John was on the floor unable to fight back from the onslaught of attack; three on one was an unfair number, as soon as he fell that was it. He had begun to phase out; the pain was getting worse. All he could see was Finch, his smile, his caring eyes, the way he would touch him, kiss him, the many times they made serious, passionate love; it all flooded in front of him. Yes his life was flashing before him, and all he had was Finch. The small, older computer geek who he couldn't live without. He had grown to love him, but had never told him he loved him and now he would possible lose him. All this over a number; over his misjudgment of a number. He saw Finch again but this time he was sad and crying, more frail and old. John knew this was how Finch would end up if he died or left. Suddenly he heard a loud snap and one guy hit the floor next to him, complete face plant; it jogged him back to reality, and then came a second loud snap. John recognised it as bones snapping and a second guy hit the floor, blood pouring from his face. John looked around the third and final guy, and saw a short person, he couldn't distinctly tell the gender, with a grey hood top on with the hood up and a baseball bat in hand.

'I must get myself a baseball bat, looks like a good weapon.' thought John.

The final guy spun around to face the attacker with the bat. That's when John saw it was a man with stubble.

"Hey, what you gonna do now punk? I'm facing you... You're a fucking coward. You bat them from behind. So what you gonna do now? You'd better do it quick or I'll batter you too" shouted the final attacker, squaring up to the guy.

John was worried the person would run, but in a flash the bat was back then colliding with the guy's stomach.

"Ahhh." yelled the guy as he fell to the floor clutching his stomach.

The batter stepped forward "First... Punk... You do not attack him." gesturing at John. "That's what that was for and secondly..." there was a pause, "No one calls me a coward."

The bat flew back again and quickly collided with the guys face. With a bang he hit the floor unconscious and bleeding. John was stunned; who would defend him? The batter walked forward, bat in their left hand, while holding out their right. "Take it." he said.

John wiped the blood from his mouth "No."

"Why?"

"I don't need help getting up."

"Fine, get up on your own, but I'll help you patch up... As always."

Suddenly John knew that voice, "Finch?"

"Who else were you expecting?" came the normal sounding posh Finch.

John took his hand and got up, "What?"

"Let's get to the car and then we can talk."

John nodded, stunned. Finch was always so calm and defenseless, but he just battered three huge men with a baseball bat. John couldn't process it, not that he could process much at all. Finch hooked his arm around John's middle, "Come on then, my wounded solider."

John would have laughed but he hurt too much. Around the corner was the car and Finch helped him into the back, and then climbed in the other side and sat.

"Let's go." he said to the driver.

"Home?"

"Yes home, he needs rest."

"No worries, sir." and the screen between the driver and them rose.

Finch pulled off the hood and placed the bat in a paper bag before turning to John. "You ok? Not that I suspect you are…"

"You... kicked butt... I'm... proud" he said dryly, now that he'd stood the blood was going down his throat and his nose was blocking.

"I'm glad someone is." he said shyly putting his glasses on.

John reached for Finch's hand which he let him, "You...were dumb to... take them all on."

"I know but... but..." Finch sounded upset.

"But you couldn't... do nothing?" he suggested.

"Yes, if I'd have been battered by your side I'd have died happy."

"I know...how you feel."

"No, enough talking, rest till we get home."

"My home?"

"No, my safe house."

"But..."

"I've got carter dealing with the number; it's done John... It's finished."

John nodded and leaned back in the seat, "I like you in... a hood top. Not sure about the stubble though." smiled John.

"It's the driver's hood top. I'll have to get him a new one. Yes, I don't like the stubble either, but it hid who I am didn't it?"

"Big time, I had no idea it was you."

Finch chuckled, "Now rest."

"Yes sir." teased John.