Title: One of Our Own

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: POI and all related characters are property of CBS and others who aren't me.

Notes: I started writing this immediately after the episode aired but never got around posting it before the second part aired. Also, please be kind as this is my first POI fic.


Harold stood there in stunned silence. The phone ringing was louder than the gunshots that had echoed in the streets. He couldn't believe what happened. It was a horrible mistake that none of them should have made and that was letting down their guard. They shouldn't have done that. Not with Simmons still out there.

He shakily called Shaw to get her and Fusco there as soon as possible. Harold could see and hear the turmoil in his friend right now but his judgment was most likely impaired at the moment and he had to get them all off the street before they attracted attention.

Harold rushed to his car and drove over to them. Shaw and Fusco arrived just as he was getting out. The younger woman immediately took charge. "Finch, hold onto Carter. Fusco, help me with Reese. John," Shaw said. "You have to let go."

As Harold held onto Carter, he shook his head. He understood her lack of emotions but John was full of them and it was going to take a lot more than that to get him away from Carter, the woman he loved, plus he had been shot as well. "We have to get Carter to safety," Fusco added. His tone had a more gentle sound to it. Harold could tell that he was trying to keep strong for John.

"Safety?" John gasped out and suddenly he was standing in one swift motion, anger in his eyes. He looked over where Simmons' body was supposed to be but there was no sign of him. "That fucking bastard."

Sirens were heard in the distance. "Mr. Reese, we must go!" Harold said surprised that the younger man hadn't run off. "You need medical attention and the authorities are coming now!"

Shaw looked at Harold apologetically and before he could say a word she landed a swift punch to John's head. She and Fusco caught him before he hit the ground and put him in the back seat of Harold's car. Fusco took a deep breath. "Shaw, take my car," he said, tossing her the keys. "I'll tell 'em I was meeting Carter and saw her get gunned down. Everyone knows that Simmons is still out there. Go!"

Harold took a deep breath, nodded to them both and got into the car. He glanced in the rear view mirror flashing back to a moment similar to this. As he drove he remembered the night Mark Snow, another former CIA agent, used Carter to get to John.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell happened, Finch?" John asked, his voice calmer than ever and that was a bit unnerving.
"Mr. Reese, it was necessary for you to leave the crime scene as the police were on their way. Besides you were shot and you need medical attention."

"No."

"No? I'm afraid you don't have a choice." Harold glanced back in time to see the familiar eyebrow raise. "I realize that you want to go after Simmons, but right now you need to process everything that's happened. Once you do you will be able to dispatch of him."

John frowned. "Are you giving me approval to kill Simmons? That's not like you."

"Well he hit way too close to home this time, didn't he?"

He didn't answer, merely sat back in the seat, wincing at the pull of his wound. Suddenly he sat forward again. "You didn't just leave her…"

"No, of course not, Mr. Reese. Detective Fusco is there. I figured he would be the best person to be waiting with her. Maybe saying he brought her to the station to pick you up and they put you in a cab. We don't want them to connect you to that area at all, do we?"

"Who cares about me?" John muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Finch glanced at Reese again and the younger man seemed lost in thought. He sighed and stopped at the red light and that's when it happened. In one swift motion Reese had opened the door and was out of the car. He jumped out as fast as he could. "Mr. Reese!" Harold exclaimed. "John!"

It was too late. Even if Harold could catch up to his friend there was no telling what state of mind he would be in. He needed to get a hold of Shaw. She would be able to stop him. Before he could get back into the car, though, the pay phone began to ring. Harold took a deep breath before walking over to answer. The familiar tone resonated in his ear. Apparently someone needed to be saved tonight and Harold had a pretty good idea who that might be.