Gaaaaaggghhhhhhh I'M SO, SO, SO SORRY! I didn't mean to make you guys wait so long, it's just that school started and I went on vacation and then when I finally wrote the chapter I didn't have a chance to post it for like three days and I'm just listing excuses. Please accept my humble apologies along with this gift basket of assorted goodies! *gives basket with chocolate and British actors*
Grace stared in shock at her not-so-dead fiancée as he moaned softly and screwed his eyes shut. She didn't understand what was happening, how it was happening. She couldn't even form a coherent thought as this nightmare unfolded before her. She gingerly reached up to touch his face, but stopped just before she made contact with his perfect features. What if she touched him and he turned out to be another hallucination?
Detective Stills suddenly stood up, and Grace remembered with a start that he had recognized Harold. What was going on? She was utterly confused as Stills stalked over to the man he had shot. He yanked the body up and Grace saw that he wasn't dead. Yet.
"Where's the exit?" Stills growled dangerously. The man coughed weakly, but managed an evil smirk. "Why does it matter? Your friend's as good as dead by now." Grace gasped inaudibly as Stills jammed his finger into the hole in the man's stomach. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the gruesome spectacle as he screamed and writhed against Stills' iron grip.
"Where. Is. The exit?"
The man pointed feebly at the door he had entered through, but couldn't seem to muster the energy to speak. Stills nodded grimly and dropped his victim carelessly to the floor. He made his way back over to her, and Grace flinched slightly as he held out his hand to her. His face softened immediately, and she mentally shook herself. This was the Detective Stills she knew, and whatever else he had done, he had proven on more than one occasion that he wanted to keep her safe.
"Come on, Grace," he said gently as he helped her up. Grace stood in silence as everyone around her talked, trying to process everything that had just happened.
"Taylor, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom, really! But what about Finch?"
"Are you alright?"
"Grace." She looked up at Stills and belatedly realized that the last question had been directed at herself. "We need to leave now," he said. She nodded absently. Everything was just too much.
Stills gently lifted Harold off the ground, wincing every time he jostled him. Stills carried him quickly and carefully to the door leading out, leaving the other three to follow behind. Up ahead, stairs leading upwards appeared from the shadows of the hallway. A few police officers ran out of a branch in the tunnel, and Grace sighed in relief. Finally, someone who didn't want to kill- she gaped as Stills smoothly shifted his grip on Harold and pulled out his gun, shooting the three officers in rapid succession.
Before she could form words to express her disbelief, Joss grabbed her arm from behind and dragged her up the stairs behind Stills. As they burst out of the stairwell into an empty building, Grace tried to pull away. "Wait, what-"
"There's no time!" Stills said urgently. He led them through yet another door, but this one led outside. Grace looked up at the night sky as they jogged toward a couple of cars and wondered how long she had been underground. Her attention was called back to Detective Stills as he spoke. "We need to get him to one of his private doctors," he explained as he opened the door and set Harold down in his car. "He can't go to a hospital."
Suddenly, the reality of the situation crashed down on Grace. She stumbled over to Harold and fell to her knees as tears ran freely. "Are you insane?" She whispered to Stills. "He'll die if he doesn't go to a hospital! What possible reason could he have for not going to one?" What possible reason could he have for being alive and not coming to her?
Joss rested a hand on her shoulder. "Grace, I know what you're going through, but he can't go to a hospital. It could be dangerous." Grace glared at her. "What are you talking about?" The Detective hesitated, and Grace saw that she had no idea why it was dangerous, either.
"John?" Joss asked.
"There's a reason why he let everyone believe he's dead," he said simply. "Now we need to go." He sat in the driver's seat and motioned for Grace to get in. She tentatively slid in next to Harold and held his head in her lap as John started the car. His face was pained, which was to be expected, but it seemed to go deeper than that. Grace suspected that Harold had been unhappy for quite a while. He had a few more lines around his eyes, but other than that, he was exactly the same as the man she remembered. But was he the same? He had faked his death, she assumed, to get away. Did he not love her anymore, was he just too much of a coward to tell her?
"Grace..." she dropped her gaze to his face, but he didn't open his eyes. "No..." he shook his head violently. "No! John..." he trailed off into unintelligible whispers. Without thinking, Grace ran her hand over his forehead. "Shh, Harold, it's alright," she said soothingly. He was by no means off the hook, but she would save her anger for later. Right now, Grace had to make sure that there would be a later.
Reese drove recklessly to the same foreign surgeon who had stitched him up all those months ago. Finch had called Madani the best in the business, and Reese hoped it was true. He didn't know what he would do if Finch didn't make it, but he had a sinking feeling that he was going to find out. John tried to push those thoughts away, but they refused to go.
