A/N This is the final chapter of The Recruit, and it was bittersweet to write. I really enjoyed this story, and it was a good challenge for me to explore this part about John's past and how it would be if he and Carter had met in that part of his life. I left Mark Snow's reasons about the delivery of the canister somewhat ambiguous, but there are hints about why the Agency wanted it in the first conversation of this chapter.

Thanks for all the feedback to this fic, it's been truly overwhelming and I really appreciate it. Now on to the chapter! Hope you enjoy it. (Lawd this author's note was long, LOL)

**Disclaimer ~ I don't own person of interest or its characters.

Special Counsel sat at his desk, his hands just under his nose in steeple formation, and glanced back and forth between Alicia Corwin and Denton Weeks who sat before him. His eyes moved downward, scanning the documents in the opened folder on his desk and he shook his head. He reached for the cup of coffee to his right; the tremor in his hand stunted his grip on the mug momentarily. The aftermath of being shot in the hand years ago, it was an annoyance most days. Today it seemed to reflect the irritation he felt after hearing the news of their most recent case.

"Tell me, Alicia, Denton…tell me just how I'm supposed to view this mission as anything but a failure?"

"A failure?" Alicia asked, with a raised eyebrow. "The canister was recovered as we wanted, and it's been delivered to who we wanted."

"You're right, Alicia. But what we didn't want was the gigantic mess those two operatives left behind. A financier murdered, not discreetly, I might add, and an international incident involving two countries with ours possibly implicated."

"Not to mention one of your operatives going off on her own personal vendetta." Denton Weeks finally offered his two cents to the conversation, and Alicia shot him what was just short of an amused smile.

"There's no way to tie us to what happened, not in the least. The both of them got out clean. We didn't expect Klaus to make it, so to express regret over his demise however it took place is unnecessary. And you know it, Penn."

"No, we didn't want Klaus to make it. They both did us a favour. However, Mark Snow allowed himself to be caught on tape meeting with Wagner when he delivered the briefcase. When that canister is activated in the Sudan, the death of those people at the UN site could possibly be linked to us if this footage ever got out."

"I'm positive we can ensure that it doesn't," she countered.

"He's a loose end," Weeks said. "And so is Newman."

Penn nodded in agreement. "What about Reese and Carter?"

"What about them?" Alicia asked.

"We need to decide how to handle them."

"Reese has been with the Agency for a while. He's proven to be very resourceful. Doesn't ask questions, follows orders. I don't think he's outlived his usefulness just yet," Alicia answered.

"Isn't he injured?"

"He is, but he's expected to make a full recovery despite the severity of his wounds."

"And what about Joss Carter?"

Weeks' question filled the short awkward silence that followed Alicia's report on Reese. Penn thought it ironic that they were sitting here making decisions on the lives of millions of people. They were on opposite sides of a chessboard, moving people around like pawns, knights, and kings. Except there were no real winners in this game, at least he never completely felt triumphant, even when their missions were a success.

Penn rose to his feet, an indication of dismissal. He was ready for this meeting to be over. "She gets to live…for now. But reassign her. There's work to do in London." He walked around his desk as both Alicia and Denton stood up.

"Dillinger?" Alicia asked as they walked to the door.

Penn nodded and Alicia smiled. "They'll make a good team."

Reese thought that he would die. He stood behind Carter at the safe house, watched her kill Belka, and he couldn't will the pain away any longer. He felt the stitches tear, felt the blood start to drain onto his hand and sank to the floor. He'd heard Joss call his name, heard her scream for Shaw, but what happened after was a blur. When his eyes finally reopened, he was in a hospital room, most likely a private owned facility that the Agency used. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious for, but his wound had been taken care of. The agonizing pain he'd felt had disappeared and he felt rested for the first time in a few weeks.

Where was Joss?

The question filled his mind as soon as he got his bearings. Was she alright, and why wasn't she here where he could be near her? Another day and night passed and she was still nowhere to be found. A doctor and nursed cared for him, helped him move around, work through the stiffness in his muscles, but still there was no sign of her.

He sat up in bed feeling restless on his third day awake when Alicia Corwin entered his room. She looked polished in a gray skirt and jacket. She was all business, but the purple and deep pink silk blouse that peeped out from underneath the jacket spoke of femininity. As did her high heels. His eyes swept over her as she walked from the door over to his bed and sat just at the edge of it.

