John buttons his coat up to his throat, then pulls on his gloves as he follows Peggy out into the cool winter air. It's warmer than New York, but only a little, and there's something comforting in that, something that focuses in a little.

With a nod, he considers what she's saying. It's something he's thought about already, that maybe their team doesn't need someone to replace Finch, as if there was any hope anyone ever could, but he also doesn't function well without a leader. John knows this about himself and he isn't ashamed of it.

"I've considered that," he says, then flashes a faint smile. "But I've also considered myself. I do better with someone telling me what to do."