Story: We make a lot of choices every day, but some choices are made for us. John knows that concept all too well. Still, someones choice from the past and a bad decision put him in a difficult situation during the work on a number.
Disclaimer: Bad Robot Productions, Kilter Films, Warner Bros. Television
Author's note: This was supposed to be a small musing piece with a twist, but then Finch insisted there was a case and John wanted to tell something about his childhood. They changed the entire story. *g*
Spoiler: Has hints at facts through most of S2, but nothing too specific after 2x05.
Warning: Contains supernatural elements and is therefore AU, although otherwise it goes along with canon.
Date: 16.07.2013 - 11.01.2014

The Choices We Make

PART 1

When Finch made it to the park, Bear by his side, their number was already there. Seventeen year old Kosuke Yoshioka was, as far as they could tell, a good boy. He had average grades and was dedicated to his dog and his hobby: Frisbee freestyle. His young black and white Border Collie 'Shelby' loved the colorful discs and together they were quite a team.

After unleashing Bear and telling him to 'go play', Finch observed the kid and his pet. Reese had been tailing the boy and had suggested they meet at the park when Kosuke had gotten his dog and discs after school. With Bear as a convenient cover they could stay close and inconspicuously make contact if need be.

So far though, there was no sign of Mr. Reese. Finch checked his cell for messages and when there were none, he tried calling his colleague, only to be met by the generic request to leave a voice mail. He didn't. Instead Finch shifted his focus towards the lawn.

Kosuke and Shelby were in good form and understood each other without the need for voiced commands. Hand gestures seemed enough to prompt Shelby into and entire chain of practiced moves. They had a flow to their performance that was stunning and made him just a little envious. Finch had brought a ball for Bear to fetch, but the Belgian Malinois had found furry playmates for the time being and didn't want or need his immediate attention. So Harold allowed his mind to drift for a moment.

Bear was always excited to go to the park, but more than that, he was usually more relaxed there. Not just because he could run and play, though. Obviously he took his duty very seriously, so time at the library was in a way 'work' for him. Boring guard work and mostly without surprises, but work nonetheless.

A lot had changed between them since they had met over a chewed first edition of Asimov. In the beginning, Bear had protected him on Reese's orders and had followed his tentative commands for the same reason. But then 'it' had beckoned him to play, to interact after the ordeal with Root and Harold had found himself bonding with the animal. Bear had become the embodiment of safety and companionship. The dog never asked questions and it never demanded more from Finch than he could give.

He clearly was still Reese's dog though - no matter who spent more time with him, spent more time caring for him. Because there were some patterns, certain behaviors Bear only displayed towards or around Reese. Obviously the dog saw his partner as the pack leader and quite frankly Finch didn't mind. Reese had stopped being a mere employee a long time ago and had become one of his few real friends. Luckily, they had both no need or patience for hierarchic battles, but enjoyed them in a teasing manner nonetheless.

Finch knew, that the dog needed an experienced and confident handler. Bear took his cues now too and had even learned English commands, but that wasn't quite enough. Finch couldn't provide the exercise the working dog needed and he certainly couldn't provide the strictness Bear was used to. More often than not he tended to spoil the animal. The squeaky toy had only been one thing in a long list of indulgences.

When Finch glanced around to see if he could spot Reese, he noticed the crowd in the park had been building beyond his immediate line of sight. Many people had obviously decided, that a sunny evening was the perfect opportunity for some fresh air.

"Shell!"

For some reason the shout caught Harold's attention, before he even realized how relevant it was. Clearly it had been aimed at Shelby - the number's dog - who was trying to catch a too highly thrown Frisbee. If there hadn't been someone in her path, if she'd had more space, she would very likely have made the catch. Given the circumstances though, she stood no chance. She jumped and stretched, but when she came back down the disc was still flying right towards a woman's head.

Finch got up in alarm. Not that Kosuke was likely in immediate danger because of this, but enraged people were unpredictable. Enraged people with dogs even more so.

