AN: So this idea came to me when I watched the 'sneak peak 2' they put out for 5x02. I don't even know what the whole episode is going to be like but Harold asking about Iris, telling John to go do things. It just got into my head and I thought why not! (Because clearly I like to torture myself and everyone else).

"What's the ETA, Finch?"

Harold and Root turn and give John matching unamused glances as he walks up to the subway car.

John holds up his hands in surrender. "I was just asking."

"We need to find more game consoles," Root says as she carries one into the subway car past where Harold sits. "We burnt out two more last night and we need to maintain the server space or She could lose RAM."

"Doubt we can go back to our first source."

Harold hears Root giggle as she puts the PlayStation on the floor then stands up straight again. "I might have some ideas."

"Care to share?"

"Let me check on those first. I'll be sure to call you if I need you."

"Finch?"

"Mr. Reese?" Harold says without looking back at John from his computer screens, the Machine running sluggishly in front of him.

"What can I do?"

Harold clears his throat. "Go to the police station. You still have a cover to maintain."

"Finch, I want to –"

"I know, Mr. Reese," Harold says, finally turning around to face John. "But we need you where you are, with your police access while the Machine rebuilds."

"We have Lionel."

Harold sighs. "Just go, Mr. Reese. One of us should get out of this subway. I am sure you could use some more time with Ms. Campbell."

John purses his lips. "If that's what you want."

Harold turns back around toward his computer again. "Enjoy the fresh air, Mr. Reese. Have a drink. We will let you know when the Machine is back on Her feet."

Harold feels John watch his back for a few beats. Harold keeps his fingers on the keys and stares his computer screen. He does not turn back around. Then he hears John's footsteps as he walks away across the platform and up the stairs. Harold starts typing again to access the Machine's programing.

"You know, you shouldn't keep doing that," Root says once the sound of the snack machine door over their staircase filters down.

Harold glances at Root briefly where she crouches in front of one game console, pulling out wires. Then he turns back to the computer screen. "Do what?"

"Push him away, encouraging him to have a normal life." He looks at her more seriously now, his fingers still. She raises her eyebrows. "We need him."

"Mr. Reese is still working with –"

"Of course he is, but we don't know how long this war is going to last and you trying to save him just because of how you feel about him is only going to weaken us."

Harold clenches one fist. "I don't know what you mean, Root."

She stares at him for two beats. "Yes, you do." She gestures toward where John went. "We don't need him running off to a normal life which wouldn't last long anyway."

"You don't know that."

"One less person on our side in a Samaritan war?" She scoffs. "Yes, I do."

Harold clenches his teeth and turns back around to the code of the Machine. "He has a chance."

Root sighs as she pulls the fried console out of the line onto the subway car floor. "Do any of us, Harold?"

"Mr. Reese deserves –"

"It's not about what he deserves, Harold!" Root snaps and stands up abruptly. "You need to put your personal feelings aside."

"Like you are?" Harold snaps back, turning around in his chair.

Root's mouth pinches. "I am. I have been."

They stare hard at each other for a moment then Root takes a step closer, leaning over Harold slightly. "You have to stop pushing him or he just might listen to you. You can't –"

"I can do whatever I please, Ms. Groves," Harold says harshly with emphasis on the name Root hates. "Why shouldn't he escape this?" Harold waves a hand at their enclosed surroundings. "I am a cause long lost. You are waiting for Ms. Shaw to return. Mr. Reese? He still has the possibility of getting out of this with a chance at happiness, at living outside of this underground dungeon, at being a real person! He deserves it after everything he has done for this city; after all he has done for me." Harold breathes in deeply. "If his cover holds, if he and Ms. Campbell can be happy then he deserves to have that."

Harold turns back to his computer once more and starts typing where he left off, a patch on the Machine's archival access. He is putting Her back together piece by piece. If he can save Her then can most certainly save John too.

"Harold…" Root puts a hand on his shoulder and he stops typing. "We need all the help we can get. John is an important asset."

