Title: Nowhere Man

Author: November9Noir

Rating: T, or PG

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from 'Person of Interest', nor am I profiting from this work in any way.

A/N: My tag for Ep. 1.8 'Foe,' didn't really fit with my other story so I'm posting it as a stand-alone. My inspiration is from the Beatles' song of the same name, written by John Lennon but credited to John Lennon and Paul McCartney circa 1965 (apparently still under copyright to Northern Songs! Paul, Ringo, love you guys, please don't sue!).


He's as blind as he can be, just sees what he wants to see-Nowhere man, can you see me all?

Kohl's breathing was labored. "I never had a tomorrow," he said in reply to Reese. The old operative passed the Welrod over to him before breathing his last. Reese waited a few moments in silent memorial, and then dissolved into the darkness.

He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land

Reese looked up from Kohl's grave. What a tragedy, what a waste, buried in a place that didn't even know his name. Kohl had lost everything, career, family, friends; even the country he'd given so much for didn't exist anymore. How cruel and ironic, to be imprisoned for crimes against a dead state, a dead ideology.

He wasn't sure why he kept coming back to this place. He'd seen his future in Kohl. Someone had said it somewhere; there was no retirement plan for old spooks.

Doesn't have a point of view, knows not where he's going to

John Reese was not a man given to introspection, asking why he did the things he did (or had done, like leaving Jessica). That way led to self-doubt. Kohl had believed in what he did, hunting down East German defectors. Reese had believed in his country too, in the Army, at least, where things were straightforward. He'd started to develop doubts almost as soon as he'd arrived in Russia. Stanton, a little too cavalier in dispatching those two alleged traitors. Kara, possessive, controlling and emotionally abusive. Until Ordos, and then…

No. Reese closed his eyes and shook his head sharply. No, don't go there, he told himself. It's done, it's over. She's as dead in the ground as Kohl. And, albeit in different ways, he'd put them both there.

Nowhere man, the world is at your command

Reese still had the ability to relate to people, to empathize. Finch, while having the appearance of being a good listener, was gathering information and piecing the puzzle together. Anya had poured her story out to him, and he knew how to respond in all the right places, but it was a polite fiction. It didn't affect him.

Finch had isolated himself from human contact for so long he really didn't notice anymore that he was alone. He was the chess master, the controller, sifting through information about people's lives and the decisions they made that, in turn, affected countless others, but he was above it, apart from it.

It was probably why he stayed up all night, pursuing the data down every rabbit hole, sometimes ending up in Wonderland. Nathan had often teased him about it, much the same way Reese did, about sleeping at his desk. Nathan. Would the guilt ever go away? Of all the numbers and names on his board, the picture that wasn't there was his biggest personal failure. He, Finch, hadn't seen! Too close, too involved, and the only person who had made him feel connected to the world had died because of it.

How long could he and Mr. Reese keep up with the demands of the Machine and the numbers, Finch wondered. Two years, three, five, ten? Reese was seeking redemption, doing his penance for his sins just as much as Finch, only Reese didn't consciously realize it. How much would be enough to wash the blood from their hands? Would it ever be enough?

And as always, the numbers never stopped coming. Taking the latest one, Finch turned to his other machines to see what information he could gather to prevent another person from destroying themselves.

He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody


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