A tan colored flash from the left caught his eye, joined by one from the right and then time seemed to slow down. He recognized Bear on one side of Shelby lifting off the ground, while on the opposite side a German Shepherd had likewise jumped.

The unknown dog reached the apex first and snatched the disc with ease, before twisting its canine body to both, land on its feet and avoid Bear. Those actions lessened the impact, but the Shepherd and Bear still crashed down in a tangle of furry limbs and long tails.

Finch worriedly limped closer, as they sorted out their paws. He could see by their easy movements that neither dog appeared to have suffered injury, but they were clearly wary of each other. A tense atmosphere surrounded the three canines. Too tense for a fearful Shelby who had hidden behind her master, tail literally tucked between her legs.
The two remaining dogs were her polar opposites, locked in a staring match with their tails confidently upright. Bear appeared confused though, torn between friendly and aggressive behavior, his ears twitching back and forth.

The situation was too complex for Finch's limited understanding of canine social behavior. However, when Bear suddenly started barking and jumped around the German Shepherd like mad, his discomfort turned to alarm. Kosuke must have seen that, because he intervened. Not by influencing the dogs, but by influencing his fellow handler.

"It's okay." he said, before Finch could voice a command. "He's just very happy and wants to play with him."

It sounded placating and ridiculous, but when Finch looked back at the dogs it rang true. He could see Bear in his mind's eye at another time and place, tail wagging furiously as he literally bowled over his master in his sheer joy at their reunion.

Somehow all three dogs ended up sitting expectantly in front of Kosuke, waiting for the disc to be thrown. Finch, with the tiniest hint of a smile, moved back to sit on a bench then. He watched them playing peacefully and noted with some amusement, how lucky they were that the boy had brought so many Frisbees for his training. There were enough to keep all three dogs running back and forth almost non-stop.

So, with the boy in safe company Harold tried Reese's cell again, but it went straight to voice mail once more. When he turned it on remotely and tracked it via GPS he got a location nearby. Finch knew there were any number of reasons why Reese would be unwilling or indeed unable to answer his phone during an operation. Unfortunately, many of those reasons where most troubling though, because they involved being captured, physically injured or both.

Suddenly a shot rang out and Finch found himself back on his feet in alarm, the GPS signal forgotten. As fast as he could, he limped towards Kosuke on the ground. There was no time to spare, he had to get the boy to safety immediately, even if it meant whisking him away single-handedly.

A moment before he could call the speed dial for his personal ambulance - an arrangement made after the CIA's almost fatal hit on Reese - he realized it wasn't Kosuke that was hurt. There was no blood to be seen on his bright yellow t-shirt, and though he appeared shocked, his features didn't show any pain. The boy was half trapped underneath the German Shepherd however, who was unusually still. The dog's eyes were closed and the bloody spot visible in the lighter colored fur was slowly expanding.

It laid still for so long, that Bear eventually prodded the fellow canine softly with his nose. At that the Shepherd's eyes flew open and he staggered to his feet with a low growl to stare at Bear. Then he looked around however, scented the air and dashed towards and into some bushes at the edge of the lawn, as fast as the injury allowed.

Finch could relate, wanted to run and hide too, but forced himself to remain calm. He would have preferred to help the wounded dog, but knew he stood no chance of catching up to it, much less of actually catching it. So instead he focused back on Kosuke.

"This is Bear and you can call me Harold." he told the confused boy, that had just gotten to his feet. "You're in danger, Mr. Yoshioka. We're here to help, but you'll have to come with us."

The youth looked at him with a strange expression on his face. Finch couldn't tell whether it was fear or confusion or maybe a mixture of the two. Then the boy glanced around at the chaos that had befallen everyone in the park. People were screaming, hiding or running. Some dogs were barking or covering, others were tugging on their leashes trying to get away. It was madness.

"Please, Mr. Yoshioka." Finch urged. "We need to move, now."

