Person of Interest: Mr. & Mr. Rinch: Part 2 (Harold Finch): Chapter 7
A/N: Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. It turned out to be a lot harder to edit than I'd initially thought it would be. All errors are mine. I hope it lives up to, and perhaps exceeds, your expectations. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated! There is a small reference to "Many Happy Returns" (S01E21) and "Bad Code" (S02E02) in this chapter, should anyone be interested.
Harold moved back to the other side of the barn, closer to the stall where John was being held. He didn't think Lucy had anything other than a slapjack as a weapon, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to be close to John just in case something happened. There was a shed on that side of the barn with an open doorway. In one corner were a few rotted logs sized for a wood burning stove or maybe a fire pit. The shed was deep enough that Harold could hide inside without being seen, and yet be close enough to John that he could hear the muffled voice of Lucy on the phone to her husband.
Gingerly sitting on the most decent log he could find, he used his laptop and the hotspot to begin gathering all the evidence he had on Lucy into one document. If he was lucky, he could show up with the evidence and use it to barter for John's life, as well as that of Mrs. Rice.
He then wondered if he should have moved to the house, to keep an eye on her. Surely John, even in his state, could take care of himself. Better than Mrs. Rice could anyway. But the more Harold moved around, the more likely he was to get caught, so he stayed put.
On the other side of the wall John was quiet while Lucy talked intermittently with Shawn. Harold hoped John was conscious again and was staying silent to keep himself alive.
He remembered John saying no one would want to kidnap a woman as angry with her husband as Barbara was. That meant one of two things: Barbara and Mike had been happy once. Happy enough that Lucy figured Mike would pay up to get his wife back. Or Lucy was trying to get them back together somehow. Which, upon reflection, didn't make much sense, except that the text message Harold had gotten almost proved it to be true.
If Lucy and Shawn didn't usually kill their victims, there had to be another reason Harold had gotten Lucy's number from The Machine. If she wasn't the perpetrator then she had to be the intended victim. They had been so sure she was the criminal, they hadn't looked into any other possibilities. And while it seemed obvious who would want her dead, it was most likely too late to do thorough enough research to be absolutely sure.
Harold rubbed his forehead in an attempt to stave off a headache at the thought that they'd been so stupid. There was nothing he could do now but wait and see what happened and protect Mrs. Rice and John to the best of his abilities.
He hacked into the hotel's reservation system and set them up in a new room with new identities, making it appear that they'd taken the room the day before. He and John would now be Horace and Joan Hawk. They would vacate their original room as soon as they got back to the hotel. The way John was bleeding, Harold wanted to be sure he was well taken care of before they left.
"I'm a monster and you're afraid of me..." John's words came roaring back to him in the silence, reminding him of a similar conversation they'd had a few years before:
"What will you do, Mr. Reese?" Harold asked.
"Show him what a real monster looks like," John said, with an angry, determined glint in his eyes.
You are NOT a monster, Harold thought to John. And I WILL get you out of this.
"You need to tell him how you feel, sweetie. I've seen the way he looks at you. That's not fake adoration at all."
Could Selina's words have been true? Did John really feel the same way?
Two years ago John had picked Harold up off a train station floor and made extra sure he was unhurt. Relief had flooded through Harold at that reassuring touch. Only yesterday John had caught him before he could fall off the obstacle course and held him steady on the walk back to the hotel. And there was no forgetting the massage John had given him that night. Never had Harold felt so safe and well cared for.
Don Hartwicke had talked to the group about trust in your partner just before they'd set off on their long walk in the woods. Now, Harold wondered how he could trust John with his life, but not with his emotions. He didn't recall ever trusting anyone as much as he trusted John. Maybe Nathan, but certainly no one else. Was this why John had suggested Harold hated the monster within him? Because he was trying, like a desperate idiot, to protect their working relationship by staying away, when all he really wanted was to be as close to John as possible.
When they got themselves out of this situation, Harold was going to have to tell John the truth. He was going to have to tell him about the loneliness that plagued him at all hours of the night and day, about how much he needed to be touched, held close, to feel wanted by someone who could be safe in his unsafe world, someone who wanted the same things from him in return. He could never be 100% sure Grace would be okay with his feelings for John, but he thought she might forgive him this if she could understand the situation he was in. He hoped she would.
As for John, what had he thought he would do or say, if he admitted the truth of his feelings? Had he really thought John would leave him to handle the numbers alone? He knew John, sometimes better than he thought John knew himself. Why had he thought these things about his friend?
John, I'm an idiot. Will you ever forgive me?
