This story is a mind game of what could have happened after Johns death to the world. I hope you enjoy. :)

John glanced down at the dimly lit side street of the apartment where he had been living under a false identity for several months already. In contrast to his former loft, the small place had little in common with the luxury that Finch's former gift brought with it. He didn't mind. In any case he spent most of his time in the new headquarters or on the streets of New York. With the new beginning he had exchanged his suit for simple black jeans to equally inconspicuous dark shirts. To avoid the cameras and old acquaintances, he additionally decided for a gray base cap pulled low over his face most of the time. It wasn't his preferred clothing style, but necessary if he wanted to continue flying under the radar. In fact there was a reason that crime witnesses found it much more difficult to describe the perpetrator when the person of interest looked as inconspicuous as possible as he knew not only from his collaboration with Carter. It was a psychological effect that also he now took advantage of. Taking a sip of the scotch he occasionally enjoyed after a long day, his gaze shifted to the clock that read 12:47 a.m. As so often in recent months, insomnia had once again gained the upper hand, despite physical fatigue.

His thoughts slipped back to the person for whose safety he was willing to leave his old life behind once again. In the end, it was because of his former friend that he even had the chance to do so. Uninterested of whether he would face another day after Jessica's death, it was Harold's strange job offer that filled his life with a new meaning. Eventually the eccentric billionaire had saved him from himself. Giving him the chance to lead a normal life by dying in exchange for him after the destruction of Samaritan was the least, he could do. While Mr. Reese, as Finch used to call him for etiquette until they parted ways, had indeed died to the world, a twist of fate would have allowed him to continue working under a new cover identity.

„I gave you a Job, Mr. Reese. I never said it would be easy", Harolds words echoed in his head.

While this turned out to be true more than once over the years, he wasn´t able to see the possible consequences coming at the time. Even today, five months after starting his new life, he still felt guilty about keeping Finch in the dark about his true whereabouts, as he had to admit. It had never been his intention to cause pain to the man he put his trust in like barely in anyone else. Nonetheless, it was a necessary evil when it came to ensuring his friend's safety.

Taking another sip of the scotch, he thought back to the moment when fate had steered him in a new direction. Entering the loft after an elaborate rescue operation regarding another number, he had instinctively reached for his pistol when he found an unknown woman sitting at his kitchen table.

"Don't worry, if I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead long ago", he remembered Siennas words who looked at him with an almost amused expression. In confirmation of her statement, she stood up and turned slowly around her own axis under the barrel, which he still aimed at her right shoulder.

John haven´t had a clue about the intention of his unforeseen guest. Even though she seemed inconspicuous at first glance, she had managed to track him down at his accommodation and gained access to his apartment. Fully aware about the dangerousness of a situation like that, he decided to take the next move in this game, nonetheless. Lying his gun ready to hand on the table, he sat down opposite her. After a while of banter, which he knew was nothing more than a way of assessing each other, he finally asked the question that the situation was bound to lead to.

"If you wanted to treat me for a coffee, you could have had it easier. So, what gives me the honor that you made the extra effort to come here?", he asked in his typical manner.

For a moment a strange silence filled the room, when Sienna changed her position in a more comfortable one.

„Samaritan is hot at your heels. Probably a lot closer than you currently realize. Maybe you ask yourself how I know. The simple answer is because I´m a part of them."

Leaving the information hanging in the air for a moment, she finally continued: "An attack, which neither your friend nor you will survive without help, is planned against you soon. The reason I´m here is, because I´d like to offer you a way out before it's too late."

Taking in her words, which sounded no more than a trap, she handed him over material she obviously had gathered over the past few months.

After a first hesitation he grabbed the papers for introspection eventually.

"Let me know how you decide but if you want some advice, you should take the decision soon."

After she left, he had returned his attention to the documents, which, to his dismay, contained not only complete operational reports on Samaritan's encounters with Shaw, and himself, but rather the strategic planning of their next steps as well as full profiles of all team members.

John swallowed. In contrast to most situations in which it wasn´t difficult for him to evaluate situations rationally, this context was a completely different starting point. With Finch's life in danger due to something beyond his control, he decided to dial Sienna number the next morning.

"I don't know what exactly you're asking for in exchange for your offer, but if it still stands, I might be in - on one condition."

The showdown happened only three days later. With an idea he could only hope it would work, he had faked his death with the help of Sienna's initiated circle, as well as several bags of pig's blood strapped to his bulletproof vest. His farewell to Finch, on the other hand, was intended to be a final one indeed.

John was unable to tell how much luck or calculation he actually had that everything went according to plan. Since then, he worked with Sienna and a young hacker who simply called herself Scout.

"I have fulfilled your condition. Your friend is safe but unlike Finch, I'm not offering you a job, John", Sienna had let him know right from the start. "What I need is an equal partner who I can rely on 100% at all times, just as he can rely on me."

Contrary to his otherwise reserved attitude when it came to trusting other people, he quickly understood its essential necessity in the fight against a new threat.

"Samaritan was just the beginning", Sienna concluded, handing him more documents about something that could be many times more dangerous for the entire virtual as well as ultimately for the real world. John couldn't tell whether they stood an actual chance or if it was a lost game right from the start. Nevertheless, it wasn´t just the soldier in him who wouldn´t surrender defenselessly in this fight. While he had lost sight of purpose regarding to his life and actions in the past; something that he admittedly still struggled with at times, the years with Finch had sparked something that made him want to try at least. Maybe, he mused, that was what it all came down to in the end. Perhaps it was nothing more than the intention itself that determined the meaningfulness of life.

Taking the last sip of his scotch, John glanced at his cell phone, which read 1:22 am. Like every night before going to bed, he activated the tracking app whose transmitter he had installed in Finch's wristwatch shortly before his final goodbye. Calmingly, also tonight his friend was safely located in the apartment he shared with Grace.

"Good night, Harold", he concluded into the silence of the small bedroom before turning out the light to get some sleep for another challenging day.