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On The Edge

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He was to late the "White Haired" man had beaten Reece to him.

On the edge of the abandon warehouse bridge, where under it flowed a rushing river, He stood commanding two of his men who held a very frightened Harold. Their dual grips clenching his upper arms.

Reese stood his ground, his gun gripped with both hands, held up pointed directly at White Hair's head.
John was hiding the fact that he was actually out of breath, having ran all the way from the other side of the complex; hoping he would get to Finch before He and his goons arrived.

Of course he was to late. The sun was starting to set, the looming shadow of an abandon water tower reached over them making it harder to see.

The White Haired man motioned his men to step away from Finch, releasing him while White Hair's own gun was still aimed at Reese. He had plenty of backup in case Reese tried something. Two men there with Harold and no doubt several snipers up in the buildings to the side of them. He covered all the angles, White Hair never worked cheap.

Finch, now free of the men's grip stood unmoving, his eyes wide.
John kept a stern, furious gaze on the White Haired man, but took a quick glance at Finch who stared back at him terrified, his hands stiff down at his sides. Even from this distance Reese could see them trembling.

"Now be a good boy and put down your weapon so we can discuss the 'codes' like civilized adults. Either that or your boss here is dead." He solidified his order by pointing his gun directly at Herald's chest.

Finch's voice was laced with a faint wimper, "Don't do it Mister Reese forget abou-"

The White Haired man cut him off by grabbing Finch by the caller with his free hand and lunged Harold closer to the edge of the bridge.

Reese stood firm, his gun still pointing at the man. Inside however he was filling with rage.
His voice however remaind stoic and smooth, "Don't worry Harold I got him."

The man chuckled slightly. His grip still firm on Harold's shirt just at the base of his neck. "I wouldn't be so sure. I can give the order and my men will kill you without a second thought. Now, give me the information or he goes for a swim!" He lunged Harold again while pushing the end of the gun harder into his chest. Finch's eyes squeezed shut in fear.

Reese knew that the more time went by the more he put Finch in danger, but his backup plan should arrive just on time if he stalled long enough.

"Sorry. But I'm not at liberty to disclose any such information. Especially not to the likes of you." Reese's tone was sharp yet taunting.

The White Haired man sighed irritated, "Very well." He prepared his gun, as he did so his men tightened their own on Reese.
Harold shot him a look that read, 'save me'.

Just as the White Haired man prepared to shoot sirens blared through the bridge as several NYPD police cars rushed in, stopping just inches from them.

The unexpected arrival of the police startled White Hair causing him to tighten his finger on the trigger releasing a bullet strait into Finch's chest. At that same moment an officer got out of his car and shot White Hair causing him to collaps instantly to the ground.

Reese lowered his gun as the man released his grip on Harold. The impact of the bullet caused Finch to fall backwards over the railing of the bridge.

Reece dropped his gun and ran over to the edge, leaping off without even thinking and dived after Finch. Where they eventually plummeted into the cold water below.

 

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The sun had now set and at the edge of the river, Fusco stood looking for any sign of John or at the very slim chance Mr. Finch. After a few moments he spotted a figure coming out of the darkness.

Reese trudged through the now ankle deep water to Fusco's left. Lionel ran over to meet a now very wet Reese. Over his shoulder he supported Harold, his eyes closed shut.

"Is he . . ." Fusco said mumbling.

John shook his head. "Just unconscious." He said in a whisper. Miraculously Finch was still alive.

Water dripped down their cloths and onto the small rocks below them. Exhausted Reese fell to his knees still gripping Finch who he could feel was trembling cold and wet.

At Finch's shoulder was the wound where thick red blood was pouring out staining his white dress shirt with blooms of crimson.

He seemed so vulnerable, even though Finch has the occasion to act all high and mighty, really when it comes to it he can actually be very afraid. John cursed himself for not being there to save him when he had the chance.

Further up the bank a car pulled up and Agent Carter came running down the hill with a concerned look on her face. "John!"
She yelled as she slowed nearing them.

"We need to get an ambulance. He needs medical attention." Fusco snapped towards Carter as Reese applied pressure to Finch's wound.

"It's already done. They should be arriving now." She looked sadly at Finch's limp, bloody body resting in Reese's arms. "I'm only sorry that we didn't arrive sooner."

 

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He was sure this was it. That after all the years of close calls that he had finally died. But it was not all for naut. The NYPD had arrived meaning Carter must have been there too, meaning that Reese was still alive and that was all that mattered.

But.

Something was wrong. He felt very much alive. In fact he felt something, something tingling at his hand. A feeling, a grip strong and familiar. Something safe.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His eyes opened slowly as he took in his new surroundings. He was lying on what must be a hospital bed, a blanket was tucked under his arms as for an IV that lead to his left arm. His left shoulder hurt when he moved and it was wrapped with medical gauze and tape.

It took him a moment to register that he wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry I got you shot."

Finch's eyes widened as he did his best to glance to the right.
To the right of him was Reese resting in a chair by the bed his hand gripping onto Finch's for dear life.
Harold glanced at the hand then back up to John's face.

"You don't have to apologize I survived."

Reese for a split second looked hurt thinking back to how scared Finch had been in the hands of that man. Harold saw Reese's look, but seemed to ignore it.

"Of coarse I do Finch. I got you shot."

Harold paused thinking. "It wasn't you who shot me, Mr. Reese. Besides we got him didn't we?"

"Perhaps, but I should have been there sooner to stop him from hurting you." He frowned.

"We stopped a very dangerous man from getting valuable codes. Codes he no doubt would have caused irreparable damage with. Possibly killing hundreds of innocent people in the process." He pierced his lips, "It was worth it, Mr. Reese."

Reese leaned closer to Finch, moving to the edge of the chair his hand still clutched Finch's. "I think you underestimate the importance of your life, Harold."

Harold sighed. "That or you just overestimate it."

"Can you blame me?" John said mockingly as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed now even closer to him.

Finch looked away with a hint of a blush across his face. Finally he gave in looking back at John, a little smirk crept across his face as he sighed.

John smiled warmly back, leaning forward and kissing Harold on the forehead. They sat hand in hand until exhaustion once again overwhelmed Finch and he fell back to sleep. Knowing that he was alive and safe.

End.