective to dig some info on the girl, though that was a week back. Carter was still a step behind him, even now.
Lionel was tempted to inform her that her “Guy in a suit” wouldn’t be bothering anybody anymore, but then he’d have to explain how he knew that. And he needed this job. So instead he got up and grabbed his coat. Carter looked at him questioningly as he grabbed his phone and wallet. “Going somewhere?”
He hesitated for just a second. “Yeah. Visiting a grave. What, you wanna come along?” The look he gave her was daring her to openly tell him she didn’t trust him. That she was suspicious of where he was going. He didn’t really care anymore seeing as he wouldn’t have to do any more favors, there was nothing left to be suspicious of.
She let out a deep breath and then it seems conceded. “No... I wouldn’t want to intrude. See you later Fusco.” Lionel nodded and mutter a good bye and walked out of the station. The cab drive to the cemetery was quiet, left him with his thoughts. Which were currently mixed. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to risk his life and job or if he was sad that there wasn’t a silent guardian on the streets. He was still in a slightly zombie mind set as he made his way to the fresh grave.
He stopped just in front of it, gazing at the black marble with the gold engraving. There was no date, no fancy words left by a loved one. No flowers had been laid there, not even a candle. The grave marker itself was simple, a black rectangle about four inches thick, nothing marking any sort of religion or affiliation. The only thing marring the smooth ebony surface was the engraving, the grooves that made up just a few words.
‘Harold Finch
The man who saw everything
and did what he could‘
Lionel smirked to himself for thinking of it. He figured it fit rather nicely to the man who was always watching, always listening, but who he knew nothing about. He gently touched the top of the stone, giving the grave a thoughtful look. “Rest well, friend of a friend. Where ever the heck you are, at least you’re not alone.”
He didn’t linger any longer and began walking back out of the silent cemetery. A light breeze blew past him and he glanced back on a whim. He had to blink, because he swore that he could see faint outlines of two men. One taller than the other. The taller one smirked at him as he gave the detective a little wave before putting his arm around the shorter. The shorter one of the two gave a stiff nod. Lionel blinked again. There was nothing there.
Author: zootsuitzappy
Pairing/Characters: Fusco, Reese, Finch, Carter (hint of Rinch if you so choose it~)
Rating: PG
Summery: Whoever did this, was going in the ground.
Word Count: 1699
Warning: Major character death
Author's note: I finally finished it. THIS IS THE END OF MY DEPRESSING DEATHFIC FOR PERSON OF INTEREST. Please enjoy the suffering I've written. =3 Now I can comfortably move onto the two fluffy smutty Rinch fics I have planed~
(Edit: story exceeded limit, so have to cut into two parts, part one of Reese, if you haven't already, read the first part: Grief Part 1 - Finch and Grief Part 1 - Finch: Epilogue)
~
Lionel Fusco was at the location that his “friend” had texted him over an hour before. He was more confused than ever when it lead him to a closed library he didn’t even know existed. In fact, it looked like no one knew it existed. So of course “Mr. Suit” knew. Lionel couldn’t hold back a roll of the eyes at that thought. Nothing made sense with his “friend”.
He ascended the giant staircase like instructed in the text, and was surprised to find that the run down place didn’t look so run down any more. “What the hell?” was the most eloquently worded thing his mind could string together. A huge system of monitors connected to various computers, a few desks stacked with paper, and a huge cork board that was covered in numbers and articles and pictures and string connecting a number to at least one other thing. The whole place looked like a snap shot of some sort of movie.
Then he remembered why he’d been sent there. “Right, the letter.” But finding one slip of paper among this huge gob of it... was easier said than done. He’d been looking for at least half an hour when he decided to stop for a rest. There was only one chair in the whole room, a wheeled swivel chair that was just in front of one of the lowest computer monitors. He sat down in the only mildly comfortable chair with a huge sigh and leaned back. When he casually turned to the screen, he saw an envelope sitting right in front of it, with the name “Lionel” written on it. If he had started looking here, there would have been no way he would’ve missed it.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” He grumbled roughly, putting his reading glasses on and snatching the envelope with much more aggression than was strictly necessary. He nearly tore it in half to get at the folded letter in side it, but once he started to read the entire reason he was there at all, he sobered up quick. A frown swiftly made residence on his face, and only grew as he read on.
‘Lionel,
You’re a good cop. Let me tell you at least that much. You were like a lost puppy when I found you, but with some slight help, you’ve become a good guard dog. I don’t have many people I trust, Lionel. And I can’t exactly say I trust you with my life, considering all the times you’ve tried to kill me. But you can at least be trusted enough to do something that is right.
Like I told you on the phone, this will be the last you hear from me. And what I’m about to ask you to do is more of a favor than an order. I won’t be blackmailing you into doing it. I just hope you will anyway.
My... well I guess you called him “friend of a friend”, but he wasn’t in just one category. He was my employer, my partner, my coworker, my benefactor, and my friend. Due to a mistake I made, he wound up caught in an explosion. Sadly it wasn’t his first time seeing one that close.
