The Purge had been an eventful night, leaving John a little unsettled regarding the way Darrow conducts itself and while he hadn't been particularly worried about the people he cares about, knowing them to be capable of taking care of themselves, it has shifted his attitude regarding their team.

Knowing what he's like, he's still certain he's not meant to be in the role of their leader, and he thinks Karen and Dutch will both accept that. Peggy seems less sure, but he thinks if he has the other two backing him up, he'll be able to avoid that for at least a little while longer. His focus right now is trying to figure out the right way to get back into what they used to do.

And that means finding a way to create something similar to the Machine.

Before he can even begin to consider something like that, however, he needs to tell a few people the whole story of who he is and what he had done in New York. Karen knows everything and Dutch knows more than most, but even she doesn't know about what Finch was capable of or the computer he'd created. It feels like the first step in getting back to what he used to be, telling her the entire truth, and so he's asked her to meet him late one afternoon.

When he sees her, he raises his hand and smiles faintly.

"Coffee or guns?" he asks. "Your choice. I have some things I need to tell you."

John should have gotten in touch with Dutch sooner and he knows it, but looking for Finch had taken priority and then, once he'd finally accepted the reality of what had happened, taking some time to get control of himself had seemed more important. No one needs to deal with him when he's falling apart. Things aren't pretty when John Reese is falling apart.

He's not drinking, though, which is a step in the right direction. If not for Karen, he suspects he would be. He would have gone straight to Dutch, asked her to look after Bear for a little while, and then done his best to disappear into Darrow like he'd disappeared into New York. Eventually she might have come looking for him, but by that point he would have been dead. Drinking himself to death wasn't the fastest way to go about doing it, but he knows better ways now. Ways that would ensure it ended easily.

Finch would have hated that. He would have hated even the thought and so John reminds himself his life is different now. Finch gave him that life, gave him something to fight for and gave him a purpose. To squander that now would be an offence to their friendship and so he pulls himself together with Karen's help and then goes to meet with Dutch.

Bear won't leave his side, but John doesn't try to make him. He's taken a week off work, no one at the precinct has complained because they've all lost people, they've all found themselves suddenly wondering where their friends have gone, and if John needs time off, they'll give it to him. He looks better than he had when he'd finally gone to Karen, he's wearing clean clothes and he's shaved, but there's still something haunted in his eyes.

He was never supposed to do any of this without Finch.

They all live in the same building, but he asks Dutch to meet him at the park all the same. He's been there a lot lately, spending time watching the men and women play chess, thinking Finch should have been there with them. Bear whines softly by his side and John turns away, wandering down the path toward the place where he had asked Dutch to meet him.

It's easier for him to talk here. Samaritan may not be in Darrow, but old habits die hard and a crowd makes it more difficult for someone to listen in on what they're saying. And there's plenty for him to say.

For not the first time, John is grateful to Finch for giving him his space on nights like this. It may still be that Finch knows nearly every single detail of his life, but at the very least, he gives John the impression of privacy and it's a feeling John will happily take.

He isn't nervous exactly. Or he is nervous and he doesn't understand why. It's been just over two months since he and Karen kissed in that rented house where they'd been pretending to be a married couple in order to gather intel on a couple of families. Just over two months since they started dating, something real and official, something with a blessedly genuine foundation instead of being built on lies and false identities and cover stories. That's what he'd done wrong with Iris, he'd realized it only a few weeks into his relationship with Karen. It would have been impossible to give her an authentic relationship when he couldn't even tell her who he really was.

But Karen knows. She knows more than anyone else, with the exception of Finch, and so things are going well as far as he can tell. His experience since Jessica may be limited to mostly Zoe, which hadn't been this sort of relationship, but he thinks he has a relatively good grasp on when things are going wrong.

Tonight, though, he's nervous. There's no special event, nothing out of the ordinary, but he'd called Karen, asked if she was interested in dinner on Friday, and now he's here, outside her apartment, waiting for her to answer her buzzer, his palms sweating like he can't remember them having done in a long time. Not since Jessica.

He thinks he might be falling in love with Karen, if he hasn't already, and he's puzzling that out, blotting his palms carefully on a tissue from his pocket, as he waits.

All in all, he thinks it had been a rather successful meeting. It was Peggy who had the most questions, which hadn't surprised John much at all, given how much he's told Karen about his own life and how generally easy going Dutch seems to be. For the most part, he thinks he had given her suitable answers, told her as much as he was able given how little they really do know about what their plans are at this point, and what she chooses to do from here on out is really up to her. It could be a really good team, that's John's opinion, but he's interested to see what Finch thinks about how things went.

At the end of it all, John is still Finch's loaded gun. He'll default to Finch's decisions when it comes down to it, but the thing that works best about their friendship and their partnership is knowing Finch will listen to his opinions and take them into consideration when it comes to working with a new team of people. He may be the loaded gun -- and he doesn't take offense to that, John knows where his talents lie -- but Finch takes him seriously in ways Kara never did.