He could hear Finch struggling, but Grace seemed to be calming him down, even in his sleep. Reese was astonished that the poor guy had lasted so long without her; John had been devastated when his love had died. Fortunately, Finch still had a chance, if Reese could save him. He pulled up to the morgue where Madani worked, grateful that earning a medical license took so long. The former surgeon had kept his job to keep busy while he finished his medical exams.
Reese jumped out of the car and ran to open the other door. "Here, let me take him." For a moment, he thought Grace would refuse to give him up, but then she moved out of the way. "Thank you," he said sincerely. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and rushed Finch into the morgue. The halls were empty and dark; most of the employees had long since gone. Reese walked carefully to one of the numerous gurneys. He set Finch down gently, but despite his caution, the injured man still groaned in protest. Reese winced slightly, but pushed the metal table quickly down the hall. Finch didn't have time for him to be careful.
Madani was humming to himself as he cleaned his work station when Reese burst through the door. He looked shocked to say the least, especially when recognition flared in his eyes. "Aren't you the one I-"
"Yes," Reese interrupted. "And I'm offering you the same deal he did." He pointed at Finch and waited for the surgeon to nod. "He was shot in the abdomen. I don't know how bad it is, but he's been like this for about twenty minutes." Reese watched as Madani inspected Finch, ready to stop him if he made any threatening movements.
"This doesn't look good," the doctor informed him solemnly. "Judging by the placement of the wound, I'd say it's more than likely that his spine and at least one major organ has been damaged. Even if he survives, there's a good chance he'll never walk again." Reese nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Finch already hated that his leg was handicapped; how would he react to being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life? If he even made it out of surgery, that is. "Do what you have to."
Madani nodded decisively and pushed him towards the door. "I keep my medical supplies close at hand," he began, "since your friend here started coming to me. I have everything I need, and now you must leave. Wait outside or go somewhere, but you'll have to wait until I call you back in."
There was no way Reese was going to leave Finch here alone, but waiting outside was probably a good idea. He didn't want to make Madani nervous, or he might accidentally complicate the surgery. "I'll be right outside," he said hoarsely. "Please save my friend." His last comment was added quietly, but the surgeon heard it anyways. His eyes softened as he attempted to comfort the ex-assassin. "I'll do my best, but it might take a while."
Reese stayed as Madani set out everything he would need, and didn't leave until absolutely necessary. When he made his way back to the front of the building, Carter was standing with her arms crossed, with Taylor and Grace just behind her. She looked nearly as worried as she had when Taylor was missing, but Reese ignored her and went straight to Grace. "Are you alright?" He said as he rested his hands on her shoulders. She focused on his face as he spoke, as if she had been in a far off place and was just now returning to the present.
"I-I don't know," she stammered. "I mean... is that my Harold?" She rubbed her temples and laughed nervously. "Of course it is. But how? He died three years ago! How is he here?" Reese pulled her close as she buried her face in her hands. "It'll be okay, Grace. Harold will be fine, and then he'll explain everything."
Grace suddenly jerked away. "And who are you, Detective Stills?" She emphasized his name, and Reese knew his cover's usefulness had come to an end. "Do you expect me to believe that you know my fiancée and just happen to be around whenever I need help?" Reese winced as she mentioned her pending marriage.
"Fiancée?" Carter interjected in surprise. "You're his fiancée?" Grace looked at her, and Reese followed suit. The detective and her son were both standing slack-jawed. Surely she must have suspected something, but Reese knew it must be a shock to hear it confirmed. "Wait, you didn't know?" Grace asked. Everyone looked at Reese, and he found that he'd much rather be facing a gang of knife wielding assassins.
"Finch has his reasons for everything he's done. In fact, he's probably got at least three for every choice he's ever made," Reese mused before realizing he was getting off track. "What I'm trying to say is, Finch would never had left you if he thought there was any chance of being with you without putting your life in danger."
"I don't care what his 'reasons' are! I buried him. I cried for him for three years! And all this time he's been only a few miles away, living in the lap of luxury!" Grace pressed her palms to her forehead as she finished. Reese absently noted with approval that the red head had noticed Finch's expensive taste in clothing despite everything that was going on. She could be a good detective if she set her mind to it.
"Do you really think he left you just so he could live it up in the Big Apple?" Reese said. He was starting to lose his patience; did Grace actually believe Finch could be so shallow?
