(For lionsassy, who likes Bear to be involved…)
Shifting the bags to one hand, he closes the door behind him as he lets himself into the cramped little efficiency. Turning the multiple locks and securing the safety chain takes a few minutes, but he's become quite proficient at that over the last several months. Not that there's anything of value in the apartment, other than that old TV, but a home invasion is not something he's willing to risk. At the very least he would become a police statistic and highlight his existence.
It's a pocket-sized space, so small that he and the dog moving around in it is akin to a pair of goldfish swimming in a brandy glass. Not that he cares; he'd long ago learned not to become attached to any particular living quarters, not since going off the grid those many years ago, becoming untraceable. The closest he'd ever really come to having a home – as an adult, that is - was during those special years he spent with Grace. Before…
No! Don't go there.
"Yes…yes. I'm back…" he tells the excited dog. "And for heaven's sake! I haven't been gone that long. I would have taken you with me but you know I'd never get any shopping done. Everyone wants to 'pet the dog'…!
That was one reason. The other being that he preferred not to draw attention and Bear in a grocery store was definitely an attention grabber! Besides, he preferred the dog stay and guard the apartment. It's such a tired little place…
Finch glances around the room as the animal shoves against his good leg, impeding his path to the mini-kitchen.
Funny…though he cares little for his own lodgings, he'd taken great pleasure in researching, finding, and purchasing that spacious loft for John - perhaps because he'd sensed how rootless the ex-op was, the lack of anchor. So even while he himself moved regularly from safe house to safe house, he'd had the satisfaction of knowing that his employee at least had a secure place to call "home".
Well, that's over now. The loft is no longer safe. None of their former locations are safe.
The city is an expensive place to live, with living space priced at a premium so wherever John ended up, it probably wasn't much better than these sad accommodations…a shoebox masquerading as an apartment. But he's resigned to residing in this cramped space, and supposes it matters little to his canine guardian as long as the animal is afforded enough daily exercise.
In that regard he's been fortunate. The young intern at the library had taken a real shine to Bear from the start and almost every day takes animal to exercise in the park. Which allows him to return guilt free to these confined quarters at the end of the day, knowing that the dog is having its need for physical activity met.
Though today Bear had acted strangely…
Apparently adverse to taking their normal route back to the apartment, the dog had pulled in the opposite direction to the point of almost causing him to fall. With an uncharacteristic harsh command – for him at least – he'd brought the animal to heel, but Bear had been visibly unhappy about not being allowed to take the lead.
Had the animal sensed some kind of danger in the direction of their lodgings? While their apartment is not in a particularly good neighborhood, he'd not yet run into any kind of trouble on their way home. But he knows Bear has been tasked with protecting him.
A familiar voice tiptoes into his consciousness.
Bear is friendly, you'll like him… if anyone ever messes with you, he'll eat them.
Finch groans. At least this time the scene plays only the audio, with no accompanying video portion. For that at least, he's thankful.
Placing the grocery bags on the miniscule counter, he rubs Bear's head as the animal offers a doggie smile in return. He knows the canine sat at the door the entire time he was gone, waiting, waiting. Just as he knows that once Bear has finished greeting him, the dog will return to that same spot by the entry and resume his sentry duty - as he's done for so many weeks…months.
He very aware what's at the root of this behavior, and it not only saddens him but sometimes angers. Anger steeped in shame he knows, because the dog has not given up…and he has.
Root engineered the break-up of their group, an action he understands…just as he understands the need for anonymity, the necessity in keeping Samaritan from scrutinizing their identities too closely.
"When the whole world is watched, filed, indexed, numbered, the only way to disappear is to appear, hiding our true identities inside a seemingly ordinary life.
And that means staying away from each other.
It's difficult. Surprisingly so, evidence that he's become far more dependent on these people than he ever thought possible. To the point that leaving them has been the most difficult endeavor he's ever undertaken. With the exception of walking away from Grace...
But it almost feels like that…
Reaching down now with both hands and rubbing the animal's ears, he hopes to offer some comfort and perhaps in the process, alleviate his own despair.
"Yesss….! Such a good boy! Braaf hond….yes…."
As he pets the squirming animal he makes an effort to infuse his voice with a positive vibe, hoping that in doing so he'll hold his own inevitable end-of-day depression at bay. After all, the animal is sensitive to emotions in the atmosphere and their current circumstance is not the dog's fault.
I read that if there's anxiety in the home, it can make your pets become upset…
So he smiles, deliberately projecting "happy"…but there's a lie in the every muscle it takes to form the expression. He knows it. He only hopes the dog does not.
Finally rising he begins to unpack the bags, cramming most of the items into the mini-fridge, as the resident roaches consider anything outside of canned goods as an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. Early on he had attempted to control the hoard with various pesticides, but eventually decided the limited space made spraying those chemicals a hazard to his and Bear's health. So based on the theory that the pests are opportunistic scavengers, his current plan is now to starve them into leaving for easier pickings.