In the past, John had always been the one to rescue him from rough situations. This time, Harold would be the one to rescue John. And if he had to do it alone, then he would. Whatever it took, he would find a way.
A short while later, Harold heard the unmistakable sound of a drunken great horned owl. He packed up his laptop and went out to the tree where he'd last seen Selina, wondering who she'd gotten to help them. The cops would have been preferred. The identities of Harold and John Rinch were solid enough to pass muster with law enforcement in a pinch. Who he was not expecting were the two lesbian couples, Alexis and Genevieve Winters-Brown and Robyn and Marjorie Borich.
"I couldn't sleep," Alexis explained before Harold could even ask. "Selina found me wandering around in the gardens and asked if I wanted to help. I woke the others. Figured the more the merrier!"
Right.
Harold kept his hands on his messenger bag where he wouldn't be tempted to rub at his headache.
"Oh Harold, stop worrying!" Selina spoke up. "I called the cops first thing when I got back. Problem is, it's going to take them awhile to get here. Some nut with a gun climbed up a tree and won't come down. Apparently he's got his wife with him and they've got him surrounded. There's been a standoff for hours. I figured we might have to solve this one on our own. At least for now. We can present them with the evidence and the perpetrators when they get here."
Maybe this was a good thing. It could provide Harold enough time to get John, and get them both out of there before anyone could ask any questions.
"Besides, I assumed four farm girls would be able to handle one woman and her husband," Selina grinned. "We've got this, Harold!"
"Exactly," Marjorie piped up. "Let us help."
The four women gave him serious expressions. Thinking of John tied up, blood dripping down his face, Harold knew he needed all the help he could get just then. And they did look very capable of helping out, even if he was loathe to get innocent civilians involved.
"Just... promise me no violence. Please."
Selina snorted. "After what they did to John?!"
"We'll do our best," Genevieve said with a curt nod.
At the door to the barn, Harold paused to run over the facts of his favorite bird, the purple finch, with its raspberry-colored plumage, calming himself as much as he could in the span of a few seconds. He took a deep breath and slipped into the barn. He kept his footfalls as silent as possible so as not to alert Lucy to his presence until he was standing in the opening to the box stall at the far end of the aisle.
Lucy's head jolted up from the screen of her phone, where it appeared she'd been playing some sort of matching game. She stared at Harold, her mouth agape. Still tied to the other chair, John was awake, his eyes blinking at Harold in the dim candlelight. He started to shake his head, then winced, and didn't finish the movement.
"I'd hoped you'd stay safe," John said, his voice even softer than usual. "I didn't want you to attempt a rescue operation."
"I'm afraid it's too late for that, John." As Harold spoke, the five women came up to stand behind him, an immovable wall.
"What... the hell?" Lucy asked, still radiating shock.
John gave a faint smile and Harold assumed the women were looking fierce behind him.
"This is a rescue operation," Harold intoned. "John, how are you feeling?"
John didn't say anything for a moment, taking stock of his situation. "Dizzy. Nauseous. Headache. Scratch that. Splitting headache. I think she took an ax to my head."
"It was only a slapjack," Lucy confirmed. "How did you find us?"
"Planting a bug on someone shows you care, right John?" Harold asked with a raised eyebrow.
"But is it really planting a bug if I wore it willingly?"
It was Harold's turn to smile. John still had his sense of humor. That was a good thing.
Lucy stood up then. "Harold, you did good picking this one out. Hottie movie star looks and loyal to a fault. But, what do you say, John? I saw you watching the other women earlier and pushing Damon away every time he tried to force himself on you. Why don't we cut a deal. You and me and a beach in the tropics and all of your lame husband's money? I bet all you saw in Harold was the green of his bank account. I certainly wouldn't see anything else in him."
"If that's what you think, you don't know anything at all."
"Don't I?"
"Harold saved my life once, when I thought I didn't have one any more. That's more than anyone else has ever done for me."
"So you married your superhero? I didn't realize there were rules about that." Lucy took a step away from Harold but didn't let him, or the ladies behind him, out of her sight.
"Yes, and I think my superhero is attempting to rescue me, so," John winced again. "I'm going to let him carry on."
A/N: I was once on a ride-along with a deputy in North Carolina. Earlier that day the police had broken up a hostage situation involving a man and his family. The husband/father had escaped, and was in a forest, armed. The police had him surrounded and hours were passing by. While I was on the ride-along I got to see the map with the locations of the police cars surrounding him. I was told we were not allowed to answer any calls unless there was no other choice because there was no backup. Needless to say, it as a quiet ride-along, but still fun. I did the ride-along as part of the Writer's Police Academy. Google it. It's awesome!
