A/N: Just a little something to tide my lovely readers over until I finish the second part of my "Unbreakable Bond" series (which is well under way, I can assure you). Need I say that I was a little displeased with the series finale – and not just because my hero died? Even long before that I felt that Harold was entirely too far up on his high horse. Hence this little one-shot (for all my "Unbreakable Bond" followers: a little teaser, without actually being set in that 'verse).

Warnings: Spoilers only if you haven't watched 3x20 "Death Benefit" yet. And you better don't read if you don't know the difference between bashing and criticism.

Disclaimer: Don't own. If I did, everyone would have survived (except for the bad guys, of course). Quotes from 3x20 are marked as such.

Greater Sin

After John had made sure Sameen was in a safe place to rest and heal, he gave in to his need to go after Finch and clear the air. It took him longer than he would have liked to locate the man, and his search gave him more time than he liked to replay that evening's events over and over again.

With clearly visible apprehension Harold watched as John screwed the silencer onto the gun with deadly efficiency. "Mr Reese, it was never my intention for people to be killed because of the Machine."

John slowly raised his head. Back to 'Mr Reese', were they? Fine. Two could play this game.

"What do you think happened when it gave the government a terrorist number?" He turned towards Harold, now fully looking him in the face. "What do you think we used to do for a living?"

"That man is not a terrorist. He's just an opportunistic and corrupt pawn."

"That doesn't make the threat any less real." He knew. He'd been there before. Most of the world's warlords were opportunistic and corrupt pawns who were delusional enough to think they were calling the shots.

"We are not assassins. We protect people." And there it was again. "We protect people." Well, he'd heard that line before, too, although he was barely coherent at the time. That day, Harold had also tried to stop him from killing an opportunistic, corrupt power addict. Time to jog his boss's memory as well.

"Isn't that what we're doing, sacrificing the life of one to save the lives of many? Shaw, help me out here."

"Six months ago, I would've already put a bullet in that guy's head. But ever since hanging around you guys, I've kind of gotten used to saving people. But we've only been able to do that by trusting the machine. And if it's saying that this guy's gotta go, well, I think we should still trust it." If the situation wasn't so dire, John would have smiled at how far Sameen Shaw had come since they first met.

"John, I urge you to consider the consequences of this action."

"There are consequences to not acting. Like with Simmons and Joss."

Apparently Harold didn't get the clue that this discussion was over. "Don't do this."

"If we let him walk out that door, Decima wins. Samaritan will go live."

"It's a possibility but not a certainty. There may be another way. We've never been here." Finch was floundering. Badly.

"But are you really willing to take that risk? Harold? Since we started this, things have changed. We've changed."

"But the mission, our purpose, has always been constant – to save lives. If that's changed somehow, if we're in a place now where the Machine is asking us to commit murder, that's a place I can't go. I'm afraid this is where I get off, John."

And Harold Finch had been true to his word. He'd pulled out of their little operation. He just didn't realise that this wouldn't get him out of the ethical dilemma he was in.

John hardly ever engaged in ethical debates – not because he was unable to lead them, but because he felt he didn't have a leg to stand on. He also rarely told anyone "I told you so", mostly because it was a waste of breath. But he had his limits, too, and he wouldn't be vilified for trying to do the impossible.

"If you think you're taking the high road by getting off, Harold, think again," he said, startling the other man although he must sure have heard him enter the room.

"I'm not saying I don't understand your decision, Mr Reese. I'm merely saying I can't condone it. There must have been another way."

The slightly condescending tone was grating on John's nerves, a rare feat. "Now listen, Harold. I wasn't saying killing McCourt was right; I was just saying it was the lesser evil. And since we're talking ethics: I've heard it said that sometimes, trying to avoid sinning may be the greatest sin of all."(*)

Harold whirled around, indignation in his eyes. "I can't go against my conscience, Mr Reese!"

"Can't you?" John's voice was dripping with sarcasm now. "That's rich, coming from you. From the very beginning you've relied on other people to go carry out the course of action you started, with no regard to their consciences. So don't talk to me about keeping a clear conscience."

The other man deflated a little. "Maybe that makes me a coward, but I can't help it."

John stepped closer, invading Harold's personal space and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "No, that doesn't make you a coward, Harold. It makes you something much worse."

"And what would that be, in your opinion?"

The tall man took half a step back. He was done taking the other man's condescension lying down. With an icy whisper, he delivered his knock-out strike. "A hypocrite."

He turned to leave, but, his hand already poised to open the door, decided it was necessary to deliver one final piece of information. "One more thing, Harold." He waited a beat until he heard the slightly sharp intake of breath, a sure signal that he had the other man's attention.

"If I had wanted to kill McCourt, I'd have shot him in the head."

(*) I think this idea has been formulated by several people, but I quote here from German theologian and resistance fighter Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945).