A/N: Too lazy to invent a crazy storyline with a different hospital, I dug out my creative licence and put John in St. George's hospital ... you know, the one from 1x10 "Number Crunch". I hope you don't mind. Spoilers for 1x20 "Matsya Nyaya". Not much plot, just picking up some loose ends for further development. A tiny bit of Careese for you lovely shippers, but only if you tilt your head and squint.

Disclaimer as per usual: I don't own Person of Interest and any of its characters, just my OCs whom I shamelessly inserted in the amazing story brought to us by the fantastic creators of the series. I don't make any money from this, but I enjoy writing this story immensely, so if that counts as profit, sue me.

New Alliances

Hannah thought her heart might stop when the paramedics rolled the two gurneys into her emergency room. It was one of the weeks when she was doing shifts at the hospital, and it had been mildly crazy so far. However, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her brother lying there still and pale and unconscious ... again.

Reaching deep for some professional detachment, Hannah donned fresh gloves and stepped forward to meet the paramedics. Medical terminology was flung back and forth, and within less than a minute the doctor had a fairly good idea of what was going on and what needed to be done.

Giving John a quick once-over, she determined that his condition was not life-threatening. No sooner had she finished her instructions to the nurses than the heart monitor on the other patient started to blare, leaving her no choice but to abandon her brother instantly.

The doctor realised quickly that they were fighting a losing battle and what the eventual outcome would be, but there were necessary steps to take and protocols to adhere to. So, when she finally called the time of death, she was neither surprised nor overly frustrated. The only thing that remained for Hannah in moments like these was the sober and humbling acknowledgement that, despite all medical advancement, it was not human beings who had the final word over life and death.

Discarding her gloves after a few seconds of solemn reflection, the doctor started to step over to her other patient, only to freeze in mid-motion. For a few moments she couldn't decide whether she should be alarmed, amused, or touched by the scene playing out in front of her.

At first she was startled to see the female police officer who had been there that night on the hospital roof, and later on during their hasty retreat from the parking garage, approaching her brother. As much as Hannah wanted to do something, anything, about the impending encounter, she drew a complete blank.

Then she just watched, thoroughly mesmerised by the interaction between her brother and the policewoman. She saw the gentle hands steadying John in his ill-advised attempt to get up. She saw her brother's fingers curl trustingly around the woman's arm, his eyes raised to meet hers, both of them apparently not noticing anything that was going on around them for the slightest moment. She saw the dark-haired woman with the chocolate-coloured skin say something to the pale man with the salt-and-pepper hair, who responded by getting up on unsteady legs. She saw the petite police officer pull a blanket around the tall man's shoulders, her hand keeping it in place while at the same time providing support and comfort – and finally she saw her brother snake an arm around the woman's waist, drawing her slightly against his side and walking off with her, away from the prying eyes of the other police officers present in the bustling emergency room.

*POI*POI*POI*POI*POI*

The whole scene didn't take more than a minute, but it was deeply intriguing. With a small, fond smile, Hannah tore herself from the spot she had been rooted to, busying herself for a few minutes with grabbing the supplies she would need to patch up her brother. When she thought enough time had passed so she could follow the pair without drawing suspicion from anyone, she shouted to a nurse that she was leaving for her lunch break and to page her if she was needed.

It didn't take her long to find the two runaways in a quiet corridor off to the side of the ER. "I think you forgot something, Mister," Hannah announced in her best doctor's voice, making both her brother and the police officer jump.

To his credit, John's mask slipped back into place within moments. "And what might that be, doctor?" he asked with the lopsided grin that he knew could melt any woman's heart.

"Your I.V., for starters." His sister held up a bag with a clear liquid and pulled out a sealed package with tubing from the pocket of her lab coat with her other hand.

"Wait, I know you!" the policewoman threw in when she recovered from her surprise at being caught.

"I doubt that," Hannah remarked drily while re-attaching the I.V. to John's arm.

"No, I do. You were with John and Harold the night–"

"I suggest you do not finish that sentence, detective, or I might just remember where I saw you first." The doctor's steely grey-blue eyes held the policewoman's gaze for a long moment before proceeding to clean the wound on John's shoulder.

The former CIA operative watched the exchange, calculating the risk or benefit of telling the former army interrogator the truth. Before he could make up his mind, he noticed the moment all the pieces fell into place for Detective Carter.

"Oh. Oh! She's your ... you two are ..."

Hannah looked John in the eyes, silently giving him permission to disclose whatever he felt necessary.

"She's my sister," he whispered, giving the policewoman a look that conveyed beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was strictly classified information.

"Dr. Hannah Silverstein," Hannah introduced herself, her voice only marginally louder than her brother's.

"Detective Jocelyn Carter," the other woman replied quietly. An expression of shame crossed her face when she remembered their first meeting all those months ago. "I'm sorry about–"

Again Hannah interrupted her. "Please don't apologise. I remember quite distinctly what you did for us that night. I never got the chance to thank you, though. So ..."

John let out a sharp hiss when Hannah pulled the edges of the shallow bullet wound closed and taped them in place with butterfly strips.

"Sorry, I'm done in a second." The doctor completed her handiwork with a large adhesive bandage to the back of his shoulder and helped him into a clean shirt.

"Where did you nick that from?" John teased his sister while buttoning the pale blue cotton shirt that was – unsurprisingly – just the right size.

"Need to know," Hannah deadpanned, disposing of the used material in a nearby biohazard bin. She checked John's I.V. one more time, pulled the blanket back around his shoulders and briefly squeezed his uninjured arm.

"I'll be back in half an hour to remove the I.V. Detective Carter, please make sure my brother doesn't run off before that. He needs what is in there," Hannah explained, pointing to the bag with the clear liquid. Then her features softened, as did her voice. "He might not acknowledge it or show it, but his body has suffered a shock, even if his mind hasn't."

Joss gave her a warm smile. "That won't be a problem. We'll have to go over some stuff anyway."

"Good. Thank you." Hannah paused for a second, making it clear that she wasn't just talking about this very moment. "And if you ever need anything ..." She fished out a card from her breast pocket. "Give me a call." Hannah glanced at her brother who was following the exchange with what looked like nervous interest. She couldn't help but grin at the anxious frown on his face when she said: "And let's meet for a cup of coffee one of these days. We could compare notes, you know ..."

A/N 2: Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think, so – since I'm not a mind reader – feel free to drop me a note