Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies

John blinked under the blinding lights of the interrogation room. His body probably ached after hours on a hard, metal chair with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he didn't really notice. He could only focus on Donnelly's favorite questions.

"Who are you working for? What is the name of your handler? We want you to give up your handler."

Give him up. Give up Harold. That's exactly what John had done when he smashed his phone with the butt of his gun. He needed to let Finch go before he got dragged any further into John's mess.

"Are you there, Finch?"
"Always, Mr. Reese."

Those words had become their own private mantra. They were the reassurance of their commitment to each other, and their own way of communicating what was otherwise difficult to put into words. And John felt a sharp burst of despair as he severed that connection, but it was a good pain. If the last thing he could do for Harold was to protect him from Donnelly, so be it.

Donnelly didn't seem like such a funny guy anymore. Was it only two days ago that they thought he was downright hilarious? Listening to Donnelly blather on about Snow and the Chinese, John allowed himself a rare smile and caught Harold's eye. Finch returned the look with his own mirthful expression, and they held each other's gaze for a second or two longer than was really necessary.

And John had reflected that not only was he happy, he was content. There was a quiet amazement in the realization that he had again found – or been found by – someone he now felt connected to, someone that he belonged with. And that together they had the overwhelming satisfaction of doing an important job, of making a difference. Warm companionship, meaningful work - these were the best things this life had to offer, and they were his. He even had a dog, for crying out loud.

"I know exactly everything about you, Mr. Reese."

He remembered how those words had angered and unnerved him. And as they forged their unlikely friendship through the intensity of their work, and through small shared comforts, John had come to appreciate the wonder and the irony that now being known and understood by Harold Finch meant exactly everything to him.

John knew and understood Finch as well. He knew that Harold would want to use all of his formidable skills to try to bring him home, but he quelled the part of his heart that found this thought exhilarating. Their "no risk free life" motto could only be taken so far. One of them had to remain free for the greater good of the numbers. Their work was more important than their own needs. And John knew that Finch understood this as well; it had been his own desire when he had been taken by Root. John wasn't about to give up. But he knew that if he couldn't make it back, Harold would find a new partner and continue the crusade.

John began to ponder his replacement. What would this new man be like? Would he look after Harold? Would he see the vulnerability beneath his sometimes brusque exterior, and try to protect him as John had? Would this new partner appreciate the dry, humorous comments that Finch dropped into the conversation at the most unexpected times? Would Harold even make them to someone new?

A wave of sadness as powerful as his recent happiness swept over him.

With effort, John forced his mind back to happier times. Carter's reunion with Taylor after they rescued her son from Elias's thugs…Leila chewing on a necktie…Harold in his expensive suit, drenched from the sprinkler system that John set off at Jordan Hester's apartment.

There was a time when his memories had been his tormentors – constant, dark reminders of loss and failure. But somehow these new remembrances were small, sustaining treasures, and John realized that he had not yet given up hope of returning to Harold and their mission. Not now, not ever.

FIN

A/N: When I published my first story, I really thought that I had gotten this whole writing thing out of my system, and that I would be one and done. But then the reviews came in and they were so warm and reassuring. Thank you. And much to my surprise, some of you even asked me to continue writing. Honestly, folks, I never saw that coming. So please know that this second effort is the direct result of your kind encouragement. I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to hearing what you think. Happy Holidays!