I won't run, the guilt is mine

[ornithologist]

WHO: Harold Finch & established CR
WHEN: Forward dated post-mission
WHERE: Around Etraya
WHAT: Harold canon updates to post-series and has a bit of a time. Closed starters below. There will be an open post for him after these are sorted through!
NOTES\WARNINGS: This whole post and all threads are full of descriptions of grieving and suicidal thoughts & ideation.

After it happens, after he recovers his memories of how everything fell apart, Harold questions his grip on reality. It would be appropriate if after all this time he finally met his limit. John is dead and Root is dead and Elias is dead and-- the Machine is dead-- and Grace is alive, but what right does he have to see her, how can he get a happy ending when he's the one who deserves it the least--

He's in the library they abandoned long ago and there's traces of his life here with John all around him. Rationally, intellectually, he knows where he is. This is Etraya. He can reread their text conversations, few though they were, and reassure himself that this is real and that this is happening. But there's no one here. It's eerie, everyone away on the mission; it's like Harold is in some kind of bizarre tortuous stasis. He's here but no one else is, survivor's guilt made manifest in its natural apotheosis.

He finds the remnants of all the projects he'd been working on so steadily what must've been a day ago, electronic pieces strewn around and multiple computers chugging test code, and stares at them. They seem so pointless now. Meaningless. Harold struggles to find an ounce of caring in his soul, for anyone, for anything. Surveillance? A covert encrypted network?

What does it matter? He's utterly alone.

Harold can't stay there. The numbness is getting increasingly punctured every time he finds something John left behind: washed dishes from making him dinner, a suit jacket left over the back of a chair, and then Bear himself. He has to leave the library or risk feeling things again and that's a tidal wave whose potential aftermath frightens him.

Mutely, he leashes Bear and heads out, and for hours he wanders the empty streets of Etraya, wondering how much longer he has to endure existence.

Comments

[aimsforknees]

[ This is happening, this is happening and John doesn't know what to do about it. He can't do anything about it. Harold has made up his mind and John can recognize that. John couldn't make him understand before, and he can't change his mind now. He didn't know how to comfort Harold, and now Harold is leaving.

Kara was right when she said he was practically a different species. That normal people wouldn't understand him anymore. He feels as empty as he did in that bar. ]

I can leave so you can stay here.

[ It's the only thing he can think to offer. Shaw's residence is safe, but Harold lives here. He won't drive Harold away from where he lives, from where his comforts are, just because he doesn't know how to be a person anymore. ]

[ornithologist]

[ And again -- it's like John isn't listening, their usual rapport evaporated. Harold told John to stop offering to leave and he keeps doing it. The typical way they can read through each other's words is completely absent, and Harold feels stranded and bereft, underscoring his loss. John is here and not dead in an immediate sense, but there's no connection. Trying to grasp that frayed thread feels like he'd be trying to catch a live wire. ]

No, [ he refutes simply, and starts making his way out. ] I can't stay here with all these memories. I'll come back for my computers later.

[ Once he's made a decision, he's implacable; there's a profound relief to deciding to do something and then carrying it out, letting his frantic mind rest until it's done. Even living upstairs he thinks will be difficult, but at least Shaw's apartment is something that didn't exist at home, something he has no associations with. It's the best he can do while resisting the urge to pitch himself entirely off the map. ]

[aimsforknees]

[ John just watches Harold go. He watches him go and suddenly the library feels so empty. Like it means nothing. There's no comfort here anymore, all he can hear is Harold saying he can't see him anymore. Not for forever, but for how long? How long can John stand to be in this space that should have Harold in it, has always had Harold in it, who is now gone?

The thought of going outside and seeing anyone is terrible, there's so much opportunity for him to run into people at the apartments and he simply doesn't know how he could face anyone right now, but the strangeness of the space feels like something he could stomach. He has no attachment to the place and as long as he keeps strange hours he'll be free to just drink until he can't think anymore. John suddenly realizes that's what he's going to do. He'll have to stop at the liquor store on his way over. Last night he held back, he was good, but he's already replaying this conversation over in his mind, already thinking about how Harold cried. He can't stand it.

And if he leaves, Harold won't have to see him when he comes back for his computers. He'll be giving Harold that, at least. Apparently it's the only thing he can give, since he failed at giving Harold what he needed before.

John leaves their living space, closing the door softly behind him, and goes to find something to drink. ]