Voice in my Ear
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: Prompt by the awesome managerie76.Prompt: Reese calls Finch from jail just to hear his voice.I hope you like it!
Summary: Reese calls Finch from prison.
Pairing: Reese/Finch pre-slash
Voice in My Ear
"Make it fast John," Carter hissed in his ear as she dropped the burn phone off into his waiting hands.
He simply nodded, the weight of a cellphone a surprising comfort to him, his last link to his best friend who, if he had any say in it, would never find himself in the situation Reese had foolishly allowed himself to get caught in. He glanced through the bars of his cell, assuring himself that the guards were gone before flipping the phone open. His fingers dialed the familiar numbers without any conscious thought on his part and as the line connected he felt the cold, dark weight in his chest begin to ease and anticipation swell in his gut.
"John?"
He released the pent up sigh that he had't even been aware of holding as he heard the familiar, bird-like voice of his employer. His lips softened into a faint smile, "Harold." The name was breathed out, as if in reverence.
There was a long pause, both unsure of what to say to the other.
John hesitated before finally finding his tongue, "I heard Fusco helped you out with our latest number." Even locked up Reese would always think of the numbers as theirs, the truth behind every social security number was known only to them.
A huff of amusement was heard through the phone, "Yes. Your pet detective has turned out to be quite a resourceful asset; you trained him well, Mr. Reese."
Mr. Reese. God, John's missed hearing that.
Another pause, each second growing heavier as the words that went unsaid mounted. Finch broke the growing silence with unwavering resolve hardening his soft voice, "We'll get you out of there John, I promise."
John wanted to discourage him, he didn't want Harold putting himself at risk for a man like him. His kind could be found anywhere, but he knew Harold wouldn't listen. It was a trait they both shared: stubbornness. They would take the world apart, person by person, city by city to find each other, or in Finch's case, the reclusive genius could bring the world to its knees, topple governments all to save one man.
So, as much as John wanted Harold to stay away, to stay safely tucked in his nest he knew he wouldn't, so John didn't ask. Instead he simply said, "I know Harold."
He ended the call before it became too hard of letting go of his last link to this man and quickly took apart the phone, crushing the battery beneath his heel.
He hid the remnants beneath his mattress before sitting down again. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath holding on to the phone call he had just ended, replaying it over and over. He held the memory carefully with both hands, keeping it close to his chest. Reese knew these next few days would be trying at best and recently, it was Harold's memory that he found himself clinging to.
Review please.
A/N: Prompt by the awesome managerie76.Prompt: Reese calls Finch from jail just to hear his voice.I hope you like it!
Summary: Reese calls Finch from prison.
Pairing: Reese/Finch pre-slash
Voice in My Ear
"Make it fast John," Carter hissed in his ear as she dropped the burn phone off into his waiting hands.
He simply nodded, the weight of a cellphone a surprising comfort to him, his last link to his best friend who, if he had any say in it, would never find himself in the situation Reese had foolishly allowed himself to get caught in. He glanced through the bars of his cell, assuring himself that the guards were gone before flipping the phone open. His fingers dialed the familiar numbers without any conscious thought on his part and as the line connected he felt the cold, dark weight in his chest begin to ease and anticipation swell in his gut.
"John?"
He released the pent up sigh that he had't even been aware of holding as he heard the familiar, bird-like voice of his employer. His lips softened into a faint smile, "Harold." The name was breathed out, as if in reverence.
There was a long pause, both unsure of what to say to the other.
John hesitated before finally finding his tongue, "I heard Fusco helped you out with our latest number." Even locked up Reese would always think of the numbers as theirs, the truth behind every social security number was known only to them.
A huff of amusement was heard through the phone, "Yes. Your pet detective has turned out to be quite a resourceful asset; you trained him well, Mr. Reese."
Mr. Reese. God, John's missed hearing that.
Another pause, each second growing heavier as the words that went unsaid mounted. Finch broke the growing silence with unwavering resolve hardening his soft voice, "We'll get you out of there John, I promise."
John wanted to discourage him, he didn't want Harold putting himself at risk for a man like him. His kind could be found anywhere, but he knew Harold wouldn't listen. It was a trait they both shared: stubbornness. They would take the world apart, person by person, city by city to find each other, or in Finch's case, the reclusive genius could bring the world to its knees, topple governments all to save one man.
So, as much as John wanted Harold to stay away, to stay safely tucked in his nest he knew he wouldn't, so John didn't ask. Instead he simply said, "I know Harold."
He ended the call before it became too hard of letting go of his last link to this man and quickly took apart the phone, crushing the battery beneath his heel.
He hid the remnants beneath his mattress before sitting down again. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath holding on to the phone call he had just ended, replaying it over and over. He held the memory carefully with both hands, keeping it close to his chest. Reese knew these next few days would be trying at best and recently, it was Harold's memory that he found himself clinging to.
Review please.