And besides, chasing the bugs gives Bear something to do in the long evening hours…
As for his own entertainment...there is none. He's simply glad to get back to his lodgings and relax. Physically at least.
The result of sitting too long in one position all day has his leg screaming. with his back beginning to ache in sympathy. The work he does is not just impacting him physically, it's also mind-numbing, giving him plenty of idle gray matter to play with. And those brain cells unfortunately - and continuously - get busy with recollections of days past. Of his years with Nathan, living with Grace, working the Numbers…
And then there are those memories of the rest of the current core team: Root, with her infuriating ability to communicate with the Machine; Shaw, with her infuriating inability to feel emotions. And John…
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
So happy to see you again Glasses Man!
You were gone a long time. And now you are back! Back where I can protect you.
You need to take me with you next time.
Now we must go out again!
Quickly!
Here is the leash…
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Bear has brought him the leash, something the dog normally doesn't do unless there is a real urgency to go out. Finch worries. Is the canine sick? Does the animal need to relieve himself again?
He observes closely but sees no sign of the tension or anxious behaviors that would normally signal a physical problem. Just the spirited attitude of a dog anticipating an outing. Maybe Bear is simply wound up; perhaps the young lady didn't run him quite as much today…?
He sighs. The comfortable old chair, a cup of tea, and losing himself in one of the classics will all have to wait…
"All right…all right! We'll go out. I need to make a quick stop and then we'll go…" he tells the joyous dog. Being well versed in the actions attached to the sound of "out", Bear is now excitedly dancing in place.
He limps to the closet sized area that serves as the bathroom and closes the door on the dog. The room is barely big enough for one human much less one human and a large animal. But Bear, usually so confident and self-contained has over the months become much more dependent, sticking to his human companion like Velcro. The dog will join him in the small space if given the chance.
Bear snuffles at the threshold, and then there is the sound of a large "thump" as the animal lies down and plasters his body against door and floor.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Glasses Man is in the small room and locking him out. Again.
It's a routine he doesn't quite understand, something human no doubt, but he would feel more secure if he were allowed inside. After all, it's his job to protect the small man.
So he will lie here then, against the door and keep the human safe for the Alpha.
He huffs his frustration.
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"Don't rush me." Finch says, knowing his voice carries easily through the thin door panels. He carefully washes his hands, avoiding as much as possible the scratched mirror and the person revealed therein. As though by ignoring the image, he can ignore the present.
But this is his life now: an info-bot to the uninformed during the day, and holding one-sided conversations with the dog in the evening. And he doesn't know how to get out of this existence, even though determined and desperate to do so. He dries his hands on the skimpy towel, then rattles the door knob, a signal for Bear to move.
"Well, let's go. Is the park all right with you?" he asks conversationally, because, well…there's no one else to talk to.
He clips the leash on the dog's collar, unlocks the dead bolts and unlatches the chain from the entry door. And how many times has he repeated those actions? If only there was some change, some relief on the horizon. Something besides waking up, going to work, coming home, sleeping…only to repeat the routine the next day.
But life is like a game of cards, he knows: the hand one is dealt represents determinism, the way one plays is free will. But all he's been doing for months now is shuffling the deck, and like Bear, waiting, waiting…
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Finally! We're going outside!
He's especially anxious for this outing now - not for the exercise, given that his human doesn't walk near fast enough for a dog to pace - but because there is somewhere he needs to go! The Girl had fulfilled any need he'd had for physical activity today by taking him to the park this afternoon; a desire for more exercise is not the reason he's so eager now to go outside!
No, it's because on the way back from this afternoon's play time, a familiar odor had drifted in the air toward him. A very, very faint concentration - but he'd recognized it immediately. His Leader's scent! And he had followed it around the corner, across the street, towing The Girl as fast as she could run, until finally he pulled free of the leash constraint.
He'd ran, his nose lifting and lowering to follow that elusive scent. And then suddenly…there was the Tall Man, jumping out of a doorway, right into his path!
That well-known face, that whispery voice… He'd been so overjoyed he'd completely skipped the required greeting protocols. He just couldn't get close enough, yelping like a young pup, feeling those wonderful hands on his fur again! And all the while, Alpha was saying he was a Good Boy!
Ecstasy…!
But it was confusing to be sent away again. And Alpha didn't come back with him to the book house. Instead, Tall Man had talked to The Girl and then knelt to give the command. Not one expected nor wanted, but this was his Leader, and when Leader gives a command it must be obeyed.
So he had left with The Girl, back to the book house to continue to protect Glasses Man as ordered.
But now…Well, if the Alpha won't come to the book house, then he will bring Glasses Man to the Alpha!
So come along, human!
We must hurry, hurry…
...
End