#TELL ME EVERY TERRIBLE THING YOU EVER DID AND LET ME LOVE YOU ANYWAY. ( anurbanlcgend )

[fatherofmachine]

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@anurbanlcgend​​ | DEAD RECKONING.

   Blue eyes fixed upon the computer screen,  his mind racing to find a way around  the encryption,  around the virus to find a way through—–but he already knew that a large piece of his own coded virus lay buried beneath.  Dormant for the time being,  but crafted and planted three years ago to set The Machine free from its binding … so it could save itself.  Harold would still attempt  to stop it,  if possible,  but in the event that he could not … he had a plan.  A plan that he likely wouldn’t share with John,  not yet.  For,  he still didn’t know that it was Harold’s fault  that John had almost gotten killed,  that he’d almost had to kill Miss Stanton … his fault that she’d come after John and almost blew him to pieces had Harold not gotten there in time to disarm the bomb vest.

   A few seconds after Harold finished explaining what he’d found ( that the virus would come online five months from now,  but that was all he’d gotten so far ),  he stiffly rose from his chair and limped his way around the table, reaching to gather two folders stacked atop one another.  His intention had been to retrieve the taped pictures of agent Stanton and Snow from the board,  to put them back within their designated folders since they’d received their new number.  But then—

  ( ❛Finch … ?   Thank you.❜ )

   Explanation,  context … none was necessary for Harold to know exactly what it is John was thanking him for.  Brows lifted as he turned to look up,  facing his friend,  his partner.  He felt the shift in their relationship so acutely  in that moment and with the intensity of John’s gaze,  a sudden wave of emotion  encompassed him almost entirely.  Harold’s gaze lowered briefly,  tongue swiping over thin lips before he offered a reply,  quietly  but with a great deal of softness,  of vulnerability,

    ❝Of the many things I am fully equip to handle,  Mr. Reese …. I’m afraid losing  you is not one of them. ❞

   After a moment, a smile pulled at the corners of John’s mouth,  soft  but with the familiar, nearly invisible touches of sadness at the edges—–the pure happiness of it,  albeit,  out shined it all.  Lashes swept downward as John lowered his gaze,  lips parting as if he’d planned to speak,  but … words seemed to fail him.  Instead, a soft breath escaped him and all  of it left Harold’s chest aching with fondness. 

   Their eyes met once again and John’s left hand lifted  to rest against the back of Harold’s neck  ( a way he knew  was John’s way of preventing his injuries from hurting him further ) whilst he moved in closer.  Ducking his head,  John captured his friends’ mouth with his own,  albeit somewhat hesitantly ;  Harold eased  into the kiss,  fingers lifting to brush against John’s jaw and  he was abruptly overwhelmed with how truly desperately  relieved he was to have John Reese back home,  safe and sound.

[fatherofmachine]

( PERSONALS, DO NOT REBLOG!! )

@anurbanlcgend​

 ❛ That DATABASE you’re coding ?…We’re gonna     need it a little FASTER, okay ?  You GOTTA     keep up. ❜

The words IMMEDIATELY ground at Harold’s nerves as DAVE moved to stand in front of him, demanding his attention DESPITE his inclination to TURN & continue to make his way toward his own cubicle. He was PLAYING the part, pretending to be the EMPLOYEE when in fact…he owned the ENTIRE company & truth be told, he was FAR better with computers & coding than Dave could ever HOPE to be. Harold was one of the main reasons the company even EXISTED. Even though it was only one of his ALIASES, IFT was partially NAMED after him. None of them KNEW this, albeit & that was the way it NEEDED to be ; thus Harold held his tongue, blue eyes focused on the floor below & he leaned forward slightly, almost like a full body nod. His voice drifted between them SOFTLY, almost shyly—–his IRRITATION expertly hidden.

 ❝ …’Kay. ‘See what I can do, Dave. ❞

SLOWLY, Dave inclined his head & glanced downward whilst he pressed his lips together tightly. Harold took it as PERMISSION to turn away & he limped the rest of the way to his cubicle ( with a minuscule shake of his head )—–only to be stopped SHORT at the sound of a familiar voice that sent a pang of FEAR & shock throughout his limps.

 ❛ NOT exactly what I expected, ❜

Harold turned stiffly ( his eyes WIDE with disbelief ) to regard JOHN REESE, whom was seated in a chair a few inches away from his desk. John was holding a PLAQUE within his right hand & he lifted it for emphasis ( although he held it so it faced SIDEWAYS rather than right-side up ), giving it a minuscule back & forth shake. The action REMINDED him of Nathan, strangely enough. Harold could STILL hear his voice ; & we won another award! A PANG of a different sort flared within his chest, one of GRIEF & deep affection, almost as if it were an OLD WOUND reopening. 

