Hey guys. I just thought this was extremely fitting, it being today, and considering what major event this show is centered around. I hope I didn't make it too cheesy!
Finch stared at the date in the corner of his monitor. Such a small thing, but it had caused so many not-so-small problems. Death, destruction, panic, heartbreak. It seemed to him as if the whole world was reliving that day. None would bring it up in conversation outside of their 'moment of silence' for the ones lost; none needed to. Everyone walked slower, spoke softer, laughed less on this day. It was a day of remembrance for those who lost their lives.
For most of the citizens of New York, it was also a day of mourning. Thousands of people flooded cemeteries and monuments to pay their respects, but again, no one remembered out loud. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts, wishing for a way to change the past, because time did not heal all wounds.
All of this was true for Finch as well, probably more so. That day had been a rude awakening for him, a slap on the face to remind him of what was important. He had money, he had intelligence, he had a close friend, but what did any of that matter when people were dying?
Finch hadn't even known about the attack until that night, being hard at work making money. Maybe he could have foreseen it, built the Machine before tragedy struck, but he was too self-centered. Thousands had payed the price for his selfishness.
Ironically, Finch was the 'dead' relative mourning on this day for the one he left behind. Death was a relief, a release from the pain of the world, but dying was not a luxury he could afford. He was atoning for his mistakes, just as he surely would be in whatever afterlife he ended up in. He only hoped that he made a difference before his death caught up with him. 'Sooner or later, we'll probably end up dead,' he thought grimly.
But this day was not only the anniversary of a tragic disaster. It was also the beginning of something great, and hopefully, something good. The day the Machine was invented, even if it hadn't been built yet. The day Harold Wren set out on a path that would lead to the best and worst moments of his life.
Today was the anniversary of the Machine. The day it was born. Finch gently wiped a tear from his eye as he thought about everything that had been lost because of that one day twelve years ago. "Happy Birthday," he said wryly as he stood up. He knew the Machine would hear him. It always did.
~In honor of those who lost their lives, and all the ones who were left behind to pick up the pieces.~