Title: He Has His Reasons

Author: Jedi Buttercup

Disclaimer: The words are mine; the world is not. I claim nothing but the plot.

Rating: PG.

Summary: Finch is starting to wonder whether he'd moved too soon when he'd offered Reese the job. 500 words.

Spoilers: Person of Interest 1.4 "Cura Te Ipsum"

Finch is starting to wonder whether he'd moved too soon when he'd offered Reese the job.

He'd expected a methodical, talented operative; and Reese is certainly that. What he hadn't expected is the sheer recklessness the man has begun to display as he emerges from the numbed competence that had characterized their early cases. He'd meant to give the man a purpose, yes; and Reese has pursued it with every evidence of conviction. But in certain areas, particularly his actions regarding Detective Fusco... Finch simply doesn't understand his behavior.

He'd warned Reese that Fusco would bite him back; and if Megan Tillman had not been so disciplined in her plans to deal with her sister's rapist....

He'd been so determined that killing Benton would have destroyed her, and yet his cavalier management of the detective's affairs had nearly abandoned her to that fate. Finch can't believe the former agent is actually that careless; it doesn't fit with everything else he knows of him. And yet-- Reese had vanished from view at a very critical point in Megan's case, only to reappear with a fresh cut marring his cheekbone and an assurance that the situation has been 'taken care of'.

Finch hasn't inquired, any more than he'd asked how Reese knew about the efficacy of lye in disposing of a body. But he wonders, all the same. What if Reese's timing had been just a little bit poorer? What if either the goons who'd delayed him, or Tillman, had been more violent than he'd been ready for?

He glances over at his intent partner, where he stands studying the research data for their next case and sipping at a cup of coffee. He lets his eyes trace over that new scab for a moment, wondering what other bruises Reese's suit may be hiding, then raises a hand to rub absently at the aching, fused vertebrae in his neck.

He'd thought he found the man at the lowest point of his grieving process; that in offering him a way of preventing further tragedies, he would fixate on the work as a means of achieving acceptance, of finding a way to go on. But there's something almost raw in the sharp-edged smiles that never quite reach his eyes-- in the ways in which he identifies with each new victim.

Underneath that polished surface, Reese is still bleeding. He hasn't reached bottom yet; he's still struggling, the wound only temporarily stanched by the depressive spiral Finch's offer had pulled him out of. Perhaps he really doesn't care what becomes of him, so long as he goes down saving someone else from a similar fate. That attitude could be fatal to them as a team. And yet-- the very thought of cutting Reese loose, as he might so easily do, to start over--

Finch swallows, closing his eyes as he rubs at the stiffened column of his spine.

He could. But that would make him a hypocrite, wouldn't it?

After all, he's still bleeding, too.

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