Ello, readers! Congrats to those who made it past the first chapter! Please let me know if I made any mistakes and read on!


Finch looked up as Reese walked into the Library. They had just finished helping a number, and John had a cut on his forehead to show for it, but was otherwise unharmed. "Well done, Mr. Reese. Hopefully Mr. Chelly will lay low long enough for this incident to blow over. Nothing new has come up, so you may-" suddenly, his computer beeped.

"Never mind," Finch sighed as he limped back to his desk and Reese smiled. Even in the fading light, he saw Finch's face suddenly pale. "What is it?" He asked, but Finch ignored him. Reese looked at the screen and sucked in a breath as he saw the new number. It was Grace. "I'm going to her house. Now." He said as he ran down the steps.

Finch sat down in front of his monitors as Reese left. He quickly copied Grace's picture and sent it to the two detectives, along with her address, then called Carter. "Let me guess," she said over the phone, "you need me to break the law. Again."

"This is no time for jokes, Detective! The woman I sent you a picture of, she's in immediate danger. I need you to help us find her as soon as possible!" At the moment, Finch didn't care if Detective Carter found out his connection to Grace. He just wanted her out of harm's way.

Carter must have picked up on his urgency, as Finch could hear her push back her chair and order Fusco to get their car. "Don't worry, Finch, we'll find her." He nodded, knowing she couldn't see him, and hung up. He grabbed his coat and walked as quickly as his leg allowed to his car. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he couldn't just sit in the complete safety of his Library. Not this time, not when the number was Grace.

By the time Finch reached her house, the detectives were just walking in the door, guns drawn. They saw him pull up and waited for him to limp over. "Hey, Mr. Glasses," Fusco greeted. "We were just gonna go in, take a look around. The door was busted in." Finch nodded. "That would be Mr. Reese. He's... a bit enthusiastic about this one."

Finch could see the questions in their eyes, but he waved them off. "Please, let's hurry. I need to know what happened." He needed to, but he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to.


Carter cleared the room before she let Finch enter, just in case. He seemed to know where he was going and walked straight to the computer in the corner. Carter watched the doorway to make sure no one else came in, but turned when she heard something fall. Finch had knocked a pen holder off the desk by accident, and he had a death grip on the back of the chair. Carter let Fusco take the exit as she leaned over his shoulder to see what had gotten him so upset, and was saddened by what she saw.

I'm sorry to whoever is reading this. I didn't want to cause any problems, but I couldn't do this anymore. Every day, I woke up alone and remembered what I used to have. I lost the one thing I couldn't live without, but I'm going to find him. Like I said, I didn't want to make this any harder than it is, so if I haven't been found yet, I'm down by the pier where I used to paint.

I'm sorry.

~Grace~

Carter hated suicide. She was always called down, but there was nothing she could do, no justice for the victim or their family. But Finch seemed to be taking this personally. Had he never worked with a suicide case before?

"Take me to the pier," he demanded. "What, you too good to drive yourself?" Fusco joked. Finch wasn't amused, and neither was Carter. "The sirens will allow us to get there much more quickly," he explained as he left the room. Carter followed him out and into her police cruiser. She barely gave Fusco enough time to get in the back seat before she turned on her lights and sped off, following Finch's directions.


After what seemed like hours, Grace's pier finally came into sight. Finch didn't know when he started calling it that, but he didn't have time to think about it. In the distance, he saw Reese running toward the water. Why... Finch nearly had a heart attack when he saw someone sitting on the railing. The car was just close enough for Finch to see Grace's red hair before she jumped.

Carter stopped the car mere seconds after Reese dove into the water, and Finch nearly tripped in his hurry to get out. He ran to the edge, as much as he could run, and was about to join his love and his friend, when Fusco caught the back of his coat. "Whoa, there, Rambo. I know you like savin' people, but what're you gonna do that Mr. Happy isn't doin' already, eh? Besides, he'd kill me if I let you go in there."

Finch glared at the detective, but didn't argue; he was right, for once. So, they stood at the edge and waited. Finch called his private medical team to send an ambulance. Almost a minute passed before John broke the surface, dragging Grace's limp body. Both detectives leaned down and helped them out, while Finch stood back, feeling useless. He couldn't help without getting in the way, not with his stiff injuries.