 ❛ Software engineer of the month ? s’very impressive, ❜  

A GLANCE was thrown to his left, shoulders & torso turning along with his head & his brows LIFTED … to assure that no one was listening in on their…CONVERSATION.

 ❛ But it DOESN’T quite explain the, uh…private    security … the UNLIMITED funds. ❜  

Harold reached for the back of his chair, fingers CURLING over the top whilst he gave it a slow, backward pull. He provided a COMMENT, his voice soft but no less TENSE.

 ❝ No…no, it WOULDN’T. ❞

He could FEEL John’s eyes on him ( those dark forest-green eyes of his ) as Harold lowered himself into his desk chair, bringing his suitcase into his lap as he went. He WAITED for John to continue, his gaze fixed upon the computer monitor in front of him. 

 ❛ I did some DIGGING in HR. Seems you’ve    worked here for seventeen years. ❜

Harold TURNED, albeit, once he heard the word DIGGING ; he looked as if he were a DEER caught in headlights. Normally EYE CONTACT was not something that bothered him, but there was something about the way that John Reese LOOKED at him. There was almost a PLEA within his eyes, a plea to be allowed CLOSER, a plea for Harold’s attention, perhaps even his PRAISE. Normally, with such a BREECH in privacy, Harold would’ve taken his….employee’s actions as hostile or perhaps even UNKIND, insensitive….but there was CLEARLY no malicious intent behind John’s actions. It was….confusing to have someone so set on finding out WHO he was, just for the sake of CLOSENESS instead of malicious personal gain. Once he’d AVOIDED John’s initial intent on spying on him, providing a curt & seemingly COLD dismissal, Harold ASSUMED that would be it. He ASSUMED he’d be angry & DISTANT in return—–but no. Not John Reese.

 ❛ Only been promoted TWICE, ❜ 

John held up his pointer & middle finger, to ILLUSTRATE the number he’d spoken, before resting his cheek against his own knuckles. Harold GLANCED at him again & the only words that surfaced were within his own mind ; stop looking at me like that. He could’ve SWORN there was admiration within those eyes & it left Harold’s heart FLUTTERING. It had been a LONG time since anyone had shown such interest in him at all & he….didn’t know how to handle it ; thus Harold again shifted his focus to his computer monitor.

After a moment of SILENCE, he heard the sifting of fabric as John leaned in CLOSER to him, his hand moving to rest upon the arm of his chair. The movement caused his PULSE to quicken ( Harold couldn’t pinpoint whether it had been because of fear or … SOMETHING ELSE ), for no REAL reason other than the thought of closer PROXIMITY. John Reese looked at him DIFFERENTLY than Nathan ever did, despite the SIMILARITIES & … truly, he wasn’t sure what he thought of it yet.

 ❛ So, how many of these people know you OWN    the entire company ? ❜

Harold leaned back in his chair then, provided another BRIEF glance ( John’s smile was almost GLEEFUL & he hated to allow himself to think it was rather…..charming, but… ) before he spoke again. His voice held a TINGE of a warning weaved throughout.

 ❝ NONE of them. The best place to hide,     Mr. Reese, as you WELL know….is in     PLAIN sight. ❞

John was SMILING now, MISCHIEF clear within his gaze.

 ❛ & if I speak….too LOUDLY, say    the wrong thing ? ❜

Harold’s brows lifted, eyes STILL wide in an attempt to illustrate how SERIOUS this was. How seriously damaging that would be. His WARNING was still loud & CLEAR within his voice, despite how softly he spoke & his gaze flickered around the room, lingering upon DAVE’S back, for a moment.

 ❝ The ENTIRE department could be overhauled.     Some would be reassigned, PROMOTED….     some would be FIRED… ❞

That was were he trailed off, assuming that his POINT had been made. John cut in EVENTUALLY & just like that, they were on to speaking about WORK—–their work. The girl ( THERESA WHITAKER ) was indeed alive & she’d APPARENTLY taken a slash at John’s hand. They now knew how she’d been providing for herself & it left Harold with the possibility of TRACKING her. He also intended to find Theresa’s uncle & take a closer look at his finances. JOHN declared his intention of finding out how to hire a gunman before rising from his seat & leaving Harold there to look after him, dumb founded for a moment or two before he turned back to his desk.  His heart still FLUTTERED within his chest & he began to mull over John Reese’s actions, his words, his VOICE….before someone else chimed in.