"Alicia," he said in greeting.

"John."

He tilted his head at her use of his first name. In the few times she'd accompanied Mark Snow when he was given directives, she'd only ever addressed him as 'Reese'. He knew something was amiss. He wondered, suddenly, if he'd reached the end of his rope. Truthfully he'd expected that it would happen eventually. You screwed up a job, didn't follow through on your orders, and you were done. Simply being at the wrong place at the wrong time was grounds for 'retirement'. He felt like he'd been a walking dead man for years, so the possibility of death even at the hand of his employers hadn't bothered him much. Now that he'd met Joss, that had all changed. He wanted…no needed to live, for as long as he could, just so that he could be with her.

But here Alicia was, and he wondered at her reason for coming to see him personally. The assignment with Klaus and the subsequent kidnapping and killing of a Polish Senator couldn't have gone over well with their superiors. They weren't happy. That much he knew.

He didn't speak first; he would give her that courtesy, so he waited till she was ready.

"You did a good job in Montenegro," she said, and he wondered at the lie. It was unnecessary, but he knew it was a precursor for something else. "But we want you to focus on getting better for the time being. You can take some much earned leave, recuperate, and return to work in another month. That should be sufficient time."

"More than enough," he replied.

"We'll be sending you to Germany afterwards, Frankfurt. You'll get the details later, once you're better."

"And what about Carter?" He couldn't help but ask, and fought to keep his voice from cracking as he mentioned her name. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he had to ask. He had to know.

"I know that Mark chose her personally, handpicked her to work with you, but after Montenegro, we feel it'd be best that you two not work together anymore. She's being reassigned to Dillinger, he'll be her new handler, and she's going to London, effective immediately."

Reese swallowed hard, fisting his hands into the bed sheets, an action undetected by Corwin and he was glad. The last thing he needed was for Alicia to guess at an emotional connection between him and Carter.

"Does she know?"

"Not yet," she said, and took a thumb drive from her pocket, handing it to him. "We thought you could give her the news."

"Of course," he answered, holding it in his palm.

She got up from the bed and left without another word. He was being sent off to recover, but there was a subtle undertone to her words that was a warning not to let a screw up like Montenegro happen again. They'd retrieved the canister, but the chaos that had followed wasn't one that the Agency looked favourably upon. He guessed he should be thankful, feel lucky that he'd walk away from this mission with his life. So would Joss, but now they were being separated, and he'd never see her again.

Where was she?

"We've decided to overlook you neglecting the assignment you were given in favour of the personal project you got involved in last week."

Shaw sat with her hands in her lap coolly regarding Special Counsel as he dryly started to speak. Admittedly she had been nervous when she was called to this meeting. She wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about her capturing Mark Snow on tape or assisting Joss Carter when she took Dawid Belka. She was sure however, that the former outweighed his disapproval about the latter. It was also probably why she wasn't lying face down in a ditch somewhere with a bullet to the back of the head. For that, she was grateful, helping Carter out had done nothing but whet her appetite for wet work. She was keen to get out and do more.

"There are a few items we want you to handle. I've lobbied hard for you personally, and so has Hersh. He speaks highly of you, says you're a good operative. He says that having you carry out surveillance was a waste of your talents."

"I can't say I disagree with him," she said with a shrug.

He slid a folder across his desk, and she opened it, looking at the two 8"x10" photos inside. She was momentarily taken aback, but slowly she began to smile and looked up at him.

"I take it you're familiar with Mark Snow."

"I am, yes."

"Good, the other person is Nicholas Newman. He's also your objective."

"Where can I find them?" she asked, eager to get started.

"All the information's in there. You have one week."

Carter walked through the front doors of Manheim Investments and headed straight for the elevator. She nervously pulled on the zipper of her jacket, idly playing with it while the lift climbed floors. She was headed for floor number twenty seven, a floor that according to the numbers on the panel didn't exist. When she got to twenty six, she entered a code that took her up to the last level, and she exited the doors when they opened. This floor was a small medical facility, unknown to the general public, and was used solely by the CIA.

