The two men sat outside a small boutique café in downtown Manhattan. A place called Petrossian, specialising in exquisite food and gifts ranging from caviar and fish to cheeses and chocolates and teas. Harold was a regular visitor; he enjoyed the finer pleasures in life. They sat at his usual table and watched the people, the traffic and the city go by.

'If you have any questions about Annie please ask, I feel like it need to make up for this morning John.'

'You didn't she would say all that, I wasn't expecting that's all. I've been Mr Reese for so long, sometimes I even forget my name. It doesn't matter anymore; I'm not that man.'

'But he's part of you. We are similar John, practically the same just you chose the army and I chose computers. We both use aliases and we are the only ones who know our real names, but the things that happened when we were those men make us who are today John.'

'I didn't really have a choice. It was go to prison or go to war. I chose the name Reese when I joined the army, to save my mother the disappointment, she died during my training. I didn't want anything to tie me to that place. I chose war because I wanted an adventure.'

'Did you find what you were looking for?' Harold knew it was a dangerous question to ask.

John paused, he took a bit of his cheese platter and thought about it. He swallowed and took a deep breath. 'In some ways yes I did. I saw many beautiful things, the simple things, sunrises and sunsets, stars and moons. There was one night in Afghanistan, we're on night watch, the middle of the desert, there were so many stars in the sky that night, it was full of them and beautiful. I hoped that Jessica was looking up at them too.' John's face darkened. 'And some things I saw were horrible. We received intel, we had to collect someone with powerful links to the Taliban. We stormed his house. I kicked in the door and yelled the commands. There were children crying but we got him. I shoved a bag over his face and we carried him out the door. He was shouting at us in another language, Arabic, and we bundled him into our van and drove away back to the compound. We flung him into a holding cell. I went away to check something with my Captain, y'know whether any followed us. And when I came back my men had stripped him of his clothes and they were pissing in his hands like he was some sort of animal. Everyone is human. I told them to stop but then I joined in. I don't know why I did that, it was dehumanising and disgusting. I regretted it so much afterwards, I felt wrong and dirty. But that wasn't all, we beat him with guns and our batons again and again and again. He was nearly dead. I stood up and looked him in the eye. He was pleading me to kill him, we needed to question him, find out what he knew but we didn't get the chance. I shot him dead, one bullet through the head.' John closed his eyes and paused, forcing the memories back down. 'The next thing I know, I'm being shipped off because I'm good at killing people. Black Ops wanted me because I'm good a killing people.' He said with disgust. 'So yes I got the adventure I was looking for, but I was so eager to be someone else I didn't see what I was becoming till it was too late.'

Harold had stopped eating a while into John's speech, he couldn't digest food and what John was saying, and he understood why John felt that way. He was a trained killer and would always be. Silence fell between the men. John's phone buzzed and he took out his pocket. He looked at the text message, puzzled. Harold saw this.

'What is it?' he asked.

'A message in binary.'

Harold signalled for John's phone and John gave it to him. Harold's eyes read through the message before him:

'01010011

01101111

01110011

01110011

01111001

01001010

01101111

01101000

01101110'

'It's from Annie. It says 'Sorry John'.'

'So she can see and hear everything.' John chuckled. 'She's good Finch.'

Finch smiled and checked his phone, his smile dropped and his tone turned serious. 'It seems that Detective Carter wants a word with you. She's not happy John.'

'She rarely is with me. I'll walk you back.'

Harold called over the waiter and tapped the card machine with his black AmEx. Harold shakily stood up, some days the pain was unbearable. They left the café, John stood closer than normal to Finch, protecting him from the mass of people.

John reached the top of the stairs first and pulled the gate across. Harold turned towards the computers, he sat at his desk and started typing. John stood watching Finch.

'Will you be ok?'

Finch nodded as best he could. 'We are never ok Mr Reese, but thank you John.'

John turned around and left the library. Finch waited until John's footsteps evaporated into thin air. He stood up and walked through the maze of corridors to Annie's room. He slid the bookcase across and stepped inside.

Inside, Annie was sat on the floor with her legs crossed but her feet turned up. The posture reminded Harold of the Buddhist monks he'd met Tibet when he was younger. He found their peace comforting. Annie's eyes were closed, but they moved frantically beneath her eye lids. She held her hands in mid-air, they twitched and tremoured. Harold recognised the movement and slipped inside the cage. He picked up two pens off the floor and fed them into Annie's hands, he then held up two pads of paper and waited for her to finish. He could only imagine what she was seeing and hearing in her mind, but part of him feared it. He took the paper out the room with him.

Harold walked to the small admins office which was now a bedroom. Nathan had used it as a bedroom long before Finch had.

Harold walked up the great stone stairs late one night. Nathan stood at the computers, shutting them down for the night. He looked at Harold as he emerged from the stairs.

'Bit late isn't it Harold?'

'I hadn't heard from you, I even asked Olivia. She said she hadn't seen or heard from you either.'

'Well you found me. What can I do for you?'

'Nothing. I just need space.'

Nathan raised his eyebrow at Harold. 'Something happen with Grace?' he was concerned.

'No, not really. Every now and then I lack the confidence and think she could do so much better than me.'

'Oh. I'm sorry.' Nathan walked over to him and put his hands on Harold's upper arms, he looked him in the eye. 'You two are perfect for each other, don't doubt it. If you're ready to go back you're welcome to stay here.'

Nathan walked over to the small admins office and opened the door. Harold looked inside at the single bed and small table inside.

'You sleep here now?'

'Yes. Olivia won't have me staying. This is my home.'

This room was now Harold's home. He had any apartments and houses around the city but they all left like they belonged to someone else, his home was with Grace and he gave that up. The library that once was Nathan's home had become his. Harold walked into the small room and laid on the bed, arranging the pillows to support his broken body. He put his lead back and closed his eyes, he thought of Annie. She was his creation, a daughter in a way and he now had to look after and protect her. No, stop.