Chapter 25 - John's POV

Something went wrong. John knew without a doubt. His eyes opened instantly and he gasped: "Harold?"

His default worries were always for the man's safety or his health. It was almost funny how tuned into his presence John found himself, right now he didn't have a certain someone in his room.

"Calm down, Wonderboy. He's fine. I locked him in his bedroom with the dog. No one can get to him. I have the only key."

Lionel was the last person John wanted to see. He had to move. With some difficulties, he rolled onto his side and tried to get up. The key word in this situation was tried. There was no other option in this scenario, he had to move no matter how painful it felt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

John ignored Lionel's hand on his good shoulders. "Getting up . How does it look like?"

"Why the hell would you do that? Stay in the freaking bed, you moron."

"You don't get it." John had his feet on the ground, but needed a few moments to rest. The ribs were killing him. Breathing really didn't help at all. He would have gladly trade any other injury, ribs were the most annoying of them all.

"I don't get what?"

"He's not safe here with Root under one roof. She will get inside if she wants to and Bear will let her. He's too used to her."

"Well, get him a new guard dog. You can have a nice little doggy family together."

John growled in anger.

"Just saying. Speaking of family... That friend of his. Bit not right in the head. He can't shut up about you two. Why the hell he thinks you are together? Am I suppose to tell him the truth or let him live with delusions?"

"Let him. It's more useful that way," John finally had enough strength to stand up. After doing so, it was taking calming breaths again. "It can't hurt if he thinks I'm a deranged deadly soldier, who will protect what's mine. I have an excuse to stay with Finch all the time."

"Ok. Whatever you say."

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him."

"Yeah, well... He needed some rest. I bet he didn't sleep much, when he was with Andrew. I found him sleeping in the armchair here, thought it would be better to shove him to bed with his back and all."

John nodded. "Good thinking, Lionel."

"Sometimes I do think, you know."

"Yes, and I'm surprised every time," John smiled. It wasn't his goal to goad Lionel or make fun of him. It was just so easy.

"You're a funny guy. Let's see what the boss will be saying once he saw you, hm?"

Thankfully, they didn't find out. Harold was fast asleep with Bear by his side on the bed. If it wasn't for the dog, John knew Harold would be awake in a second no matter how exhausted he actually was, but he trusted Bear with his life. John could relate. Better trust the dog then the Machine.

"You can wipe that smug face," Lionel murmured to him and left.

John quietly closed the door and lean against them. Standing up was so tiring. With a sad sigh he carefully manipulated his battered body on the bed. Bear watched him with intelligent eyes.

"Not a sound," he warned the dog. The last thing John needed was for Harold to wake up and scold him for all the things he did wrong in his life, including walking after the second surgery. Once on his back, he could finally relax. He left a gun near his fingers and close his eyes. This was peaceful. He could hear Harold's calm breathing, Bear's too and nobody else existed in his world right now. He didn't even fight the sleep.

Someone was watching John intensively, it was the first thought piercing his consciousness. All the hair on John's neck stood up with alertness. He was fighting his body's reaction to spring into action. He needed to appear relaxed and sleepy. Where was he? The mattress under him was too hard. John couldn't remember any resemblance. Hotel? No. House. The information finally flew into his brain.

Greer's men, Harold missing, two days out of his mind with concern, house in the middle of nowhere. They found Harold and John ripped his stitches out. Harold's bedroom. He relaxed even more with the knowledge. Harold was watching him.

"Do I have to ask how did you ended up here, Mr. Reese?"

John smiled. Harold wasn't angry, more like amused. He slowly opened his eyes. "It was the safest option in this situation, Harold."

"Safest?" Harold's eyes pointedly slide to the gun between them.

Oh. Which meant Bear wasn't on the bed anymore. He couldn't have been sleeping that deeply, could he? If he didn't feel Bear moving, than someone could enter their bedroom. It was impossible. He would sense something. Or not? "Where is Bear?"

"He's on the floor on my side."

Ok. Good. It wasn't ok. It was not their bedroom! "Lionel told me you were here. I don't want to leave you alone, not with Root here."

"I assure you Miss Groves didn't make contact with me with the only exception of my return, she didn't seek me out and I have no desire to wander around the premises alone."

"That's good." They fell into companionable silence. It wasn't strained or uncomfortable. It felt right. Like all the times John spent in the library with Harold quietly working on his computer and he himself reading a book or cleaning guns. The old days. The days filled with easy flirting, making fun of each other and growing closer with every Number they saved.

John didn't want to break the silence, but he needed to explain something. "I talked with Root." Harold tried to adjust his back in better position for watching him. John was glad he didn't answer. "Well, not just Root, to your Machine too. The prank calls, it's really Her. She was sending you my heartbeat."

He's had no idea how to explain the rest and not give himself away.

"John-"

"It doesn't mean there is something wrong with my heart or any part of my body. She sent you my heartbeat every time I was... agitated. It was Her way of trying to communicate to you something was wrong with me."

There. It wasn't so hard. Half the truth was much better than the whole truth. "She's a Machine. She doesn't understand human reactions." John forced himself to meet Harold's penetrative stare. "I found out today. I didn't want to keep any secrets between us. I know the Machine makes you nervous every time She calls. So... this is one thing you can stop fretting about. It doesn't mean any problems in the future. I told Her to stop calling and scaring you."

Anything else John has to clarify? Oh. Yes. Root. "When I hung up, Root was there. I didn't want to talk to you about this at first and worry you for nothing, but Root threatened to go and tell you herself. So... here we are and the mystery is solved."

John made himself breathe calmly and really hoped the Machine won't call Harold now. It would be a disaster. How would he explain that? The room was thankfully silent.

Harold's eyes never waver from his. At the beginning, they both tried to outstare each other and show stubbornness. Maybe catch each other off guard. Now it was disconcerting. Why couldn't John look away?

He couldn't quite pinpoint the emotion in Harold's eyes. John would easily say he knew Harold's reactions. He knew the moral compass, the line between amusement and annoyance, but he never saw this intensity. It made John's mouth dry and heart speeding inside his chest cavity. Almost like the time in Harold's kitchen. Which was not a good moment to think about.

"I... I..." Really? Stutter? He was reduced to that now? Did John wanted to say something intelligent? Why the hell he tried to say something? He was the silent type. The brooding, silent type in the corner of the room making sure nobody was messing with Harold.

John cleared his throat. Now was the time to get up and do something. Anything. "Harold?"

"I am fairly sure I worked on my ability to create the Machine with the understanding of human behavior, Mr. Reese. As a matter of fact, I taught the same Machine to calculate it's every action by human reactions. So, please, forgive me, if I'm doubting your words and let me ask you again, why did She called me every time your heart was beating madly in your chest? Why did she called me and not you?"

John was completely lost. He could tell lies, but nothing even remotely made sense to him. Harold was right to called his bullshit. "Maybe... She's got some... concerns?" The traitorous heart really wasn't any help.

"About?"

"My heart condition?"

"Which we already established you are not in a danger of. She knows that better than anyone with Her access to the results of your tests. She called me today, John. On the porch."

John lowered his eyes and carefully maneuvered one limb after another so he could stand up with less pain. It was hard, but he finally managed. Once he got the breathing under control, he turned back to Harold. He needed an out. "Can we move on when I say it's not a problem?"

John didn't break the eye contact. It was Harold's turn.

But their discussion was interrupted. John sharply turned around, backed in front of Harold and pointed a gun to the door, where Shaw forcefully opened them: "Guys! Time to go!"

The conversation was over. Their safety held priority.

"Bear!" John didn't have to give him any commands. He was already by Harold's side and alert.