three weeks earlier
Reese stood hunched against the cold, in his knee length overcoat. A frown on his lips, worry in his eyes, he watched as Finch slowly made his way down the icy street. That Finch had gone out after being holded-up in the library for three days because of the raging rain and snow storm that had brought New York to a stand-still was a puzzle, Reese wanted to solve it. "Where are you going Harold?" He was following his eccentric employer.
Reese had seen Finch quietly gather his coat and head out the back of the library, not saying a word about where he was going or even that he was leaving the building.
After all Mr. Finch was a very private man. It had peeked Reese's curiosity. So, Reese grabbed his coat and ran down to the front entrance and treading dangerously fast on the extremely icy sidewalks. He went around to the back of the building and just caught sight of Finch heading east around the next block. Reese glance up. Across the street, there were ice spikes hanging off the buildings. They were too large to be call icicles, some looked over five feet long and as big as one of his thighs. He had heard warnings about walking to close to high buildings.
There were very few people out on the streets so Reese had to hang back so if Finch did look over his shoulder, Reese could find a spot to duck into or behind. But Finch was being Finch. He was heading directly to his destination. There were very few stores open. Those that were open, were where the proprietor lived on site and still had electricity. Most of the power was out, but there were a few small areas that had back up generators or other sources of power. Six blocks later, Reese still had no idea where Finch was headed. It had started to sleet again.
Reese melted into a door recess and watched as Finch crossed the street mid bock. Slipping and sliding across the icy street, hands and arms flailing like a broken windmill in the cold wet sleet as he keep his balance. Reese found himself holding his breath for his friend, knowing that a fall on the icy street could be devastating for him. He smiled as Finch made it across, got a little better footing and started on down the street, heading to the corner.
Reese stepped out of his hiding spot and started to follow when he saw Finch do a funny little awkward sidestep and went flying sideways into a dark slot in the wall.
John moved into action. He half ran, half skated his way across the icy street and came to a sliding halt, bumping up against the wall just to the side of what he saw was a recess. He could hear voices mumbling and a moan. Quickly glancing he'd seen no weapons, so he stepped into the entrance of what turned out to be a hallway. Taking the three swift steps to where the attackers were standing over Finch, his expression set, his mind registered that the door to the entrance was broken open.
The shabbily dressed man on the right was raising a foot to kick Finch. The man never saw the punch that slammed into the side of his head. He fell sideways, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Reese moved so that he was standing over Finch in a protective stance, leaning in toward the other man. For a moment he thought he was seeing a ghost of himself from his past.
The man's hair was long and dark, blending down into a scraggly beard that was peppered with grey; covering a face with a lot of deep scars. There were spots where no facial hair grew. He was almost as tall as Reese. He wore multi layers of clothing under a well used, over sized military jacket, covering at least three shirts. His outer pants were more dirt than cloth and could probably stand on their own. They were tucked into a pair of military issue boots that were held together with duck tape.
Reese took all of this in, in less than a second. He looked into the eyes of the man across from him. He stopped in mid reach, shock crossing his face. He saw a pair of eyes he knew, a set of pale blue eyes he knew well. Surprise and doubt filled his eyes. His voice was a soft question. "Colby?" Even in the bitter cold Reese could smell old alcohol and body odor.
Reese saw the pale blue eyes narrow. He saw the fear of the name and knew what was about to happen. With fluid motion he blocked Colby's right hand and stepping over Finch he forced Colby back, away from Finch. Reese blocked the left hand that was swung at his head and then blocked the retreating kick that was sent as Colby moved back another step. Reese saw Colby shift into a right hand defense stance. Reese countered, going to a left hand defense position. His right foot moved forward, dropping his left shoulder down, he countered another punch and a sweeping kick. He saw Colby finally react to the left hand stance, and Colby's right hand came forward to open a path to Reese's jaw. Reese sidestepped slightly to the left, Colby's left fist sailed past Reese's chin and John sent a short non-lethal chop to the center of Colby's chest.
The blow moved Colby back several steps. He staggered and fell against the corner wall. Shaking his head as a dog might, as if shaking water from his shaggy head, he glared at the man standing before him. His eyes widened, a look of doubt came into the pale eyes. He was slowly coming out of the drunken haze and knew he was fighting someone with skills sharper than his right now. His eyes shifted, looking around. He was in a fight, there were two bodies on the floor and he was cold. Without thinking he turned and shot out the doorway into the ice filled street, scrambling to the right.
Following Colby's retreating figure, reaching out with a hand, Reese grasped just a piece of the tattered military jacket and it tore loose. Reese's feet hit the ice just inside the recess of the door and his feet slipped as he fell sidways. Throwing his hands out to stop the fall he got his feet under him. Finch's pain filled voice stopped him from pursuit. He stopped at the edge of the doorway, righting himself against the door jam. Slowly looking back toward Finch, propping his shoulder against the wall, he check around the corner of the entrance.