"He is not going to leave, Root." Harold sits up straight so Root pulls her hand away. "His loyalty is not something he easily shakes. While this war is on, you need not fear about his commitment."

"And after?"

"And after we should all move on." Harold types another line of code. "In separate directions."

"So you're laying the ground work." She pauses. "Coding him?"

Harold's jaw clenches. "Human beings are not so simple."

"And neither are machines lately," she quips.

"I am not coding, John," Harold insists quietly.

"No, you're conditioning him." Root steps away and crouches down beside the game consoles again.

"I…"

"You're pulling yourself back, being just his boss again," Root pushes. "Continually suggesting a world beyond the numbers, beyond the Machine, activities, a love life, so that when the time comes and you break ties he will be 'safe.'" She slides the new PlayStation into place alongside the others. "Or what you consider to be safe." She pulls out chords from where they connected to the previous console. "Tell me, Harry." She plugs in one Ethernet cord. "When you ran away from Grace before, did she stay 'safe?'"

Harold presses his hands into the wood of the desk. He breathes in and out as he stares at the keyboard. He does not speak for almost a full minute. Root stays still in his peripheral vision.

"You have spent enough of your life being cruel, Root," Harold finally says. "I do not see why you feel the need to continue now."

The air between them hangs once more. Then Harold hears a hitch in Root's voice. "Maybe I want to protect you, Harold, just like you want to protect John."

Harold turns his head just enough to see her still crouched near the floor. She plugs in another cord to connect the game station to the others then switches it on. She steadies herself with a hand on the shelves then stands up again.

"You're not a 'lost cause,' Harold. If this war ends, if we somehow make it through, don't you think you'll have a life too?"

"But that's not the whole point, Root," Harold says, her question very much unanswered; "it is also about now. If none of us are going to survive this war, which you must admit seems rather likely."

Root makes a face but does not deny his assertion.

"If that is the case then we need to live for now. We need to enjoy what time we have. You and I want to help Her. John…" Harold's eyes shift away from Root. "He can have something else." He looks up at Root again. "He should have something else."

Root raises her eyebrows. "Without you?"

Harold breathes in and clicks his tongue. "He never wanted me, Root." Then he turns back around to the computer screen. "He needed a purpose. That's all."

"Harold…"

"And there is Ms. Shaw." Harold gestures toward her. "I know you agree we must reclaim her."

"Yes."

"And that is for you, Root, a chance for you," Harold says quietly as he starts to type again - the archival memory space of the Machine is compromised, fragmented from the compression. She remembers some things about them, about past numbers, but it remains incomplete.

"Harold."

Harold can manually reboot some of the memory drives, a few at a time, to restore the Machine's past capacity. They could also increase the server space and possibly allow the Machine to reconstruct Her memories from archival video feeds. However, as Harold had been coding earlier, the archival video access is limited.

"Harold." Root suddenly turns his chair around to face her. "Stop it, please."

Harold puts his hands over hers on the arms of his chair. Her face shifts to surprise; Harold rarely touches her. Then he pulls her hands off of his chair and lets them go again.

"I know what you want to say, Root, but John and I have worked together for a number of years now. I know him better than you."

"Or maybe you're too close to see."

"I see this, Root, She needs us, me especially and I am not going to abandon Her." Harold's eyes shift to the screens then back to Root. "That is not John's world; I am not his world. I want him to have another one."

Harold turns his chair back around to face the computer and Root does not stop him. Harold starts to type again, ignoring Root's stare. There is nothing she could say to change his mind.

[What Harold does not see behind him is John standing at the bottom of the stairs. What Harold did not hear were John's feet immediately coming back down the stairs after their secret door closed – a simple, every day moment of John leaving something behind by mistake. What Harold did not see was John listening to Harold and Root through their whole argument and conversation.

Now Harold does not notice as Root turns her head to look at John standing on the bottom step. Now Harold does not see the expression on John's face.]