Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.
QUEENSBRIDGE PARK
Chapter 29: after Death Benefit
It's been more than week since Finch disappeared. One minute, he'd been following Reese and an injured Shaw down a busy New York street. The next minute, he'd been gone, and they hadn't heard from him since.
Reese has been busy taking care of the Numbers while Shaw reluctantly is sidelined to recover. He tries to ignore the voice in his head telling him that if Harold Finch doesn't want to be found, he won't be. Not even by two of the world's best former spies.
Reese sighs as he clears the Library's board of his research on the latest Number. Bear whines from under Finch's desk.
"I know, I miss him, too."
As he walks Bear back to his apartment, he takes out his phone and dials Elena's number.
"John?"
She sounds sleepy. He closes his eyes, realizing it's three in the morning in Rome.
"Sorry, I've woken you. Never mind —"
"No, I'm awake now. What's wrong?"
He doesn't answer.
"I know something must be wrong for you to forget the time difference, John," she says gently. "You usually know what the time is here better than I do."
Time ticks by, and Elena waits.
"You ever make a choice you know was right but feels wrong?"
Like, moving halfway across the world to avoid confronting your feelings about someone? Even though you're now carrying on some sort of undefined long-distance relationship with him?
"Yeah, I know a little bit about that." She pauses. "Can you say anything more?"
"I was going to do something Harold didn't like. I didn't end up doing it but ..."
"But just considering it changed everything?"
Is it possible to be both astonished and not in the least bit surprised that with just a few words, she perfectly understands?
"I'm sure Harold will come around —"
"I don't know where he is," he confesses. "He just ... left, and I don't know how to reach him."
"It's not so fun being on the receiving end of that, is it?" she can't help but point out.
"Too bad I can't just send Lionel to beat some sense into him."
"Oh, was Lionel able to land a few blows when he came after you?" she asks in interest.
"No comment."
Elena rolls her eyes. "You should make that your tagline, John."
But underneath their banter, she can tell he's still preoccupied.
"Listen, I was there when you were hurt after ..." She trails off, not quite sure how to describe his vigilante crusade against Joss Carter's murderer, so she just gives up and pushes on. "When you were hurt. I saw how much you mean to Harold. That doesn't go away just because of something you thought about doing."
Even if that 'something' was killing a United States Congressman at the behest of an artificial intelligence? He wonders if she would still feel the same way if she knew.
"He'll be back, John," she assures him.
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because ..." she lets out a slow breath. "Because I know how hard it is to walk away from you ... and how hard it is to stay away. It's damn near impossible."
He's silent for a moment. "You seem to be doing a pretty good job, considering you're 4,200 miles away."
"Considering we're talking to each other right now, I'd say not so much."
She hears him sigh on the other end of the line, and her heart aches.
"Oh, John. I know you don't let a lot of people in, but the few people you do let in, you don't let them go. And I think Harold is exactly the same way. He'll come back."
He's silent for so long that she checks the phone to make sure the call is still connected.
"El, if you're one of those people, does that mean you'll come back?"
She answers his question with one of her own. "Am I one of those people?"
She hears just a hint of amusement in his voice. "How many people do you think I call at 3 a.m. just to talk?"
"I don't know, how many?"
She wonders how long they can keep answering each other's questions with more questions.
But then John, as always, surprises her.
"Just the one, El. Just you."
