Old Shame

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest.

Note: It doesn't all have to be conspiracies, does it?

"This whole thing," Nathan declared, "is really, really stupid." He took another swig of scotch.

"You've already said that," Harold pointed out.

"Well it is," Nathan said, nodding decisively.

"Don't you think you've had enough to drink?" Harold asked. "More than enough."

"You've already said that, too," Nathan accused.

"Yes but while the stupidity of the situation remains fixed, your level of intoxication keeps going up," Harold pointed out.

"I need it so that this thing gets less stupid," Nathan explained.

"It's not going to happen," Harold said gently.

"I just need another drink," Nathan decided. He tried to stand up but tripped on his own chair.

"The fact that you can't even stand up means that you've had enough," Harold said mildly.

Nathan made a face. "You're too bossy."

"I'm too right," Harold said, amused.

"You always are," Nathan grumbled. "It's just so stupid!"

"Yes, Nathan, I know," Harold agreed.

"Your back, though!" Nathan exclaimed. "You needed surgery and everything! And it's all my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nathan," Harold said sharply. "It's not anybody's fault and it's certainly not yours."

"But I'm the one who made you go to the Swiss Alps with me," Nathan reminded him. "And I'm the one who pressured you into going skiing. And I'm the one who forgot something and so had to leave before the ski lift had that horrific accident."

"Nathan, no one could have predicted it. It was a freak accident," Harold said firmly. "Trust me, after everything that happened I made very sure that it was, in fact, an accident."

"But if I hadn't forgot something you might have been on an earlier lift or you could have caught a later one with me," Nathan protested.

"You had no way of knowing. And if you hadn't forgotten something, maybe you would have been on that lift, too. Four people died, Nathan. I couldn't bear for it to be five," Harold said seriously.

Nathan leaned over to awkwardly pat Harold on the shoulder and almost fell over. "You're a good friend, Harold Wren. If that's even your real name."

Harold didn't so much as blink. "You say the strangest things, Nathan."

"I was watching a spy movie and I think that you would make a good spy," Nathan said randomly. "But of course I feel bad! I'm fine and you were really hurt and will never be okay again!"

"Careful, Nathan," Harold said lightly. "You're going to make me feel like all of those hours I put into physical therapy were a waste of time."

"No, they helped you get better but you're never going to be better better, you know?" Nathan asked rhetorically.

Harold sighed and looked down at his feet. "Yes, I know."

After a few false starts, Nathan managed to stumble to his feet. "I'm going to go get another drink."

"Nathan, you've had enough," Harold said again.

"You're not the boss of me!" Nathan said childishly.

"See, it's pronouncements like that that only prove to me that you really do not need to drink anything else," Harold said calmly.

"My prono…My pronu…You're being mean," Nathan accused. He clumsily reached into his pocket but when he grabbed the key to his liquor cabinet, it flew out of his hand and into the pool. "No!" he cried, falling to his knees with a sickening 'thud' that made Harold wince but that Nathan appeared not to notice.

"Nathan, you're being ridiculous," Harold informed him.

Nathan stuck his hand into the pool, trying to reach the keys.

"Nathan, come on. You've got more alcohol out here already," Harold said, gesturing to the bottles cluttering the poolside table.

"I need my key," Nathan said stubbornly.

"Well it's at the bottom of the pool now and neither one of us is in any condition to go get it," Harold pointed out. "Get one of the people who work for you to do it."

"I can't," Nathan said, shaking his head. "It is late and they all went home."

"Some of them live here," Harold reminded him.

"It is really really late," Nathan repeated.

"It's barely midnight. It's not that late," Harold argued. "And you can give them a bonus or whatever for waking them up if that makes you feel better."

"But I don't want to give somebody a bonus for doing one little thing for me," Nathan protested.

"Alright, then don't give them a bonus," Harold said, perfectly alright with this.

"But that would make me mean," Nathan said, frowning.

Harold rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Look, Nathan, I don't care if you give them a bonus or a day off or whatever but you can't get that key by yourself."

"Why not?" Nathan challenged. "Because I'm too rich and a suit and can't do anything by myself? I bet you think I'm helpless without my employees, don't you!"

"Nathan, where is this coming from?" Harold asked, stunned.

"Well," Nathan said, standing up and slowly making his way to the deeper end of the pool, "I may not have actually built the machine but I can get my own damn keys!"

"Nathan, what are you…that's not even the right side…Nathan!" Harold cried out, getting to his feet as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, his injury meant that his speed was greatly reduced and Nathan, still clad in his business suit, had already jumped into the pool. Harold slowly made his way over to the edge closest to Nathan who was at the bottom of the pool blindly grasping around for the key since he never could keep his eyes open underwater and didn't have glasses with him.

"Nathan!" Harold shouted. "Nathan, you need to breathe! Come up for air!"

Nathan either couldn't hear him or wasn't listening.

Harold took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do. He was perhaps less fit to go for a swim than Nathan was in this inebriated state with his injury but something had to be done. Nathan was really starting to scare him.

He slowly submerged himself into the water, wincing, but had only made it a few steps before Nathan came to the surface.

Nathan came to the surface face-down.

Harold immediately turned him over and dragged him to land (a much easier task since he was in the water than if he had to move him on land). He was rather an expert on staying alive but his best efforts failed to resuscitate his friend.

And the key still glittered mockingly at him from the bottom of the pool.

Nathan deserved better than this and Harold would do everything he could to make sure that, at least as far as other people knew, he got it.

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