 ❛ So….who’s your FRIEND, Harold ? ❜

Harold glanced up at her, eyes WIDE in response to the obvious implication in her tone & he flushed, his cheeks & the tips of his ears growing HOT before he turned to look back toward the way John had left.

[fatherofmachine]

(  Originally answered here,  I figured I should post it as a meta / headcanon drabble of Harold’s first glimpses of Reese.  I just kind of combined a flashback scene,  one of the scenes from the episode RAM  &  the scene from the end of Many Happy Returns,  as Harold’s first glimpses of Reese essentially come in 3 parts before the pilot.  This is SPECIFICALLY with @anurbanlcgend‘s Reese in mind. )                       PERSONALS,  PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG !!

NOVEMBER, 2010 - AFTER FINCH FIRST UPGRADED NATHAN’S CONTINGENCY FUNCTION. 01 : FIRST SIGHTING VIA SURVEILLANCE.

Once JOHN REESE was finally  located & Harold could see  him,  through any surveillance camera he could hack into,  his gaze was locked  onto the monitor. LOCKED onto the incredibly tall  &  DANGEROUS looking man who was nearly always accompanied by a similarly dangerous looking woman ( KARA STANTON,  was the name she went by ).  Mr. Reese sat at a small table,  just a few feet behind the door to Paul Duncan’s military quarters ;  with the way the camera was placed,  from a window opposite the door,  Harold couldn’t see Reese’s face.  Stanton was off camera,  somewhere in the corner ( the sound of her movements muffled in the background ),  but Reese sat completely still.  He seemed to be STARING at the back of the door,  waiting.

When Mr. Duncan finally  stepped inside,  CONFUSION flickered across his features before he greeted them with a quiet,  UNCERTAIN ❛ Hello … ? ❜ Miss Stanton’s voice rose from off camera,  the sound of her moving items & setting them back down again distantly  joining her words.

❛ Oh,  hi.  You have any sugar ?  ❜

She sounded casual,  as if there was NOTHING at all  strange about her being there.  Mr. Duncan answered her question without giving it a moments thought,  as if it were an AUTOMATIC response ( in the bottom shelf )—–but then,

❛ —–Sorry,  WHO are you ?   How’d you get in here ? ❜

Stanton provided names,  albeit they were ALIASES for the both  of them ( Gina &  Mike )  &  she then greeted Duncan by his FIRST name,  bidding he sit.

[ The CIA suspected that Duncan was stealing  from a co-operative project between them  & the Pentagon ( "Desert Rain" ),  which supplied light  arms to the Afghan National Police & Army.  The operation was being conducted WITHOUT congressional approval. ]

Stanton searched through EVERYTHING  ( much to Duncan’s disapproval,  but he was IGNORED ),  eventually reaching his suitcase.  As he REFUSED to open it,  Stanton turned her firearm on him—–it was at that moment  that Harold recognized that his fingers,  which hovered FROZEN over his keys,  were trembling with unease—–After Stanton BRIEFLY searched the briefcase,  Duncan communicated his frustration  once they seemed RELUCTANT to admit defeat.  Reese turned away for a moment  & his expression was now visible—–but he simply seemed THOUGHTFUL,  perhaps a touch uneasy himself … but if the latter were true,  John Reese was EXCELLENT at masking it.

Anxious tension  was building within Harold,  with every OUTRAGED WORD from Paul Duncan  &  it reached a PEAK as Reese finally turned back to face him,  the man’s voice growing LOUDER by the second …

Words were cut short by the muffled shot  of Reese’s gun  &  Harold inhaled sharply,  SHOCK  &  fear  searing throughout his damaged body at the sight of Paul Duncan,  slouched within his chair,  his head down … UNQUESTIONABLY dead.   Harold had just witnessed a MURDER.

After a few seconds of pause,  John Reese’s voice rose from the silence,  quiet &  EMOTIONLESS.

❛ … Now we’re done. ❜

Harold’s hand shot out abruptly  &  closed the lid of the laptop,  his pulse HAMMERING with anxiety—–but,  as the anxiety dissipated,  anger arose instead,  ANGER because of how emotionless  Reese’s voice had sounded after he’d simply taken someone’s life.  At that moment,  he’d decided against  ever reaching out to John Reese.  The man was HIGHLY CAPABLE,  efficient … but Harold needed more than that.  SO MUCH MORE.

—–—–

JANUARY 2011 FOLLOWED BY FEBRUARY 2011 02 : FIRST INDIRECT SIGHTINGS.