Because of who I am, Lionel, I can’t do something he deserves more than anyone else in the world. It was his sense of justice and desire to help those in danger and need that saved me. It was his will and persistence that I got the chance to save innocent people, and put the bad ones out of commission.
He mattered more to me than anything. And even though he gave me the job so that I could be there in time... I wasn’t for him. Back to what I need of you. Bury him. Properly. I know next to nothing about his past, though I’m pretty sure he didn’t have any next-of-kin or family left behind. Strictly speaking Lionel, we didn’t exist.
But to me... he existed. There may not be anyone who will visit his grave, but I at least want him to have one. A nice one. There are a few credit cards on the desk, use them to pay for it. Since there needs to be something on the tombstone, at least put his name. It might not be his real one, but it was the only one I knew. Harold Finch.
P.S. Thank you.
John Reese’
Lionel just looked at the letter for a long time. He was glad he was sitting down, because of all the things he expected to be his “last favor” for them, burying Mr. Friend-of-a-friend was not one of them. Speaking of, that was a good question. Where was the body? He hadn’t smelt the very obvious signs of death, but that didn’t mean much.
He reread the letter two more times, but nothing in it said where the body was. Tempted to give a huff of annoyance but too shocked to do so, he got up and started poking around the other rooms on the floor. We he finally found Finch, he had to stop for a moment. He didn’t look dead... the bespectacled man was laying flat on a table that had been cleared hastily. A blanket covered most of him, and when Lionel dared to lift it, he saw that most of the man’s clothes were charred.
Lionel let his gaze become sorrowful, realizing that John Reese must have spent meticulous care that his best friend’s body was presentable but couldn’t bring himself to change the man’s clothes. With a heavy sigh, Lionel took out his cell phone and began dialing. One good thing came out of having once been a dirty cop, you knew contacts who knew how to keep shut in various fields of work. He never thought he’d need the morgue’s though.
~
Lionel glanced at the newspaper tossed carelessly onto his desk. His lips quirked in a rueful frown, the bold words glaring at him. “BUILDING EXPLOSION IN BRIGHTON BEACH. MANY FOUND DEAD, INCLUDING SUSPECT KNOWN AS CARL ELIAS. UNKNOWN CAUSE.” The homicide detective couldn’t help but mutter, “Of course the criminal gets the headlines. The real loss shoved under the rug.”
Almost shocked at his own words, he sighed and slide the paper into the trash bin to the side of his desk. His partner watched him with hawk like eyes. She waited a moment before speaking up. “Got a problem with today’s paper, Fusco?” She put the file she had been looking at down to bring her full attention to the detective across from her.
Lionel huffed a bit and returned her hard gaze, “Nah. Just wonderin’ who popped Elias. You know, who we have to thank for getting that psychopathic scum off the streets.” Carter looked almost shell-shocked for a moment at Fusco’s sharp response, but she merely glanced back down at her file and then fixed her focus on him.
“I think it was my guy in a suit. Wouldn’t be surprised if he added arson to his list of broken laws and felonies. He seems to vary in what he does.” She then tapped the file with a finger, and Lionel realized that he recognized the case. He had asked the detective to dig some info on the girl, though that was a week back. Carter was still a step behind him, even now.
Lionel was tempted to inform her that her “Guy in a suit” wouldn’t be bothering anybody anymore, but then he’d have to explain how he knew that. And he needed this job. So instead he got up and grabbed his coat. Carter looked at him questioningly as he grabbed his phone and wallet. “Going somewhere?”
He hesitated for just a second. “Yeah. Visiting a grave. What, you wanna come along?” The look he gave her was daring her to openly tell him she didn’t trust him. That she was suspicious of where he was going. He didn’t really care anymore seeing as he wouldn’t have to do any more favors, there was nothing left to be suspicious of.
She let out a deep breath and then it seems conceded. “No... I wouldn’t want to intrude. See you later Fusco.” Lionel nodded and mutter a good bye and walked out of the station. The cab drive to the cemetery was quiet, left him with his thoughts. Which were currently mixed. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to risk his life and job or if he was sad that there wasn’t a silent guardian on the streets. He was still in a slightly zombie mind set as he made his way to the fresh grave.
He stopped just in front of it, gazing at the black marble with the gold engraving. There was no date, no fancy words left by a loved one. No flowers had been laid there, not even a candle. The grave marker itself was simple, a black rectangle about four inches thick, nothing marking any sort of religion or affiliation. The only thing marring the smooth ebony surface was the engraving, the grooves that made up just a few words.
‘Harold Finch
The man who saw everything
and did what he could‘
Lionel smirked to himself for thinking of it. He figured it fit rather nicely to the man who was always watching, always listening, but who he knew nothing about. He gently touched the top of the stone, giving the grave a thoughtful look. “Rest well, friend of a friend. Where ever the heck you are, at least you’re not alone.”
He didn’t linger any longer and began walking back out of the silent cemetery. A light breeze blew past him and he glanced back on a whim. He had to blink, because he swore that he could see faint outlines of two men. One taller than the other. The taller one smirked at him as he gave the detective a little wave before putting his arm around the shorter. The shorter one of the two gave a stiff nod. Lionel blinked again. There was nothing there.