Hi guys! Thank you for reviewing! I'm sorry to say that updates may slow down over the next few months – I've broken my shoulder and damaged (pretty much all) soft tissue in my back so typing is hard and rather painful but I will get there and keep this updated as I can.

Soundtrack: The Things We Owe – Takida

John held Harold's sleeping body. He sighed and relaxed. Harold was right, of course Harold was right, he did feel better – all the anger he felt against the State and especially Elias. Others had always been in control of John and he'd hated it. Harold's dominant control was different: he wanted it. Harold also gave John something, human contact. With Harold above him, leaning over him, John wanted to touch him so badly. He reached out but the restraints dug into his wrists hurting him but that pain was ok, it reminded him that he did feel, both physically and emotionally. He needed it. He remembered the sparky glimmer in Harold's eye as he came. He left so alive, so wanted.

As he held Harold he felt complete. He had never expected to touch let alone hold him. He man was at least ten, maybe even fifteen years older than him. He found his sleeping form adorable. He looked so young in his sleep. The creases around his eyes had gone and his facial muscles were relaxed. Harold twitched in his sleep, John kissed his head and smiled, but part of him new this couldn't last, they'd be found out soon enough. He'd cheated death many times, too many times. He pulled Harold closer, not wanting to think about it.

Harold stirred away, he groaned and opened his eyes. He was disorientated, the bed below him was warm and the room was swimming with colours. He panicked. John held him tightly.

'You're ok, you're safe. You fell asleep.'

Harold pushed himself up off the bed and collected his shirt off the floor. He put it on, bristling with annoyance. John sat on the edge of the bed puzzled.

'We don't sleep in here John.'

'It's been a while since you've been in here, maybe you're out of practice.'

Harold spun around and glared at John. 'This isn't something you practice John, it's born within you.' He paused. 'Out.' John looked at him. 'Get out Reese.' He said raising his voice.

John pushed himself off the bed, gathered his clothes and stormed out, grey clouds brewing behind his eyes. The heavy door hit its framed. Harold let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, he hadn't meant to snap at John. But he was right, he was out of practice. Nathan couldn't cope with this so he hadn't brought him in here again. When he was younger, he came in here a lot. He'd had very strict rules:

No talking

No sleeping

No love

And he'd broken all of them with John in the last few hours. He was angry with himself, not John. He sighed and dressed himself again.

He walked out into the main area of the penthouse. John was nowhere to be seen, Harold checked each of the rooms. John had gone. Harold stood next to the table near the sofas, his mind racing with infinite possibilities. He grabbed the lamp and launched it across the room. He could he have been so stupid? He moved quickly to his study and pulled the chair back from behind the desk. He lowered himself onto his knees. He crouched beneath the desk and unlocked a secret compartment hidden on the underside of the desk. Inside, was John's Larrelle file. Harold sat on the desk chair and opened it, skimming for the information he was looking for. He found it. He limped towards the door and grabbed his coat, he made his way to the elevator.

His car was where John had abandoned it. He climbed in and drove into the State. He composed himself quickly, he had a rough idea where John might be. It was very rare for Harold to drive out of the State; he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been outside the State. He sighed, he was frustrated with himself. He should have kept in practice, he should have been in control more, he shouldn't have shouted at John. Their relationship was still so new and fragile, it needed time, patience and understanding.

Harold slowed down as he reached the outer wall. A State Guard walked out a check point and signalled for Harold to stop. He wound his window down.

'Mr Finch, what is your reason for going into the outlands?'

'I don't need a reason.'

'Everyone needs a reason sir, the outlands are full of danger.'

'So is your future career if you don't let me pass.' Harold turned his head as much as his neck would allow, to look at the guard. The guard hesitated then stepped back inside the checkpoint and opened the gates. Harold drove through slowly. He eyed the guard through his rear-view mirror.

The outlands were vast and grey. The distant horizon was lined with black forests and the ground was cold and wet. Fog hung close to the ground intercepted by the odd tall dark grass or plant. Harold drove slowly, he gripped the wheel tightly. All sort of dangerous animal and human lived out here. This is where people disappeared without a trace. Harold breathed out, his warm breath condensing against the cold air. He turned the heater up slightly. He drove further and further into the mist. John's file had said that this was where he found an outlanders camp. This had been his first major find, Harold knew it had been abandoned in the months after the raid, outlanders never lived in the same place twice. John also knew this, Harold hoped that he was right. He glanced at the file beside him and checked the location. Just a few miles further. A few estranged animal calls made Harold's blood run cold. He turned on the radio to block them out.

'The scars reveal the hidden place deep down in you
Like a shadow from the past and nothing is true
A reflection from a dejected face, it comes to
Memories will last, I am crying for you,
I am crying

I'll, I'll give my own time
I'll give my whole life
I'll give my only light
Just to heal you

I, I'll give my own time
I'll give my whole life
I'll give my only light
The things that we owe…'

Harold sighed. This was a favourite of his; composed by a Swedish rock band called Takida. They were around in the early 21st century. Harold liked their sound. He had hidden buildings full of music, books and films. Being the richest and most powerful man in the State, no one asked any questions. He had contracted some people to build something that still plays music – he saw hundreds when looking through evidence back in the early days of TyRon. He got different people to build different pieces then pieced it together himself. The contacts were untraceable. Harold needed music. He realised from a young age that when you're happy you like the tune and when you're upset you understand the words. Music had always been a solace for Harold.

