"Finch!" John heard a muted scuffle through his ear wig. Then he hears the unmistakable sound of Harold's pained gasps and knows something is terribly wrong.
John had been delayed at the precinct and Harold had gone on to the scene alone, there was no time to waste.
The man that had been hired to kill their latest number had been bribed with a shit load of cash to leave the country and the victim alive. But the man wasn't waiting around to be paid off and Harold had to make the decision to intervene before John had enough time to get to the location. The transfer of cash was supposed to happen at the victim's apartment and the culprit was supposed to take it and run with no one getting hurt.
It didn't quite work that way. Harold made sure that the victim was safely away before handing over the briefcase. The man grinned at Harold maliciously before he turned and left the room. Before Harold had made it down and out to the front entrance of the apartment complex the man had him restrained in a choke hold with his arm wrapped around Harold's neck from behind.
Harold didn't have a chance as he was maneuvered and pulled violently into the back alleyway and slammed against the brick wall of the building brutally, knocking the wind from him.
Harold reached up instinctively and hit his end of the earwig to open the channel up to John but before he could say a word the vicious criminal rushed him with a knife and plunged it into Harold's abdomen multiple times as Harold slumped into him, already losing strength. The nasty criminal then punched him in the side of his head before running off and leaving him to bleed out alone in the filth that surrounded them.
"I'm here John… Miss Collins is safe. He'll… no longer be a threat to her." He was aware enough to know that his wounds were life threatening and the pain was excruciating as he tried to think through it for his next move.
"Where are you?" John had heard the evidence of a physical altercation through the cadence in Harold's pained breaths and had hoped he had just been beaten and not seriously injured.
"I'm …In the alleyway… behind her building." He pressed himself against the dirty wall for support, trying to get his breathing regulated. It was painful, extremely painful and he looked down at his hands to see the blood escaping through his fingers as he held them against the entry wounds.
"Are you hurt?" John felt a sense of dread even as he asked the question.
"I'd say so… yes." He was starting to feel light headed and distantly thought to himself that it wasn't taking him very long to die.
"How bad?" John knew it was bad before he asked the question and prayed he wasn't going to be too late.
"Oh… it's pretty bad John." He gasped, he was losing the strength to keep himself propped up and his legs began to weaken beneath him.
"Can you get to the street? Somewhere you can get help?"
"I… I don't think… I can John." He felt himself sliding to the ground and was losing the ability to focus on anything but the immense pain in his stomach.
"Harold, I'm ten minutes out, can you make it that long?" John was breaking all speed limits as he shut off his end of the comm and dialed 911 and gave them the address of the building Harold was located.
"I… don't think I can… John." It was getting hard to stay awake now and more difficult to breathe.
"Try Harold. Try and get to the street I've got an ambulance on the way." John called Joss and hurriedly gave her the address as well, telling her that Finch had been hurt and to meet him at the scene.
"I don't think…" He began but changed his mind. He had to pick and choose his words now. "John… I want to thank you… thank you for helping me with the numbers…"
"Finch… please just get to the street. Someone will be there." John knew it was desperate now and felt his chest clench painfully.
"Don't … don't tell me… what to do Mister Reese." He teased.
"Finch…" John was beyond frightened now as he listened to Harold's words begin to slur.
"It's been… wonderful working with you John." He smiled weakly thinking of John's face.
"Please Harold… don't give up, just get to the street." John's voice started to break as he continued to hear Harold's labored breathing.
"Please… tell Detective Carter and the others… that I'm eternally in their debt John… and that…"
"You'll tell them yourself Finch." The pain in John's chest was getting worse the closer he got to the location.
"I'm afraid not John… I'm alright with this…" He replied quietly.
"God damn it, I'm not! Please don't give up Harold… please." John was so close now but he was scared to death of what he was going to find when he got there.
"I'll…" Harold went quiet for a few moments as John listened to his breathing starting to weaken and shallow out.
"Finch!" He exclaimed as he raced through the streets, almost there.
"I'm here John… I'm sorry… for a minute… I lost myself… I lost myself." He slurred quietly.
John came to a screeching halt and ran around to the back alleyway. He saw his partner immediately, slumped against the wall, laying on his side. He could see the vivid red covering the whole front of his light colored dress shirt and suit. As he got closer he saw the sickening crimson pool of blood expanding beneath him.
"I'll never… be sorry John…" Harold's eyes were closed as he murmured the words.
"Hang on Harold!" John implored as he fell to his knees beside his dying partner. He felt sick seeing all the blood coming from Harold's mid-section and choked back a sob of despair.
"You've been… more than sufficient… in our work John." Harold opened his eyes and looked at John and smiled.
"Please Finch…" John already knew it was too late when he heard two distinct sets of sirens.
Harold heard them too now and smiled again through the lessening pain.
"I'll be okay John." he said peacefully.
He looked up past John now at the sliver of blue sky between the dingy buildings above their heads. "I'll be all…"
"Finch…" John clenched his eyes shut for a moment, not wanting to believe what has just happened then reached down and pulled Harold's body to him, embracing him… and wept quietly.
Joss rounded the corner and ran up on the two men and stopped short at the sight. The second set of blaring sirens, the sounds of an ambulance this time, comes to a halt, but it's too late. They're all too late.
She walked over and kneeled beside John on the filthy cold cement as he cradled Harold's body in his arms and waited a moment before she stood up and put her hand on John's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.
Carter wiped her own tears away and hurried to the mouth of the alleyway to hold the paramedics at bay while John continued to hold Harold close to him. She doesn't hurry him. She gives him all the time he needs to be with his partner… to say goodbye.