Chapter 07
Harold squared his shoulders and didn't move under John's scrutinizing gaze. The absolute astonishment on his face made Harold's insides twist with apprehension. Maybe John was right and they could postpone their conversation, but he already underwent the torture of getting himself out of bed. He wouldn't give up the chance to resolve their situation once and for all.
"Why?" John asked quietly.
"I once told you, that sooner or later both of us will end up dead, actually dead this time," he met John's eyes, even though his neck protested. They were too close, Harold had to lean back and strain his muscles.
"I remember."
"I didn't take into account how that particular experience would feel, when it came to you," Harold smiled quickly, as he confessed the truth. The smile was gone a second later. "I lost people, John. You know almost everything about me."
"Ingram and Grace."
"Yes," the old wounds still hurt. The government killed Nathan in an explosion on a ferry and Harold had to protect Grace by leaving her. "What I couldn't have anticipated was, that you would become such a good friend." Harold felt the same painful squeeze of his heart when he said the same words to John two days before, as he was shutting him into the vault and saving his life.
He could see John recoiling slightly and shifting away, remembering the situation. Harold had hurt him deeply with his words. "In the end, when you tricked me with the Machine, and you were so far away in danger instead of me, I came to the realization, that you were the one person I couldn't live without."
Harold's eyes were slowly filling with tears, partly from remembering the feeling of losing John. A great deal was his discomfort of keeping his neck in the wrong position, but he couldn't hide from John and break their gaze.
"God, Harold."
Harold let himself be pulled into John's embrace. One of John's hands was protectively cradling his neck and allowing him to move it into much more comfortable position. Harold closed his eyes and sneaked his arms around John's waist with a relieved sigh.
"You know I can't let you do things like this, Harold. I would have followed you, if you didn't make it. Once upon a time, a jackass gave me a purpose, but I grew to love him more than the job itself," John drawled.
Harold's entire body relaxed. He carefully pressed his stomach to John's body and breathed out. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so calm, which was not a surprise. John usually meant safety and reassurance.
"You need to rest," John whispered tentatively.
"I'm resting right now," Harold muttered sleepily and in a moment he was rewarded by John's quiet laughter. He almost forgot how contentment felt like. Harold certainly couldn't remember the last time he heard John chuckling, let alone laughing. The last few months had been hard on all of them.
"Hey!"
Harold flinched, when he heard the accusing tone of Ms. Shaw from the door.
"What the hell are you two doing? He's suppose to be asleep, he was dead yesterday, John. It's a miracle he's even standing now."
"Ms. Shaw," Harold extricated himself carefully. "I assure you it's not John's fault."
"You're full of pain meds, so I'm not having the conversation with you now. He should know better!"
It was better not to argue with Sameen if she was in one of her moods, but Harold steadily held her gaze to let her know that he disagreed with her.
"Fine, fine, do as you want. Rip your stitches out, bleed out, see if I care," she put the food and a new laptop onto the conference table and went to the bathroom. Doors slammed after her.
"That went well," John murmured teasingly. "Bed or couch?"
"Couch will do," Harold held John's arm in a painful grip, when John helped to situate him on the sofa. In a minute, Harold was moaning in delight over delicious Chinese take away. He raised his eyes, when he felt John's gaze on him.
"You have to be kidding me," John mumbled to himself, but Harold still heard him.
"Beg your pardon?"
John cleared his throat and pointed to the door Sameen went through few minutes ago. "I'm going... after her."
"To the bathroom?" Harold blinked in confusion. John would bother Ms. Shaw in the bathroom? "Why?"
"That was not her usual level of fury. Also I didn't need to hear you make that sound. So excuse me."
What sound? "John, please explain!" Harold couldn't turn around and follow him with his eyes, but he could still talk. "John?" What would Harold do to stop John from leaving? His mind was stuck on their default interaction. "Mr. Reese!" he raised his voice. "What sound?"
Harold breathed out with relief, when he felt John putting his hands on the backrest of the couch behind him. "I apologize. I wasn't aware..."
"Hm."
The skin on Harold's neck tingled, when he felt John lowering his head and heard him humming in confirmation. He was aware John never used that tone with him. Ever. Harold would certainly remember his reaction to it.
"Are we on the same page now, Harold?" John continued lowly in the proximity of Harold's ear and Harold couldn't do anything else than nod with a flush spreading over his face. The words didn't help at all. He tried his utmost to suppress the shiver of his body.
"Ms..." he cleared his throat same way as John few minutes ago. "You wanted to go after Ms. Shaw." Harold finally grasped what John had wanted to do before he called him back. He never felt more relieved that he was alone to shake off the effect John Reese had over him.
