Person of Interest: Fic: PG-13
Title: Blood On His Hands
Characters: Finch, Reese and Bear
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 571
Summary: After the events of 3x09, Finch and Reese have blood on their hands.
Warnings: Blood. Spoilers for 3x09.
The night of Joss Carter's death a phone rang; Finch stood still and thought for one horrible moment that the bell tolled for John. John was more than a helper monkey.
Joss had paid the ultimate piece and Finch knew she would be another ghost to haunt him; she was more than a number or a pixelated image on a security camera.
After John was released from the hospital, Finch took him to John's apartment. As he helped John into his apartment he noticed that they was blood staining John's hands crimson.
Years ago, Finch had woken up from an explosion, a blinding flash of white light, to find that blood was on his hands. While it was most likely his own, he couldn't help but think that it was Nathan's. He had scrubbed his hands until the skin was cracked and raw, but they never came clean. He often thought that the blood had soaked into his skin and stained him a a cellular level.
John walked over to his couch and sat down heavily. Finch just stood there. He wanted to comfort his friend, but was unsure of what to do; if only people were as easy to understand as machines.
Bear seemed to know what to do. He jumped of the couch and settled his head on John's lap. John stroked Bear's fur.
Finch went to John kitchen and soaked a washcloth in warm water. He poured two glasses of cool water and went back to John's living room. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He gave John the wet washcloth and John cleaned off his hands. His moments were stiff and slow.
Finch settled back against John's couch. He didn't know what to do, but he hoped it brought some comfort. He took a sip of water and it stuck in his throat as if it was full of ash.
After several minutes of silents John spoke.
'I'm going to kill Simmons.'
'Oh, dear. I know you want justice, but do you think that's wise?'
'Doesn't matter. I'll do it with or without you.'
'I see. Well, in that case I will help you,' Finch said. As much as knowing that John was going to kill someone made his stomach tighten, he knew well that John was going to do it no matter what. John was nothing if not determined. He could at least minimize the damage done.
'Thanks. I'm going to use the bullet with my name on it,' John said with a smirk that made the hair on the back of Finch neck stand up. Finch was reminded of a cat who knew he had had a mouse.
'Is there anything I could do for you?'
'Yeah, use those computer skills of yours and give me all you can on Simmons.'
'Of course.'
Finch got up off the couch and made his way to the door. Bear stayed with John and Finch thought that was for the best. Perhaps Bear could keep John from soothing himself with a bottle.
Finch walked out of the apartment building and onto the busy city street. People moved around him as if it was any other night, but he knew it was far from any other night.
He knew that Simmons number was going to come up and that he would have the man's blood on his hands, but than what was one more drop of blood.
Characters: Finch, Reese and Bear
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 571
Summary: After the events of 3x09, Finch and Reese have blood on their hands.
Warnings: Blood. Spoilers for 3x09.
The night of Joss Carter's death a phone rang; Finch stood still and thought for one horrible moment that the bell tolled for John. John was more than a helper monkey.
Joss had paid the ultimate piece and Finch knew she would be another ghost to haunt him; she was more than a number or a pixelated image on a security camera.
After John was released from the hospital, Finch took him to John's apartment. As he helped John into his apartment he noticed that they was blood staining John's hands crimson.
Years ago, Finch had woken up from an explosion, a blinding flash of white light, to find that blood was on his hands. While it was most likely his own, he couldn't help but think that it was Nathan's. He had scrubbed his hands until the skin was cracked and raw, but they never came clean. He often thought that the blood had soaked into his skin and stained him a a cellular level.
John walked over to his couch and sat down heavily. Finch just stood there. He wanted to comfort his friend, but was unsure of what to do; if only people were as easy to understand as machines.
Bear seemed to know what to do. He jumped of the couch and settled his head on John's lap. John stroked Bear's fur.
Finch went to John kitchen and soaked a washcloth in warm water. He poured two glasses of cool water and went back to John's living room. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He gave John the wet washcloth and John cleaned off his hands. His moments were stiff and slow.
Finch settled back against John's couch. He didn't know what to do, but he hoped it brought some comfort. He took a sip of water and it stuck in his throat as if it was full of ash.
After several minutes of silents John spoke.
'I'm going to kill Simmons.'
'Oh, dear. I know you want justice, but do you think that's wise?'
'Doesn't matter. I'll do it with or without you.'
'I see. Well, in that case I will help you,' Finch said. As much as knowing that John was going to kill someone made his stomach tighten, he knew well that John was going to do it no matter what. John was nothing if not determined. He could at least minimize the damage done.
'Thanks. I'm going to use the bullet with my name on it,' John said with a smirk that made the hair on the back of Finch neck stand up. Finch was reminded of a cat who knew he had had a mouse.
'Is there anything I could do for you?'
'Yeah, use those computer skills of yours and give me all you can on Simmons.'
'Of course.'
Finch got up off the couch and made his way to the door. Bear stayed with John and Finch thought that was for the best. Perhaps Bear could keep John from soothing himself with a bottle.
Finch walked out of the apartment building and onto the busy city street. People moved around him as if it was any other night, but he knew it was far from any other night.
He knew that Simmons number was going to come up and that he would have the man's blood on his hands, but than what was one more drop of blood.