This story is a bit of a stretch, but Finch is such a man of mystery I suppose anything is possible.
Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest
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"I thought I might find you here, Mr. Reese. Everything alright?"
John glanced out of the corner of his eye as the shorter man took a seat next to him on the bench in Central Park. "Just thinking, Harold."
Harold pulled his coat a little tighter around himself as he tried to make himself comfortable, a group of joggers passed by and then all was silent once more. "You've been out here all day."
The side of John's mouth curved into a smile, "Have you been checking up on me, Harold?"
"No, Mr Reese. That would be Detective Fusco. Apparently he spotted you while he was on his break this morning and has been keeping an eye on you."
"Yes, I've noticed him."
Harold sighed. "He's texted me thirty four times today, trying to figure out why you are out here."
A smile lit up John's face. "Sorry about that, Harold."
Harold turned an annoyed look at John, "The least you can do is tell me why you are out here."
John looked at the ground; he was silent for several seconds before explaining. "My brother's birthday is today." He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. " I haven't seen him since I was a child, I don't even know if he's still alive."
The older man let that information soak in for a moment, "Do you remember anything about him?"
"Not much, I was only five when our parents died. Actually, we had different fathers. I remember they didn't get along too well, my dad was always picking on Henry about something."
John quickly glanced at Harold before continuing, "My brother's name was Henry," he explained. "He was really smart, but wasn't into sports and that annoyed my dad."
"I remember we hung out a lot, he was quite a bit older and got stuck babysitting." He smiled sadly.
Harold cleared his throat and watched another group of joggers pass by. "It sounds like you remember a lot for such a small child."
"As hard as I try, I can't remember what he looked like." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, "I just know a few days after our parent's death he disappeared." A pained expression crossed John's face, "I was sent to live with my father's sister and she couldn't tell me what happened to him, just that he disappeared."
Finch removed his glasses, wiped them clean and then cleared his throat. "Maybe your brother was trying to protect you from something, maybe that's why he left."
John stared at Harold for a few moments before slowly shrugging and turning his attention back to the birds that had landed a few feet in front of them, "I don't know, maybe."
They sat there for several minutes before John stood up. "I think that's enough memories for one day, how about getting an early dinner, Harold?"
()()()()()
Later that evening after dropping Reese off at his apartment building, Finch and Bear returned to the library. Harold unhooked Bear and gave him a treat before putting his leash on the table next to his computers and taking a seat in his chair.
He typed furiously on the keyboard until a picture popped up on the computer screen in front of him. It was a picture of two boys standing in front of a Christmas tree, the taller boy with glasses crouched down next to the younger dark haired boy. Both of the boys grinning happily.
Harold stared at the picture for several seconds before angrily hitting a key and causing the screen to go dark.
