Harold sits in his apartment alone in the dark as he has done on this night for the last ten years. On the table in front of him is a tumbler full of whiskey and five tokens. Four of the tokens were gifts he'd received from John on Valentine's Day. But John was gone now, killed by Samaritan. John had died, saving Harold, saving New York, saving the world and only four people and the machine knew about his sacrifice. A tear slid down his cheek as he fingered each one of the tokens, lost in his memories.
Fifteen years previously he'd gone to the library on Valentine's Day and found a small box on his computer keyboard. There had been no one around and he'd been worried that someone had got in. Only two others beside John and himself had access and neither Shaw nor Root knew anything about the package, so it had to have come from John.
He'd sat down and opened the box. Inside was a small silver token, engraved with a bird on a branch. When John had come back to the library later that day Harold had thanked him for the gift. John had smiled and said that it was just a small thing but it had reminded him of Harold and that he wanted him to have it.
Harold had taken the token home and placed it in a velvet box. He had realised that day that he was developing feelings for John. They carried on working the numbers, and gradually their working relationship grew and they became good friends.
The following year on Valentine's Day another small box had appeared. This time Harold knew it had come from John. When he opened it he found another small silver token. This time it had a house engraved on it. When he thanked John and asked why the house engraving, John had replied that Harold had saved him, given him a second chance and that he felt at home when he was around Harold.
Harold had taken it home with him and placed it in the box with the other one. Later he bought John a real home; the loft was large and spacious. John spent his time between it and the library, and they had sometimes spent their downtime together there.
The next Valentine's Day there was another package. Harold arrived at the library and found it on his keyboard. This silver token was engraved with a cupid. Asking John about it he'd replied that cupid was the god of desire, attraction and affection. The symbol of his feelings for Harold, simply put, he desired Harold very much. Harold knew that he felt the same way too and not long after that they had become lovers.
Valentine's Day number four saw Harold wondering if there would be another token, their relationship was going from strength to strength. He loved John and was loved in return. The numbers though kept coming and this Valentine's Day found John away from Harold. But there had still been a package on his keyboard when he arrived at the library.
Slowly Harold picked up this fourth token, feeling the engraving as the tears fell harder. He remembered when he'd opened the package and inside found a silver token with two entwined hearts. He'd asked John about the engraving when he'd spoken to him that evening on the phone. John had said that the entwined hearts symbolised their never ending love for each other. Harold had never felt as happy as he'd been at that moment.
Harold was sobbing now; their love had ended on the rooftop when Samaritan had destroyed the building that John was on. He'd tried to carry on with the numbers but without John at his side he found he couldn't do it. In the end he'd retired away from the city and away from all the memories of the places that he and John had briefly shared in their lives.
The fifth and last token he held tightly in his hand, it was a small silver token with their initials entwined and picked out in enamel on the surface. Johns initial was in blue, the same colour as his eyes and Harold's had been done in purple, his favourite colour. He'd intended to give it to John on their fifth Valentine's Day but fate is cruel sometimes and he never got to give it to him. He lifts his glass in silent tribute to John and takes a long drink, a quiet prayer for John on his lips. So he sits in the darkness with his memories until the morning comes when he will put the tokens back in their velvet box until next year.