Hi all, after two days, I'm still reeling after the death of Joss Carter. So, in order to help myself move on, I wrote this stand-alone piece. It is my first and only POI story because I needed some sort of closure. I'm using this as the series ending in my head. It features the core four because in my mind those are the four people who should have been left standing in the end. This basically changes the last few minutes of The Crossing and builds from there.
The Aftermath
Detective Joss Carter sat at her desk with her head in her hands. Despite the fact that she should be trying to solve the latest in the series of unsolved murders, all she could think about was the reason no one was there to stop them from happening. John had been shot when she got him released from the Third precinct and she felt like it was her fault. Always the cop, she hadn't found a way to break regulation and return his weapon or his bulletproof vest. He was left completely exposed and unprotected from Simmons's bullets.
In the aftermath of the shooting, John was critically wounded while Carter was left with a shoulder wound and quite a dent in her bulletproof vest. All Joss could see was blood all over John's white shirt.
"Joss," he whispered as he struggled to breathe. "Look after Finch."
"I won't need to. He has you, and Bear, and Shaw." Tears flooded her cheeks as she held onto John. She kissed him near his perfect hairline that had somehow managed to remain in place. And she did her best to apply pressure to the two wounds that seemed to have blood gushing from them like fountains.
"I meant what I said before," his breath grew jagged, "you changed me."
Her mind flashed back to the most beautiful moment of her life. The moment when John Reese told her that before he met her he'd thought of ending it all. As proof, showed her the golden bullet he had planned to use to kill himself after he learned of Jessica's death. Then he told her that meeting her made him want to live. And in an unexpected moment, as he stared at her with those piercing blue eyes, he leaned in and kissed her so tenderly. He left the bullet in the room at the morgue when he ran off to save her life. When she left the morgue, she took it with her as a reminder of everything that had happened that night and over the last two and a half-years.
"Live for me, John. You promised you wouldn't leave me. I meant what I said, if you die, I'm going to hate you."
She begged him and pleaded with him to stay with her, but soon his eyes closed. Two ambulances arrived on scene within minutes of each other. One whisked John away while she watched as a young paramedic tended to her wounded arm. She wanted desperately to ride in the ambulance with John, but Finch discreetly waved her off. In retrospect, he was right; she was the FBI's star witness against Alonzo Quinn in his upcoming trial. Quinn's attorneys would do their best to discredit her; the photographic evidence of she and John would be enough of a start. At least she knew Finch was with John. If there was anything that could be done, Finch would make it happen.
A sheet was thrown over Simmons and he was carted away. Her shoulder wound was seemingly enough to justify the reason Simmons's wound was fatal when she was questioned by IAB.
By the time she arrived at the hospital, it was after midnight. There was no sign of John and there was no record of him being there. Finch must have paid the first set of ambulance drivers to take John somewhere. If that was the case, Finch would call when there was news. So, she went home and waited for hours and then for days. There was nothing but silence.
She called the burner phone numbers she had for Finch and John, but they were disconnected. There was no sign of them at the safehouse, either. At the end of the week, she managed to contact Elias to see if he'd heard anything. Nothing. By the end of a month, it was as if neither her man in the suit or his nerdy benefactor ever existed; though her breaking heart told her otherwise.
An errant tear fell down her cheek and was quickly whisked away by the back of her hand. A hand on her unharmed shoulder startled her. Was it Finch? Did she dare hope it was John? Was he even still alive?
"You still thinking about Wonderboy?" Fusco asked.
"Just thinking." Carter swallowed hard and tried to put John out of her mind. "How's the hand?"
Fusco's hand was another casualty of HR. At least his son was not.
"Still broken." Fusco plopped in the chair next to her desk. "I'm sure he's ok, Carter. Wonderboy has more lives than a stray cat."
"You're probably right. I'm going to knock off a little early."
"Sure thing." Fusco smiled at her. "You're a detective again. You can do that." As she headed toward the station door, Fusco called out to her. "Hey Carter, be careful. There still could be others out there gunning for you."
"Never leave home without my vest, partner." Joss smiled sadly as she remembered that wearing the vest was something John always reminded her to do.
As Carter drove home, the ringing of her burner phone surprised her. She scrambled to answer it. "John?"
"No, it's Harold. How are you, Detective?"
"How am I?" Carter raised her voice. "Finch, it's been a month. I haven't heard from you or from John. You haven't even called me to ask for help with the numbers. Is it John? Is he ok?"
"Detective, I thought it was best if I kept my distance for awhile. The FBI needs it's star witness to be above reproach."
She sighed. "I understand that, Finch. But why are you calling now? Why won't you tell me about John?'
"John is a topic of conversation that's best had face to face. I'll be in touch soon."
Joss's heart sank. John was dead. That was why Finch wouldn't tell her anything. How was she supposed to live in a world without John Reese? She wished more than anything that she'd told him how she felt about him when he bared his soul to her. She was just so stunned at his revelation that she couldn't speak.
Gingerly, Joss climbed the stairs to her brownstone. Once inside, she rested her back against the door and prepared to let her emotions out. The tears wouldn't come. All she felt was numb. She heard movement and drew her service weapon.
"Who's there?"
Then she saw an unmistakable form emerging from the shadows. "Hello Joss. I guess you weren't kidding when you said you might shoot me one day."
"John?" Joss stood frozen in place. She slid her weapon into her purse which she set on the floor. "Are you real?"
John stepped into the light. He'd been looking at the picture of her and Taylor, which was on a nearby sofa table. He had done this many times before. Still, he seemed a little different, lighter. Instead, of his traditional black suit and white shirt, he wore a grey cardigan, with a light blue shirt and blue jeans. Still present were his graying temples, his dancing eyes and that damn smirk.
"I know I usually wear a suit, but the sweater is not exactly wings and a halo."
Joss chuckled and shook her head. "I hate you."
"You can't. I didn't die."
She took a step closer to him. "Are you really, ok?"
"I'm fine, Joss. I was out of the hospital within a couple of weeks. I just stayed away because I didn't want things to get bad for you, not before the trial…not when you worked so hard to put Quinn away. I know the trial is still four months away, but I couldn't stay away. "
"I'm glad you didn't." She smiled again and moved another step closer until she was sandwiched between John and the table. He reached around her, between the picture frame and it's stand and pulled out the golden bullet. She fought back another grin. It was obvious that John had been in her apartment long enough to look around again. As he examined the bullet, she pulled it from his hand.
"That's mine. You left it for me, remember?"
He nodded. "You have something you want to give me in return, Carter?" He raised an eyebrow while continuing to watch her with his penetrating gaze.
Joss raised his hand to her heart. Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. "My heart John, it's yours."
John leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips. He was ready to deepen the kiss when he heard Harold's voice.
"Mr. Reese?"
"Harold, you have the worse timing. What is it?"
"Is Detective Carter there with you?"
Joss rested her head against John's chest and spoke through his earpiece. "I'm here, Finch. Why didn't you tell me John was ok?"
"Like I said, Detective, it was best left for a face to face discussion. I just neglected to specify to which faces I was referring, I take it you are pleased with the developments?"
As Reese stared deeply into her eyes, Joss purred, "I am." John leaned in and kissed her again.
"Very well, Detective. I will leave you and Mr. Reese to your canoodling. I suspect we may need to have a discussion about this development in the future, but for today Detective Fusco and I will handle any pending matters."
"Good bye, Harold...and no listening in for awhile, ok?" John tapped his earpiece and grinned broadly. He ran his fingers through her dark hair.
Joss looked at the man before her, the man she loved, with utter amazement. "Welcome home, John."
