Chapter 14

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Having circled the block twice already without seeing anyone remotely resembling John Reese, Joss Carter was starting to worry if maybe Finch had given her the wrong address. As she waited at a traffic light, Joss's eyes roamed the streets. There was a bus stop with a couple of old pay phones to her left. A few people were waiting at the stop for the bus uptown. She scanned their faces and cursed under her breath. Her shift had ended hours ago, and only the adrenaline and worry of finding John - who was most likely injured - had kept her going well beyond the point of exhaustion. The relief of Finch's call had also brought fatigue crashing down on her. She was tired and irritable, and starting to lose her patience.

A knock on the passenger side window startled her and new adrenaline was being rapidly pumped through her system. "Jesus Christ!" She unlocked the car doors and watched as John folded his long frame into the seat beside her and the cars behind her started to blow their horns as the light turned green. She crossed the intersection before turning to the man beside her. The worry-fueled tirade that lay on her lips died the moment she got her first real look at Reese.

Saying that he looked worse for wear was an understatement. Normally she would have cracked a joke at his unusual attire. But when she saw that the blue scrubs top he was wearing was severely stained with dark splotches that looked suspiciously like dried blood all wisecracks were forgotten. She only saw a glimpse of the left profile of his face before she had to refocus her attention back on the road, but she couldn't help but notice that the color of his face nearly matched the thick, white medical plaster that was doing a poor job of covering up a blue and purple bruise at his hairline.

She took another look, and before she could stop herself she said, "You look like crap."

"Nice to see you too." John frowned. Well, he tried to, but it ended up morphing into a painful wince. The drug the doctor had given him was wearing off and his head was starting to let him know. But he couldn't worry about that. Not yet.

"Seriously, John, you look like you could use a doctor," Carter sounded annoyed, yet the crease in her brow gave away her worry.

"I'm fine. Just get me back to the safe house," John said tersely. He pointed at medical plaster on his head. "Besides, I already saw a doctor."

Joss's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she navigated the streets. Reese's act of nonchalance would have just annoyed her on any other day. But today she was tired and worn out enough to be getting pissed off at his disregard for his own well-being. The way he squinted at the sunlight and the hard lines of pain around his eyes and tightly drawn mouth told her more than he probably would have liked her to know.

"You know, there's no shame in admitting when you are hurting. You are not Superman. And no one expects you to be."

Reese turned his face and looked at Carter's profile. The low anger in her voice had surprised him. "I am aware of that," he said.

Joss threw him a quick glance. "Are you?" she asked, then faced forward again to stare out the windshield. "With the crazy stunts you pull, and getting yourself into trouble like this all the time, I'm not so sure."

John looked at her for a few more seconds, then his gaze traveled to the city outside the windshield. He knew that somehow Joss Carter had gotten it into her head that he was a good man. A man worth saving. But he had a feeling that trying to dissuade her from that notion would not go over well at the moment. It must have been just as long a day for the detective as it had been for him.

"Actually," he said with a small smirk playing around his lips. "I think I'm more like Batman."

Carter shook her head, smiling against her better judgment. She knew that he was trying to deflect. "You know," she said, growing serious again, "even Batman got defeated once, when he allowed himself to be chased from one crisis to the next without stopping to rest until he was running on fumes - both physically and mentally. He was no match for Bane then, and literally got his back broken."

She threw Reese a glance and couldn't help but smirk at his raised eyebrows and the mix of amusement and astonishment on his face. "I never took you for reading comics."

"Teenage boy, remember? I may have picked up a comic here and there. And I sat through hours of rambling about how the movie totally butchered the original storyline..." She trailed off as John's smile grew wider. She stopped the car at a red light, and turned to look at him. "What I'm saying is, don't let Finch and whatever you two do be your Bane."

John's smile wavered. "Careful Detective. You almost sound like you actually worry about me." He deliberately kept his tone light and teasing. But this time there was no answering smile on the detective's face.

"We all do, John. We all do."

Reese averted his gaze, and Joss sighed. "Just try not to get kidnapped again and promise me you'll get some rest."

"I will," John said softly. "After this case is over."

"Fair enough." Carter nodded. She knew that was as good of a concession as she would get. John turned his head to look outside his window and Joss was more than content to let him brood over what had just been said in silence for the rest of the trip.

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"John?"

Reese startled awake, blinking at the bright daylight and definitely not remembering having fallen asleep in Carter's squad car. He immediately recognized the neighborhood and that they were parked down the street from Finch's safe-house. He rubbed his hands across his face to dispel the remaining fog of sleep and with one hand on the door handle he turned to the detective. "Thanks for the ride."

Carter eyed him warily. "You know that nap does not count as 'rest'," she said with more than slight exasperation. John chuckled. "It was worth a try."

Shaking her head, Joss watched as Reese stiffly climbed out of the car. If the wreckage of the car that she had seen was any indication than she was pretty sure that John Reese's body was just one gigantic sore spot. She still couldn't believe that the guy was actually still walking and cracking jokes like nothing at all had happened. Luck of the crazy, she assumed.

Turning around and bracing himself on the roof of the car, John bent into the open door. "Go home and get some sleep yourself, Detective." He shut the door before Carter could reply, gave the car's roof a few raps and started to walk down the street. Joss watched him for a few seconds. He was favoring his left leg, turning his usual smooth gait slightly uneven. She blew out a breath, then turned the key in her ignition. Truth be told she didn't know who was crazier: John, for repeatedly and voluntarily putting himself in harm's way or her, for actually going along with his crazy methods.

Deciding that further inspection of that question would only lead to unwanted answers, Carter put her car in drive and let the task of finding the quickest way home to her bed through the city's usual mad traffic be her biggest problem for the moment.

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To be continued...