It's why they're still here. Why John hasn't given up on any of this.

They're at the warehouse again, John coming from having done a quick survey of the perimeter. While he believes they're relatively anonymous here in Darrow, while he's almost entirely certain there's nothing like Samaritan in the works here, he also knows better than to take anything for granted and it only makes sense to make sure their working space continues to be secure. So he does his checks and Finch doesn't ask him to stop, but when he slips back inside, he stows his gun in his holster without a second thought, knowing he won't need it.

"We're clear," he announces, pausing to give Bear's ears a quick rub.

Though he and Finch had agreed it would be best to tell Karen the truth about who they are and what they do, though they had agreed having her on their team with her tenacity and her ability to dig up information would be an asset to everyone involved, though they'd agreed John would be the one to tell her, he's been putting it off.

As things are right now, when he's with Karen, it's easy to just be himself as much as is possible. There's no need to lie about his identity, not to the extent he has to with others. He isn't Detective Riley to Karen, he's allowed to simply be John Reese and while that may not be the name he'd been born with either, it's as close to a real identity as he's had in a very long time.

The moment he tells her the rest, that all changes. The moment she finds out about the Machine, he's afraid he'll become something else to her. A killer, most obviously. A special operative, which itself has plenty of negative connotations.

He's afraid, truthfully, to ruin that.

He's just as afraid of not telling the truth, however, and running the risk of her being hurt because of it. Finch has made it clear he knows John is habouring some feelings toward her, has even gone so far as suggesting he pursue her, but John is reluctant there, too. History has shown him what happens to the people he cares about. It's shown him what happens to assets who find themselves falling for one another. He'd lost Carter, he'd watched Root lose Shaw, he's seen first hand what losing Grace had done to Finch, and John just doesn't think he's prepared for that sort of loss. Not again.

He owes her the truth, though. That's what they've decided. So he calls her one afternoon, asks if she'll meet him, and finds himself nervously waiting for her outside the same diner he'd told her about Jessica and how he would have ended up dead if not for Finch. On the outside he looks as calm as ever, but inside he can't seem to find a moment of peace.

He probably shouldn't have gone through the breach, but after the newspaper article Karen had found on him, he hadn't been able to help himself. It was a risk, but it was one he was willing to take just to find out what was on the other side, to see the world another John Reese had lived and died in, the man who had never been found by Finch, who had never been saved.

It hadn't seemed all that much different than this one. He hadn't felt the need for a disguise, expecting anyone who had known this world's John Reese would have known him at the man he'd died as. Homeless, bearded, his hair long and unwashed. No one would recognize him as he was now. He'd wandered through, observed the people who lived here, stopped in at the library to find himself a copy of the newspaper Karen had shown him, then headed out to pick up a coffee before returning to the Darrow where he'd found himself months ago.

Carrying the newspaper with him is perhaps a little dangerous, but there's a part of him that wants to show it to Finch. Everything he'd told Karen about Finch's role in his life had been the entire truth, but he knows he's never been particularly good at expressing his appreciation right to Finch's face, and he thinks the article might encompass everything he doesn't know he has the right words to say.

Without Finch he would be dead. He's long since thought so, but now he has all the evidence he'll ever need.

He's back in the Darrow he's been living in these past few months, reluctant it to call it his Darrow or the regular Darrow as he's heard others refer to it as. John wouldn't call himself settled, he'd been disappointed to find he wasn't able to orchestrate a way for him and Harold to head home through the breach, but he's more comfortable here. This is a city he's investigated, one he's searched, it's a city he's come to know. There's comfort in that.

John might be reluctant to say he's made friends, having never been very good at friendship before Finch, but at the sight of a familiar face ahead, he smiles and lifts one hand in a wave.

"Afternoon," he says when he's close. "How are you?"

John has been to look at the breach several times since hearing about it.

He's stood and looked at it, watched it, taken pictures of it. He's seen people go in and come out, but he hasn't trusted it nearly enough to investigate any further. Since coming to Darrow, he's accepted the world to be larger and stranger than he'd been led to believe, but that doesn't mean he trusts these new aspects and he certainly doesn't see any benefit in walking headlong into it.

People have gone through. They've come back. There's apparently another version of Darrow on the other side. They seem well enough, like nothing bad as happened, but he simply doesn't trust it. He doesn't trust any of this and he's not curious enough to go through and put himself in danger. Those who are traveling through the breach are taking it upon themselves and that's fine, he trusts people to make that decision for themselves. But he'll stay here and watch, doing whatever he can to learn about it before making any sort of rash decisions regarding going through to the other side.