AFTER witnessing the events that had unfolded with John Reese,  Kara Stanton  &  Paul Duncan,  if anyone  had ever suggested Harold would eventually change his mind,  the LEAST he would’ve done would’ve been expressing his sincere doubts.  That was BEFORE Daniel Casey,  before  seeing Reese risk his life  for someone he didn’t even KNOW …  &,  after that,  Harold had quickly realized his original judgement had been very,  very wrong.

❛ I’ve looked into the eyes of  TRAITORS before,  Casey.  You’re  no traitor.  You just look like a man who’s  TRAPPED.  You’re gonna take the next bus headed to Maine.  When you arrive in Caribou,  a man will be waiting to drive you into Canada.  If he tells me you didn’t show up,  I’m gonna come LOOKING  for you.  & when I  find you,  I’m gonna be in a  VERY bad mood,  do you understand me ? ❜

Harold had been very confused,  but his HEART had leapt  with relief ( albeit,  a WARINESS still lingered,  as if he were waiting for the trick  ).  It was STRANGE to think that Reese would be the one to teach Harold a very important  lesson,  one that had STARTED with him questioning his orders.  The world WASN’T black  &  white,  everything was always far more complex than one would assume at first glance …  &,  as Harold listened to John  speak to the nurse at that moment,  that once-emotionless,  quiet voice carrying throughout the hospital walls …. the LAST THING his voice sounded like was emotionless.  There was a strange tension to his words,  but it was MASKED by a casual friendliness—–albeit,  the question John was asking,  Harold already knew the answer &  it left his heart aching,  his features TENSING somewhat against the feeling.

The nurse’s words were difficult  to hear,  even for HAROLD,  who was on the outside looking in.  But,  her voice trailed off eventually & the sound of John’s approaching footsteps alerted him to turn blue eyes downward as he pushed along his wheelchair.  John seemed to have DIFFICULTY in seeing where he was going  &,  as he stepped in the way of Harold’s wheel chair  & collided with it briefly,  John barely acknowledged him,  OR the apology that had sprung from Harold’s throat without having thought  about it prior.

Slowly,  he TURNED,  gaze lifting to stare after John Reese’s retreating back &  he found himself repeating  the apology uselessly,

❝ Sorry, ❞

Fingers absentmindedly flipped open the file that he’d long-since settled upon his lap  &  Harold glanced downward to look over John’s information again  (  a part of him WISHED that his information about Jessica’s fate,  the woman John had loved once,  was WRONG.  Alas,  it wasn’t.  &  no amount of wishing  would change that ).  Strangely,  he felt a need  to look into the man’s face,  even if it were only a PICTURE.  A picture of him appearing happy.  HEARTACHE twinged anew within his chest &  his gaze again lifted,  as if SEARCHING for him,  but the only glimpse he caught was of John Reese disappearing behind hospital doors.

❝ … I’m so sorry. ❞

[fatherofmachine]

An old drabble request for @anurbanlcgend​​​​​ that originally was posted on my original blog in 2016,  I figured I ought to rework some of it  &  post it here.  Lots  of things have changed in my portrayal in 3 years.

                          CAUTION:  POST SEASON 5 SPOILERS !!

The PAIN of losing John Reese was OVERWHELMING.  Harold had many to mourn  & their deaths were his fault,  but John had DELIBERATELY chosen to save Harold’s life,  even if that meant his own demise.  John Reese had changed his PERSPECTIVE of the world entirely.  He had done terrible things,  of this Harold was certain ( as he’d seen it himself,  even BEFORE they’d officially met ).  When he’d been building The Machine,  even BEFORE that,  Harold had believed that certain things were UNFORGIVABLE ; there were those whom were good  & those whom were EVIL.  That was until John Reese,  employed by the CIA  & trained to be a LETHAL weapon,  nearly tore his own wrist to shreds to escape restraints because he’d heard someone else NEEDED HELP.  

He’d needed to SAVE them  & this was something Harold had expected—–but seeing the TERROR in his eyes,  the feeling of desperate loss lingering above his head had he NOT made it in time … seeing it in person  wasn’t anywhere NEAR the same as reading it in a file,  or seeing it through a camera.

The GOOD of John Reese’s heart had captured  Harold,  since the moment he’d first watched  John help Daniel Casey  ESCAPE ;  DESPITE the fact that in doing so,  he’d risked his own life ( in John’s own words—–an enemy of the state was punishable by death ).  For somebody he didn’t even KNOW.  Somehow,  by some IMPOSSIBLE miracle, John had CARED deeply for Harold,  far more than he’d ever expected.  Far more than he’d ever DREAMED possible.