Harold emerged into a clearing in the dark forests. This was it. He stopped the car and gingerly climbed out, he left the headlights on. Up a head of him, an old church by the looks of things was falling down, probably centuries old. He took a few steps towards it, he stopped when the trees to his right rustled.

'John? John is that you?' he asked, trying to keep his rising fear from his voice.

More rustling happened on the other side. Harold spun around, adrenaline crashing through his veins. The outlands were full of wild, hungry animals – maybe this was their way or tormenting Harold before they killed him.

'John?' he called out again. 'I'm sorry John. Please come back.' He paused. 'I need you.'

A rock fell from the church, making Harold jump. His breathing came fast and heavy through his mouth, his eyes were wide as he stood frozen to the spot, staring up at the church. A silhouetted figure moved against the sky. The figure jumped down off the roof and landed in front of the door, lightened by the car's headlights. The figure covered his face.

'You told me to get out and now you want me to come back.' A dark voice drifted on the mist, laced with danger.

'I was wrong. I'm sorry John. I had rules for that room and I broke all of them with you. I've never done that before.' Harold paused. 'I realise that this is all new and we don't yet know each other's limits.'

'This is one of them.'

Harold ignored the comment. 'John I am so sorry. Please come back. I won't do anything like that again, I promise. We can learn about each other, what they like what they don't like.'

'We aren't supposed to like anything Harold.' John butted in.

'I know, I regret making it. I hate what the world has become. What is living without emotion? Eh? It's existing; we're existing to continue our existence. It's pointless.'

John took a few large strides over to Harold. Harold pushed himself back against the front of his car. He closed his eyes as John brought his hand up to his face. Harold was waiting for the hit that never came. Instead, he felt John's gnarled fingertips brush his cheek.

'I'm sorry. I know how you feel about TyRon.' He said softly. 'I'm sorry, I overreacted, this is all new to me. It's been years since someone's touched me and wanted me. I didn't know how to handle it.'

'Have… have you worked it out?' Harold asked quietly, opening his eyes. He looked up at John, he stood so close. He felt his permeating body heat.

John leaned down and planted a feather light kiss on Harold's lips. 'Yes, I want this but I need time.'

'Yes. Of course, we can work through this together, as long as it takes.'

'And no more lies.'

Harold smiled, 'No more lies.' He paused. 'Come on, let's go back.'

They held each other's gaze before walking around the car. John walked to the driver's side.

'Let me drive. I drove through the gate so I need to be driving on the way back.'

'I didn't come out the gate.'

Harold hesitated and walked around to the driver's door. He lowered himself in and leaned over to the glove box. He took out a fake Larrelle ID and opened John's file. John sat in the passenger seat and watched as Harold cut his old Larrelle pass photo out and slipped it inside the fake ID and handed it to John. John looked at it then took it.

'You have a file on me.'

'Files exist on every Larrelle, past and present. I stole yours years ago.' Harold lowered his voice and gaze. 'I've wanted you for years John. I found out all I could about you in hope that we'd meet one day.' He confessed. 'This will get you through.'

'I am the most wanted person in the city. I can't be seen using my Larrelle pass.'

Harold leaned over and kissed him. 'You're forgetting I'm here, no one says no to me.'

'I'm your slave, I drive.'

Harold sighed and climbed out the car. They switched seats. John turned the key in the ignition and the beefy engine purred into life. The radio continued playing the song again.

'I, I'll give my own time
I'll give my whole life
I'll give my only light
Just to heal you

I, I'll give my own time
I'll give my whole life
I'll give my only light
The things that we owe.'

John listened to the lyrics, deep in thought. Harold cast quick glances at John, he knew it was new ground.

'What song is this?'

'It's called The Things We Owe by Takida. They were a Swedish band from the 21st century.'

'I like it.'

'It's one of my favourites.'

'You have more?'

'I have loads of music, books and films. I kept them safe for future generations. I also like to listen them every now and again. My secret.'

'I haven't heard music in such a long time.' John said wistfully.

The State wall appeared in the distance. John tensed, his knuckles whitening against the steering wheel.

'John calm down and don't let any emotion out.' Harold gritted through his teeth.

'Harold. What happens if we get caught?'

'I don't know John. I honestly don't know.'

John calmed down and looked at Harold. John nodded and slowed for the gate. He wound his window down and the same guard from before came out.

'ID.'

'I am transporting Mr Finch back to his residence.'

The guard shone his torch into John's face then across to Harold's.

'Any ID sir?'

'I am transporting Mr Finch back to his residence.'

'I need ID sir.'

Harold leaned towards the window, his cold blue gaze piercing through his glasses. 'I have already spoken to you today. Let us pass.'

The guard stepped back and opened the gate. John drove forward, Harold raised his hand and John stopped the car.

'You have been warned. Do not cross me again, if you do, I will send you to the halls of execution myself.'

The guard nodded and stood back. Harold waved forward and John eased the car open winding the window up as he went. When the window whispered shut John let out a sigh and glanced sideways at Harold briefly.

'You are terrifying sometimes.'

'Keeping up appearances Mr Reese.'

John took the subtle hint and rebuilt his poker face and drove deeper into the State.

'Continue straight here.' Said Harold, completely deadpan.

Well ow, typing really hurts! This only took 5+ hours of slow typing. Nethertheless, I have enjoyed writing this and playing with the power change between them. I also enjoyed the harder side of Harold. Thank you for reading and reviewing