John had been here for the last five days, and she'd held a silent vigil for the first two of them. She'd thought that she might lose him. She'd thought that he would die, and she hadn't slept at all for those first two days. She was afraid that something would happen to him while she slumbered, and she didn't want to chance that. His stitches had reopened, and thankfully because of Shaw being there, she'd been able to tend to him. They'd gotten him here where he'd gotten a life saving blood transfusion, his bandages had been redone and he'd been heavily sedated. For several days he'd been unconscious, getting the rest he needed, rest she knew he'd never have taken if he was awake and worrying about her.

He'd worried more than Carter had expected. He'd risked his life to come and look for her, to save her from herself. To save her from going down that dark path where he feared she'd never come back from. She remembered their conversation about Kara, his fear of becoming like her, and he knew that it was a very big part of why he'd sought her out. He hadn't wanted her to become like his old partner. He hadn't wanted her to lose her soul like he believed he'd lost his.

When she sat by his bed, she held his hand, she waited, and she thought about all he'd come to mean to her, what she'd come to mean to him. He couldn't let her go, and the fierceness in his eyes as he told her that she should let her anger die with Belka, rocked her to her core. She saw something there in his eyes, past the pain, past the worry, and it was stronger than anything she'd seen or felt in her lifetime. What scared her was that she felt it too.

That realization was the first and only thing that made her leave his bedside for the first time since he'd been brought here. Even in a new motel room, she couldn't run from it, couldn't hide. It was there, and it was real, and though neither of them had planned it, it wasn't going anywhere. The only thing they could do was accept it, and try not to let it overshadow their work as it had already.

Now she was back, heading toward his room, and she wondered what she would say to him. They had a whole lot to discuss. It had only been a few days since she'd seen him, but it felt like an eternity.

Reese's eyes moved from the television in the room, and he muted the sound when his room door opened. Finally she was here, standing before him. His shoulders slumped, a sign that he was physically relieved to see her. Her hair was neatly pinned into a bun at the back of her head, though the errant curl she frequently had to tuck behind her ear was loose. She wore a gray t-shirt, dark jeans and a zipper jacket. He took in every curve of her body, every feature on her face, knowing this might possibly be the last time they'd ever be face to face again.

She looked hesitant, and remained at the door. He wanted her to come over, and he adjusted the bed, putting it up so he could sit.

"Hey," he said, softly.

"Hey," she answered, and finally moved toward the bed and sat down. He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Better now that you're here. How long was I out?"

"About five days." She shrugged. "You had us all worried. You had me worried."

Her brown eyes shone with unshed tears, and he squeezed her hand.

He wanted to tell her that she was stuck with him. He wanted to reassure her they'd always be together, but it would be a lie.

"I was worried about you. Thought I would lose you," he said, softly.

"Thank you, John."

"For what?"

"For saving my life, for saving me."

"I had to return the favour."

"You did, in spades." She laughed quietly, and he couldn't help but smile, though it was bittersweet. "Amelia's body was found. It's being shipped back to Poland. She and Dawid are going to have state funerals, not that that bastard deserves it."

He noticed that the bitterness and anger she'd exhibited during the last few days was gone. In its place was a softness that he'd missed. It was there when they'd initially met, and he was glad to see it and feel it again.

"I imagine Snow will want to see us soon. Curious that I haven't heard from him since the night I brought Shaw to the motel."

"And you won't," he said.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked, and the knot between her brows appeared. He'd miss it, he thought. He'd miss the dimple that appeared when she laughed, he'd miss the way she'd tilt her head when she thought he was doing or saying something asinine. He'd miss the curve of her mouth when smiled at him.

He reached for the thumb drive on the nightstand next to him and handed it to her. "This happened."

She took it from him, confused and alarmed. "What's going on, John?"

"They're separating us, Joss. I'm going on leave while you go to London."

"What?" She started to pull her hand away, but he held onto it, pulling her closer. "Why? Is it because of Dawid and Amelia? It is, isn't it?"

"That's part of the reason, but…it doesn't matter."

"So we won't see each other again?"

She hadn't lost him to death, but somehow for Carter, this felt much worse. He got up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Come here," he said quietly and pulled her into his arms.