Harold had expected to risk his OWN life for John Reese,  & he had,  several times—–but for him to RETURN it,  for John to have gone out of his way to SAVE him,  to PROTECT him,  so many times …. &  in the end,  he’d HAPPILY given his life,  so that Harold could LIVE.  The GOODNESS of his heart had always been shining through  & once Harold had caught a GLIMPSE of it,  beneath the layers of protective barriers,  he was long gone.  He’d fallen SO DEEPLY  &  he hadn’t entirely realized  what those feelings were as ... he hadn’t expected to feel anything  like it after Grace.

A part of him,  the part that truly  LOVED John so desperately (  &  if he were being honest,  the more selfish part  of himself  )  hated the choice he’d made.  Harold had found COMFORT,  safety & an unconditional acceptance with him  &  Harold had given the same in return.  He’d shared the SECRETS that he’d always kept so close to his chest—–secrets that he hadn’t even told NATHAN.  It’d taken him a long while to reach that point,  but the fact that he’d GOTTEN there in the first place was astounding.

Harold allowed his eyes to flutter closed,  TIGHTLY,  & without a seconds delay he remembered the OVERWHELMING amount of times they’d touched  ( with hands,  fingertips,  lips—–even the times they’d simply walked beside one another,  simply relishing within each other’s presence )  & how it all felt.  He remembered John’s scent ( a heavy MUSK,  occasionally with a hint of gunpowder ),  those GREEN eyes of his that illuminated the KINDNESS of his heart.  How those eyes appeared when he felt like he’d been given a PURPOSE,  one that was aligned with his love of helping people,  his love of saving them.

The immense PAIN of losing John Reese,  his best friend,  his PARTNER.  The person he’d LOVED,  would never leave him.  It would always send pangs of YEARNING,  of heavy ANGUISH.  Harold Finch was certain beyond a DOUBT that he would always feel the ghost of John’s loss ;  of course it may FADE somewhat over time but it would never leave him. Instead,  he would likely find ways to cut himself with the GRIEF of it until the day he died  (  or,  until his mind deteriorated enough to FORGET .... a fear that struck Harold to his very core  ).

The Machine’s words,  spoken with Root’s voice,  came back to him often  &  provided him some COMFORT ;

But if you MEANT something to someone,  loved  someone,  HELPED someone .... if even a single person  remembers you,  then ... maybe ...

You never  really die AT ALL ?

[fatherofmachine]

    ( This is a headcanon that has been heavily discussed with @anurbanlcgend​‘s Reese )

                              PERSONALS, PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG !!

Early season 2 is when John begins to very often leave the line between himself & Harold open often & sometimes overnight, after he gets Harold back. Harold of course monitors the activity on the lines, especially moreso in later seasons as they gain more people within their .... operation. This is something that he notices relatively quickly & while eventually John is able to coax Harold out to talk to him about what happened & to provide some help, they BOTH use this method of almost constant open-line as a way to put their anxieties at ease. They don’t talk about it openly, it’s just ... something that developed & started happening, something that became a routine, of sorts.

For John, the sounds of typing & the humming of computers, machinery, he associates with Harold & those sounds alone become a comfort. For Harold, kitchen sounds ( like cooking & things like that ) & ironically ... the sound of weapon cleaning becomes comfort sounds ( not that he’ll ever admit that last one lmao ). As well as, obviously, the sound of each other’s breathing & each others voices. We’ll likely add more to that as we explore it further.

Eventually, Harold mostly just ... stops disconnecting the line & sometimes he’ll say something, knowing that John will hear it & John begins to do it, too, even if they don’t directly talk about it. it becomes an unspoken agreement. After the bomb best incident ( which, in our joined main verse, shortly after Harold defuses the bomb vest is when their first kiss is & they talk abt their feelings right afterwards but mostly a lil while after ), the comfort Harold finds in having that connection INCREASES. Any abrupt radio silence &/ or not hearing from John within a certain time frame makes him more anxious than necessary ( which, later in season 4 when John almost freezes to death & Harold doesn’t hear from him for hours ... I like to think that this is an underlying factor to that ).

It’s also one of the reasons why, after John decides to leave after Carter dies in season 3, while Harold respects John’s choice ... he allows his emotions to dictate his actions for a short time & he likely has a lot of anxiety & unease rise within this time period.

ULTIMATELY, Harold & John’s exchanges of you there, Finch ? always, Mr. Reese.

you were listening ? always.

We are making quite literal & it’s something they both end up using in order to help each other deal with their trauma & anxieties.

[fatherofmachine]

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