Kosuke hesitated a moment longer. Finch wondered if he was thinking about the universal parent advice about not going anywhere with strangers. He'd never heard about it being mentioned in conjunction with shots fired, but of course the boy had every right to be suspicious of him. Of someone that wanted him to leave the park before the police showed up.

Finch moved a few steps into the direction of his car, hoping it would spur the young man into action. But Bear didn't move with him, didn't join him in the heel position as usual. When Finch glanced back, Kosuke was looking from him, to Bear and back. He was likely assessing both their behavior and Finch wondered where that would lead.

Surely, the boy wouldn't see him as a threat, especially not with the heavy limp. He might also not consider him a very good handler, seeing as 'his' dog had just more or less disobeyed him. But would it hinder his efforts to get the young man to trust him?

At that moment, Kosuke offered the back of his hand for Bear to sniff. They'd played together before, but Finch realized the boy had never actually approached or touched the dog. Rather Bear had approached the Shepherd, Shelby and him. Now though, after getting sniffed, Kosuke reached out to stroke Bear under the chin and down the back.

Bear let him do that for a short while, but then he actually started to nudge the boy with his nose. He also began to nudge Shelby in Finch's direction. Kosuke looked at him then, and shrugged before he joined Finch. And all the way to the car, Bear moved around the two of them and an unsettled Shelby, guiding and guarding them.

John was no stranger to being tranquilized and wounded, but it still took him a while to get the world to stop spinning and to fight the sickness threatening to overwhelm him. Whatever he'd been given was a real doozy. He felt confused and dizzy and his vision was blurry. It also took incredible concentration to move and when he managed it, every motion was slow and clumsy despite his best efforts.

From the residual pain and the bandage around his stomach he figured he'd been hurt and when he stretched experimentally the skin felt uncomfortably tight, suggesting he'd gotten stitches. Great. Another wound to add to his extensive collection. Most disconcerting though was the fact, that he couldn't remember how he'd been injured, how he'd gotten to where he was or how much time had passed since then.

John heaved himself to his feet with some difficulty, leaning against the cage he was trapped in for support. It was obviously made of sturdy metal and whilst it afforded some space it was still too small for comfort. He wondered, not for the first time, how people could confine pets in those things - how they could confine other people inside them. A flash in his mind's eye showed a different cage, on sandy ground and in glaring sunlight. A human figure was in it, sweating profusely, soaking tattered clothes while it's parched lips missed every drop.

He shook the memory off - literally. This was neither the time nor the place to remember. He had to keep the boy safe. Had to find out what had happened to him and his dog, to Finch and Bear. But first he needed to determine where he himself had ended up. At a kennel? There were other identical cages in the rest of the room, some of them with dogs in them.

He remembered being at the park, watching someone keeping an eye on Kosuke and Shelby as well. Had that person been the threat? Had that person overpowered him at the park and brought him to his place of work? Or was the one who'd fired the shot maybe a dog breeder and this was his private property? A breeder desperate enough for the disc dog championship to kill his competition?

The thoughts were difficult to grasp and hopelessly out of context, because he still couldn't remember much of anything. The harder John concentrated, the more they eluded him, slipped through his fingers.

Instead he remembered himself being nine years old in Central Park during a summer break visit to his grandparents. He'd loved the city already back then, so different from the rural life in Puyallup, Washington. But he'd also been big enough to know about its dangers.

A man carrying a leash had been asking around for his dog. He'd asked everyone; men, women and children. Only by chance had John heard that the question he'd asked one girl was different. She'd agreed to help find the dog and had left with the man. Acting on pure instinct, knowing more than just intellectually that something was wrong, John had followed them into the cover of some trees. He remembered trying to pull the attacker off the girl, the glint of a knife and blinding pain. Remembered hearing the other kid scream and run. A dog had barked in alarm nearby, followed by something like the sound of thunder, a man's scream of terror and the noise of tearing flesh. And suddenly a dog had loomed above him, a dark brown terrier, it's fur painted red with blood.

- to be continued -