A/N: Don't own POI. But you know what the doctor says: a drabble a day keeps the angst away.
Why did it have to storm the one day he didn't have a umbrella? The man briefly glared up at the sky before continuing to walk along as his clothes soon became sodden and drenched in just minutes.
It really didn't matter whether or not it rained, it was just the idea that counted. No matter what the pain was constantly floating around, boxing him in a cloud of misery, and there was nothing that could actually get through the surface of his soul. Nothing seemed to have much an affect when loneliness truly took over.
Once she was gone, he carried a pain in his step. There was an ocean of numbness that seemed to have slowly dripped into his body over time and he became more disconnected with the world. He would spend his time walking down the street, almost like a vegetable or zombie.
On a superficial level, he still hadn't lost his purpose. But when he faced failure most of the time, it just brought the real lesson closer: he would never truly win. The short and incomplete victories were always overshadowed by the failures.
"Hey! You!" He turned, feeling a sharp pain in his neck. The limp wasn't helping and the rain stuck to him like cold wax.
But suddenly, the world of misery disappeared and someone broke through.
"You didn't seem right, drenched in the rain. Kinda like a soaked bird." Harold Finch merely looked blankly at the stranger who held a beaten down umbrella. Lionel Fusco suddenly fumbled with it, as he saw a confused look on the guy's face.
"Keep it," he offered. It didn't seem to quite register with the poor guy though, so he put the umbrella in his hand.
"I got another one at the precinct." He awkwardly finished, before glancing around at the receding rain. "Sides, what's the point in having an extra one if you don't share?" Simple words, for a simple man. They seemed to strike a deeper chord in Harold, awakening him from his comatose state of existence. The wax seemed to melt off the previously defeated man and he nodded at the detective. It seemed like a rather dramatic affect, but unexpected acts of kindness always changed ones perspectives.
"Thank you, detective." He muttered, but the wind picked up his words and carried them safely out of sight.
Their official meeting was not to be for quite a while.
A/N: The first of many to come :). I'm going to try my hardest to knock out one drabble a day, and as a bonus, there's two for the price of one today xD. I love me some finch and fusco 3