At part of him wishes he would see someone he knows coming out, someone he could speak with about what they've seen, and how they're feeling. He's not doctor, but hearing about any physical reactions will make him feel as if his decision to stay out is the right one and it might give him something to use when he inevitably tries to keep others from going through. Then again, he doesn't want any of the few people he's met in Darrow to suffer any ill effects just so he has a better argument against the breach.

He has his phone raised to take another picture when someone steps through. Someone familiar.

John lowers the phone, watching Karen come through, then sighs softly before he steps forward and lifts his hand, waving at her to get her attention.

"At least tell me you're safe," he says.

"I just wish we had more time."

John is dying, Carter is right about that. He can feel it happening now, although he couldn't before, too caught up in the lie of seeing her, too confused by the heat, her voice, the music. The car is cold, too cold to keep him alive until morning, and no one is coming for him. He's going to die here.

"Yeah, well." She sounds sad as she shakes her head. "That's something we never get enough of."

"You're right." She always is. He's known that for a very long time and he thinks this is the first time he's said it, but it's possible he just doesn't remember. There's so much he wishes he'd said to her, so many things she'll never hear because he couldn't tell her. "I don't let people in. It's not why I didn't tell anyone about the case. I wanted to close this one myself. Just me."

"Why?"

"It was a chance to be close to you again. I didn't... wanna share that with anyone else." Everything is cold except for his face. His face is warm, tears cutting through the chill against his skin and he wishes he could lift his hand, wipe his cheek, but his hands are too cold and his shoulder hurts too much. He misses her.

"There's another reason why I kept that photo," she says, then smiles. "It was a side of you I hadn't seen. Happy. Hopeful. In love. You can feel that way again, John, you just gotta hold on. There are people who care about you. Who could love you. Just gotta let them in. Just like you told me before. Whether I liked it or not, I wasn't alone. Neither are you."

She's right. But he's alone now.

It's his own doing, she's right about that, too. Carter always did see through him better than almost anyone. With Finch it's different. Finch does his research, finds the files no one else can find, cracks them open and reads every last sentence. Finch knows him, of course he does, he's the best friend John has ever had, and he huffs out a soft laugh as he realizes the absurdity of that truth. Harold Finch is the best friend he's ever had and John doesn't even know his real name.

But while Finch knows him, Carter can see through him. She doesn't bother with files or hacking computers, all she's ever had to do is look at him and she can see everything.

Could see everything. She's dead now.

But she's beside him here in the car and John twists his head, wincing at the pain that races down his arms, and looks at her. God, how he misses her. She's looking right back at him, her face soft, worried, and a shudder goes through him as he realizes she has every right to be angry with him, but she isn't. She's only sad. He'd cared about her so much, wanted to do right by her, make her proud of him, he'd wanted to protect her even in the moments when he knew she didn't need protecting, he'd wanted to stand by her and watch her climb the ranks and feel the pride he had known he would feel as she conquered every obstacle in her way and he hadn't said a damn word about it.

Whether or not it had been love, John has never let himself examine for fear of what the answer might be, but he does know he hasn't felt what he'd felt for Joss Carter in a very long time. Not since Jessica.

It doesn't matter now. She had died in his arms and now he'll die alone, trapped here in this freezing car, bleeding sluggishly from the gunshot wound he'd sustained because he'd had to go this alone. Because he had needed so desperately to be close to her one last time.

"Will you stay with me? Just for a little bit?" he asks.

"Yes, of course. Just hold on, John."

If he closes his eyes, maybe she'll take pity on him. Maybe she'll put a hand on the back of his neck and let him feel some of her warmth as he goes, so he leans forward against the steering wheel, puts his good arm up against it to support his head and finds suddenly there's nothing to lean against. He goes tumbling forward off the seat of the car, rolling at the last second and still landing painfully on his shoulder, only just barely protecting the gunshot wound. The car is gone and he grits his teeth against the pain, the prickling in his limbs, and lies still for a moment, willing himself the strength to move.

As he turns, his cheek scrapes against a rock and he opens his eyes, squinting up at the terribly bright sun, a shiver of pain and cold wracking his body as he suddenly realizes the weather is warm. Somehow, in the middle of winter, the weather is warm. There's sand under his cheek and somewhere not far from here is the sound of crashing waves and he would swear he can hear Jessica's voice. John closes his eyes again and waits for the punchline, because men like him don't die and get heaven. They don't get to go back to their happiest memory, they don't ease back into the hotel room with the love of their life, the sound of waves pounding on the beach.

They just stop. They wink out of existence and the world gets a little bit better for their loss.

So he keeps his eyes closed and he waits for it to end, because he'd meant every word he'd said to Carter in the car earlier. He missed her and he'd wanted to let her in and he regrets every single day that he hadn't, but he was always going to end up here. Dying alone, no one there to hold him at the end of it all.

A child laughs and John thinks, as hallucinations go, that's not the worst one he could die hearing. He would rather it be Carter. He would rather it be Jessica, but there are worse things to see and hear at the end than a happy child.