She threw her arms around his shoulders as he pulled her closer into his embrace. She felt her breath catch in her throat, she felt overwhelming helplessness come over her, and she couldn't stop the tears that started to fall.

She hated herself for needing him like she did. She hated the immediate sense of loss she felt at the news of her reassignment. She hated that they had no control over it and that there was nothing they could do. He cupped her face in his hands, pressing his cheek to hers and she wanted to stay in his arms forever.

"Joss, I…I…"

She wouldn't let him say it; instead she pressed her lips to his and silenced him. If he said what they were both feeling, she didn't think she could go on.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered against his mouth. "I don't want to lose you."

She ran her hands over his head, across his shoulders and back, wanting to touch him, wanting to be with him, just one more time, but she knew they couldn't.

He caressed her face, ran his thumb across her mouth, and in that moment she knew he was her anchor. He was the light that had brought her back from darkness. He was the one who'd pulled her back when she'd dangled on the edge.

"You made me a better man, Joss. You changed me so much." His voice cracked as he spoke, both of them forgetting where they were, both of them not caring who they were supposed to be anymore.

She kissed his cheeks, tasting his tears as they rolled down his face.

"You changed me, Joss," he said, as his hands moved under her jacket. "You changed me."

"You changed me," she said, and rested her head on his shoulder. "What am I going to do without you, John? I…I…"

"I know, Joss, I know."

They wept together, and she stood in his arms for a while, neither of them wanting to let go. She stayed with him into the evening, and crawled into bed with him after it got dark. She rested her hand over his heart, feeling it beat steadily, knowing that that was where he held her, knowing that she'd always be there. During the night they fell asleep, but Carter woke up early, and washed her face in the bathroom. When she got back, he was sitting upright in bed, his grim expression mirroring exactly how she felt.

"Morning."

"Morning," she answered, and sat next to him.

"Come here," he said, and pulled her toward him so she could lie on his chest.

"I don't want to hurt you. Your stitches, remember?" He pulled her closer anyway, and the feel of his fingers through her hair felt so good, she dreaded having to eventually move.

"I'll be hurt more if I can't hold you right now," he said, and she relaxed in his embrace.

"When do you go on leave?" she asked.

"As soon as they clear me from this place."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Don't know, really. It's been a while since I've been home."

"You're going back to Washington?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

"Maybe. If I do go, I won't stay there long."

"Going to see Jessica?" she asked, holding her breath. The hand in the back of her neck was still. With her out of his life, he was free to go back to his old love. It was a stupid thought she realized, but irrationally she couldn't help thinking it.

"Jessica's married, and it was over between us long before that."

"I know," she said, as tears came to her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"I did love her, a long time ago. I don't anymore."

He bent his head and she raised her lips to his.

"You have to go now, Joss. You have to go," he murmured after their lips parted.

He was right, they were only delaying the inevitable, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him. She wiped at her tear stained cheeks and kissed him one more time before she finally got up.

She straightened her clothes, and reluctantly walked to the door. "Goodbye, John," she said, looking at him one last time.

"Goodbye, Joss."

Two Days Later

Carter sat on a plane bound for Heathrow Airport. Her new identity, cover, and persona were all in place. She'd met Ethan Dillinger, her new handler, two days ago. He had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and he was very tall. She listened to his instructions, her mission guidelines and the information about the target. This was her second time out the gate, and in another few hours she'd see who her new partner would be.

It felt surreal going into this one alone. She'd known John Reese for less than five months, but in that short time they'd worked together, he'd become a bigger part of her life than she'd ever hoped or imagined.

In the space of those five months, she also realized that the agency was fickle. They could turn on their own faster than you could blink. From the little that Dillinger told her after she questioned him about Mark Snow, she guessed that he would be given an early retirement. If you asked her, it couldn't have happened to a nicer person. The corners of her mouth lifted, wondering just who the lucky person would be.

She also smiled, thinking that if the Agency could so easily change their mind about Snow - an experienced and competent agent - perhaps sometime in the future, they could also change their mind about her and Reese. Maybe the last time she saw him, wouldn't be the last time after all. It wasn't much to put hope in, in fact the chances were less than slim, but as the time passed, and she got closer to her destination, it was a sliver of hope she chose to hold on to.