"No! Maybe- I just... what am I supposed to think?! And he can't even be bothered to check up on me, he has you do it for him!" Grace backed away from Reese to stand by herself. Reese tried to move with her, but Carter shook her head. "Let me," she mouthed silently. John didn't want to leave anything pertaining to Finch in anyone's hands but his own, but it might be necessary just this once, so he nodded.
"Grace?" Carter said softly, and Reese was surprised when she whipped around and threw her arms around the detective. Carter was apparently expecting it, and her arms were open wide to receive the embrace. "It's okay," she murmured.
"Why would he just leave me all alone?" Grace cried, and Reese was suddenly ashamed of himself. He had basically ignored her all night while she stared at her possibly mortally wounded fiancée who should be dead. He hadn't helped her at all. He'd just shoved her in his car with an unconscious Finch and left her in the front of a morgue. It was a wonder she'd kept calm as long as she had.
"He's a good man," Carter said soothingly. "He helps people, that's all he ever does. I don't know much about him, but I do know he would never hurt you like that." Reese nodded in approval, but didn't intrude on the moment. He hoped Grace realized that Finch had never wanted to do what he did.
Grace nodded weakly and sniffed. "He always did like to take care of people," she agreed. "I... I think I need some time." Carter immediately let her go and Reese stepped aside as she walked to the small bathroom on the other side of the room. Reese waited until she closed the door, then focused his gaze on the entrance. No one would enter without him knowing about it.
Carter's approach did not go unnoticed as she came over to stand near Reese. "Please tell me I didn't just lie to her," she said bluntly.
"What? Do you even need to ask?"
"Well, John, I hardly know you, and I know Finch even less! Excuse me for thinking he might have just gotten sick of his girlfriend or was too afraid to marry her."
Reese sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. Finch had to leave her because the government tried to have him killed. He didn't want to put Grace in danger." He thought he did a good job of being vague, and hoped Finch would be angry at him for all the secrets that had come out tonight. Angry was good; angry meant you weren't dead. Carter nodded and remained silent next to him as they waited for Grace or Madani to come out, whichever came first.
Carter sat down next to Taylor as he leaned his head on his fist. "So Grace is engaged to the Little Guy." He stated in confusion. Carter knew exactly how he felt. Since when did Finch, the reserved, socially awkward computer genius have the time or desire to have a real human relationship? He was way too 'private' in her opinion. But then, Grace was very trusting. Maybe she didn't care that Finch never told her anything?
"I know exactly what you mean. But I guess there's someone for everyone, right?" If Finch could find someone to love and love him, then it must be true. But what if he didn't make it? What would happen to Grace if his injuries were too much and he died a second time, while she had to stand by and watch? Nothing good. She'd probably try to kill herself again, or go into depression. It was a fine mess Finch had created for them. Carter hoped he made it through, and not just because he might possibly be her friend, but also because he deserved a good slap across the face from one sweet little red head.
After what seemed like several tense hours, but was probably only twenty minutes or so, Grace emerged from the bathroom. Her face was still wet from tears, but she had stopped crying and looked like she had pulled herself together somewhat.
"Hey," Carter said as she stood. "Need anything?"
Grace focused on her and shook her head, but kept her face blank. "No... I just need to see Harold."
Carter got the feeling that the next conversation those two had wouldn't be pleasant. She just hoped they would have a chance to work things out. Before Carter could answer her though, hurried footsteps sounded from down the hall. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and waited impatiently as Madani made his way towards them.
"Well?" John demanded before anyone else had a chance to speak. Madani looked around at them, and Carter suddenly thought she might not want to hear whatever he had to say.
"Your friend, he is... stable, for now. Thankfully all his major organs were intact, but the bullet grazed his spine. He's sleeping now, so I won't know how badly he was injured until he wakes up, but you can go in if you'd like," the surgeon said.
Carter and Grace followed John as he almost shoved Madani aside in his rush to get to Finch. Taylor was just behind the two women, but no less eager to see if the tech genius was alright.
Carter had seen plenty of injuries in her line of work, and even more death. But no matter how many times she looked at someone hurt or dead, it never prepared her for the sight of a familiar face in a hospital bed, or worse, a coffin. Thankfully, Finch was looking almost like his old self, minus the fancy suit. However, his pale complexion and the pain written all over his face ruined any opportunity for Carter to pretend like nothing had happened.
Everyone was deathly silent as they watched Finch's labored breathing, none wanting to wake him up. It soon became apparent, though, that they were quieting themselves for nothing as Finch cracked open his eyes.
"Hello," he managed weakly.
I feel horrible making you all wait so long D': I mean I know a ton of you are kind of indifferent but hey I'm still sorry! I totally ran out of steam for this story... I might have to come back to it when real life calms down some.