A choked whisper drifted from the floor. "Mr. Reese…?" a groan followed.
Reese stopped and looked back down at Finch, he was turned toward Reese and there was blood streaking across the pale face, his glasses were askew. Reese glanced once more in the direction Colby had gone and then stepped back to Finch. Taking a quick glance at the bum on the floor, he saw he was still out cold.
Going down to one knee "Easy Harold…" Reese reached down and helped the smaller man as he struggled to sit up. "Easy don't move too fast…" Reese straightened Finch's glasses.
Finch reached up with shaking hand and touched the side of his face, adjusting his glasses over his ears and nose automatically. He lowered his hand and was staring at the red smear across his hand. "Am I bleeding?" His voice was soft, an octave higher than normal, almost childlike. He touched his head again with the same hand and more blood came away. "Oh…I am bleeding." His eyes got even wider. What little color that was in his face left.
"Let's just sit here for a moment, don't move too much. Let me check you out." Reese's expert hands checked Finch for any broken bones and then he took a look at the head wound. There was a large bump just above Harold's right eye brow, the skin on the bump had been split and that was where most of the blood was coming from. There was a small set of scratches on Harold's right cheek, but it was already starting to clot over.
Reese glanced over his shoulder looking out the doorway that Colby had escape through. He took a minute to look again at the second assailant. He took a good look at the man's face. He was still showing no signs of coming around, but he was breathing. Reese looked back at Finch and saw the pain and panic in the hazel eyes, he could feel him shaking. Shock was setting in.
"Come on Harold…We need to get you back to the Library." Reese carefully lifted Harold to his feet, keeping a steady hand on him to make sure he had his feet under him.
Finch tried to turn his head and upper body to look at Reese but the pain shot through his neck and back, he smothered a gasp and felt his world spin. Reaching out, he clamped a hand on Reese's arm, even though Reese had him. His sight dimmed slightly and he heard Reese's voice as if he were far away, not right at his shoulder.
"Deep breaths Finch…that's it breathe deep…there you go…Steady…" John saw color start returning to Finch's pale face.
Finch focused in on John's dark coat. He could see the woven fibers, the snow droplets that were now frozen. He listened to John's soft voice. In a whispered voice he repeated. "Breathe…yes…Mr. Reese… I am breathing." He didn't see the smirk that crossed his companion's lips, but he felt Mr. Reese's hands as they guided him out of the recessed doorway and out into the snow.
It was snowing again, and not just the little flakes. These were large fluffy snow flakes and they were falling at an alarming rate.
John checked the direction Colby had gone, but there was no trace of him. The snow was coming down heavy. Reese directed Finch out onto the side walk and saw that visibility was down to about five feet with the heavy snow coming down. He carefully moved across the now snow covered ice. Locking the distance to the curb in his mind's eye, he made the curb and stepped out onto the street.
Twice crossing the street, he had a little skating episode with Finch and was glad he was able to keep both of them upright. He made the far side of the street and found a little shelter from the large snowflakes. He put his shoulder along the building and directed Finch back to the Library. The wind started to pick up, pushing at their backs.
It was blowing snow so hard by the time he got to the Library he almost missed the entrance, a shift in the wind told him he was past the construction cover that was over the side walk. Going in the front entrance he used his key to get them inside. Reese stopped just long enough to remove the snow from both their heads and shoulders. Finch had remained quiet the whole walk back and Reese was glad when he got Finch's over coat off and settled his boss in front of the computer. He saw some spark come back to those hazel eyes. "Finch don't move while I get a wash cloth and a couple bandages." He saw Finch look at him and was glad to see an acknowledgement.
Reese hurried, took his long coat off and tossed it into one of the many corners as he hurried into the room that held his supplies. He brought the First Aid kit out, which was more like what the ambulance drivers carried around, then a first aid kit, and he had added several extras to it.
He stopped at their utility room and got a washcloth and wet it. Walking back to where Finch was sitting he noted that his employer was looking blankly at him. He watched as Finch's eyes tracked his movement, but there was no expression on the computer genius's face.
Reese put the kit on the computer table and turned to face Finch. "Harold…do you know what day it is?" He saw those hazel colored eyes look up at him.
"It is Wednesday Mr. Reese." Finch moved in the chair a little… "Why do you ask?" There was a touch of irritation in his voice.
"Just checking, you took a hard hit to the side of your head…" While he was talking, he was reaching for the pen light he carried inside his suit coat pocket, pulling it out he pressed the small button. "I'm going to check your pupil's reaction…"
"All right…" Harold blinked owlishly. Glancing down at his hands he saw there was dried blood smeared across his finger tips and palm. He started to reach up toward his head, but Reese handed him the wash cloth.
"Hold this for a moment…" Reese reached with the now free hand toward Finch's glasses, gently removing them. He set them on the computer table. He stooped over and with the end of the pen light he touched his nose. "Look at me Finch…Look right here."