The instant John was clear, he gently laid Grace down on the ground. No one spoke as he checked to see if she was breathing. The answer was written all over his face, and he quickly began trying to restart her heart. Finch fell to the ground on Grace's other side and held her hand as John worked, hoping and praying.

Eventually, Reese stopped. "I'm... I'm so sorry Finch... I don't... She's..."

Finch was in shock. She couldn't be dead. "Keep trying," he whispered. It was a testament to Reese's devotion that he didn't argue with him. Finch didn't care that the detectives knew Grace wasn't just some random victim to be helped. It didn't really matter anymore.

Suddenly, Grace began to cough violently and spit up water. "Grace!" Finch cried, causing Fusco and Carter to jump. "You're alive," he continued. He didn't care that he was crying, either. Grace's breathing eventually steadied, but she was shivering, and her eyes were unfocused. "Harold?" She said in confusion. "Am I dead?"

"No, Grace," he replied. "Not yet. But I need you to go back." She shook her head slowly. "I can't, Harold. I can't leave you."

"Don't worry. You'll see me again someday. I'm always watching over you. But promise me one thing; never try to harm yourself again," Finch said forcefully. Grace nodded slightly as her eyes closed. It was as close to a 'yes' as he was going to get.

Finch looked up to see everyone else watching him. Reese looked relieved, Carter reeked of suspicion, and Fusco... Fusco was confused, as always. "My doctors should be here any second. If Grace wakes up, you are to tell her that Detective Stills happened to be out for a walk when he saw Miss Hendricks. Anything else was a hallucination. You may not, under any circumstances, tell her I was here. Am I understood, Detectives?"

After the pair both gave their consent, Carter rather reluctantly, Finch nodded his thanks. "If you could return me to my car, Detective Fusco?" He was the least likely of the two to ask him questions about what had happened tonight. Fusco shrugged, and they walked back to the car.


The ambulance had arrived and one of the private EMT's was wrapping Grace in thermal blankets when she woke up. The EMT immediately called Carter over. "What happened?" Grace asked weakly. "Detective Stills saved you from drowning, that's what happened," she said seriously. "Mind telling me what you were doing, jumping off the pier this late at night?"

Grace had the decency to look ashamed. "I-I left a note at home," she offered. Carter shook her head. "Not good enough. What was so bad that you thought killing yourself would be easier?"

"I lost someone a while ago, and I just couldn't deal with it anymore," she said as tears appeared in her eyes. Carter softened her stance. "Look, you're freezing, and it's late. Why don't you stay with me tonight, and we can talk about this more later?" She was trying to be friendly, but there was no way she was leaving this woman alone any time soon, especially after what they had gone through to keep her alive.

"You said Detective Stills saved me?" She asked suddenly. Carter nodded, but before she had a chance to speak, John appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm right here, Grace. You're lucky I happened to be out tonight."

"Detective, was there... someone else here? Someone with glasses?"

"No. Just me and the police officers who responded to my call for assistance." Carter had to swallow a snort; John was laying on the 'I'm a detective' act a little thick. Grace seemed disappointed in his answer, and Carter wondered how she knew Finch, since she obviously did.

"You should get some sleep, now, Grace. You've been through a lot," John prompted. He helped her lie down and pulled the blankets up. "I have to go now, but Carter will take care of you."

John took Carter's arm and led her away after he was sure Grace was asleep. "I need you to watch her for a while. We can't let her do something like this again." Carter sighed. She hoped Grace wasn't as stubborn as John. "Yeah, I'll watch her."

"Thanks, Carter. And whatever you do, don't mention Finch. You heard what he said; he doesn't want her to know about him." And with that, he walked away, leaving Carter with more questions than ever and a suicidal woman to babysit.


Alright, yeah, I couldn't kill Grace. I thought about it, I really did. But then I realized I wasn't writing a one shot anymore and... this may actually turn into a tiny, little story if people want it to. Review please! How else will I know you don't want the story to end here?