He studied Finch's reactions as he complied with the simple commands, he flashed the light across both hazel colored eyes, the right one first and then the left. He straightened up pocketing the pen light as he turned it off. Reaching out he took the wash cloth from Finch's hand. "This might hurt a little." As carefully as he could he started cleaning the blood from Finch's face.
"Ooohhh…that hurts…"
Reese flinched, glancing at Finch's eyes, his hand stilled at the edge of the lump that was now about the size of a small egg, his lips drew down in a stern frown. "I have to get this clean Harold…You don't want it to get infected." He studied the hazel eyes for a moment then returned to cleaning the wound, he tried to be even gentler, but he also knew from experience that it still hurt like hell.
When he was satisfied that it was clean he took several steri-strips and pulled the split skin together and closed the small wound, listening to Finch making small sounds under his breath. Then taking a large sized bandage he opened it up, pealed the tape off and dabbed a bit of ointment he had made up special onto the center of the Band-Aid. "This will probably hurt for a second but the ointment has got some numbing stuff in it and will help…" He applied it over the top of the lump and didn't react when Finch hissed his displeasure. He stepped back and surveyed his handy work. "I'll get you a couple Ibuprofen, and some ice…it will help with the swelling and the headache."
"Thank you Mr. Reese." Finch reached out and took his glasses off the table and put them back in place…
"Would you like some Tea?" Reese disappeared into his room, put the kit away and then walked back out. He hadn't gotten a response from Finch. He stopped and studied his employer/friend for a moment, worry creasing his brow. He started walking toward where Finch was seated in front of the desk and its computer. Finch had both elbows on the arms of the chair and was staring straight ahead, unblinking.
Worry came into Reese's eyes, the corner of his lips pulled down slightly. "Finch are-."
"I was mugged." He tried to turn slight so he could look at Reese, but it hurt too much.
Reese moved to stand in front of Finch, seeing the pain the movement caused. "Yes." He stood looking at Finch with a frown slowly starting to settle on his face, worry moved into his blue green eyes. He saw Finch look up and lock eyes with him.
His eyes had been on the computer screen, moving only his eyes he looked up at Mr. Reese. "You called one of them by name…?" Anger settled in those hazel eyes.
Reese did a slow blink. "I think I knew the guy that ran away… His name is Colby Abbot…We served together, we were in Tikrit." Reese's eye narrowed slightly as he saw a reaction on Finch's face
Finch broke eye contact and then looked back at Reese. "He was with you in Delta Team Alpha."
"Yes." The frown deepened, going into Reese's eyes."
"He was MIA, you too were captured."
"Yes, I was captured and got away, he was listed as MIA. When I got back I told them he was killed, they said there was no body so he was MIA." Reese glanced away and then looked back at Finch, he'd seen something in Finches eyes. "What's this about Harold?…where is this heading?" His soft voice got a little edge to it.
Finch reached up and touched the side of his head. Drawing a deep breath, he slowly let it out, dropping his hand back to the arm on the chair. He looked away. He had promised he would never lie. He looked back at Reese, concern in his eyes. "You were not the only Person of Interest I have kept track of over the years." He became uneasy, he adjusted his glasses, his eyes stayed on Reese's. "Your Mr. Abbot resurfaced a year after he went MIA, in Russia of all places. His finger prints were linked to an assassination." Finch swiveled slowly in his chair and stood up, using the side of the desk for a couple steps, he went to the multi-file drawer in the corner. He opened the second drawer down and leafed through some folders and then pulled one out.. "This is what I have on Mr. Abbot…" He slowly walked back to the computer desk. Gingerly Finch reached out handed the file to him. He slowly sat back down as Reese took the file.
Reese took the file handed him and moved back away from the monitors and Finch. He skimmed over the pages, his face going to the blank mask he had perfected so long ago. Walking over to the plexus glass board they used, he stopped, quickly glancing through the report and then looked at Finch over the file. He blinked and shuffled his feet. "Let me get the Ibuprofen and some tea…" His voice was flat and even. He set the file down on the corner of the desk and walked off into the small room that served them as a kitchen
Finch swiveled the chair and followed Reese's retreating back into the kitchen and swiveled back around and shifted the chair to the key board. His fingers flew over the keys and the tap, tap sound filled the quiet room. He tried to bring up the cameras in the area where he had been mugged, but everything was down. Typing in a name, he read a number. Reaching up, he gently touched the side of his face. His eyes went to the building's windows and it looked like a white out.
He looked from the computer screen to the file cabinet, slowly again getting to his feet and went over and open the file drawer again, pulling out a numbered file that he had pulled up on the computer. He walked back to the desk and sat back down. He could hear Reese moving around in their little kitchen store room. Again he asked the computer to search and it came up with snowy screens.
Folding his hands in front of the keyboard he listened to Mr. Reese moved around in their kitchen store room.