He checked his watch for the hundredth time that night. He couldn't sleep as he kept vigil over John. The sun was rising, filling the room with light. It was about nine. He needed to go. He really should be leaving, but sadness and drede had him paralyzed. Sad memories of Nathan's funeral and what he imagined his own father's funeral was like preyed upon his mind.

However, his respect for Jocelyn, her courage and sacrifice demanded he attend. Once at the cememtary, he stood far away to avoid the grief stained faces of Carter's son and his father. He didn't want to see sadness in their eyes, his heart was aching even without the reminder of all who suffered with him.

Shaw was standing next to him; quietly, without moving, without any tears. He glanced at her. He wondered how she could be like that, how she could always be cold, without any emotions on her face. He envied her ice. Her face was a blank, indifferent mask. He tried to hide his own sadness just like her, but it was pointless. His guilt, remorse, and grief just spilled over, overfilling his soul, washing away everything else until nothing remained but pain.

Why didn't he predict this? Why couldn't The Machine have given them Carter's number earlier? They could have avoided this, another lost number, another lost chance. Why?! What did he do wrong? He found John, they built a team; A Machine Team. So, why? Why he didn't listen to Root!? And why didn't he do anything when Simmons shows up? That thought still haunted him. In moments like this, he wanted to be like the woman next to him- cold as ice.

When they were lowering Carter's coffin under the ground, he turned to Shaw, tears in his eyes with the pain he wanted dsperately to hide. He didn't want to show Shaw his weakness, another one of his weaknesses.

She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon Finch, we have to go back to John, see if he woke up, and we need to find Simmons."

He just nodded.

Shaw took his arm and guided him toward the car. They walked a few meters when Finch stopped and turned to one of the graves. Shaw read the inscription in her mind: Nathan Ingram. She didn't ask who it was. She felt that Finch knew the man who lying there.

They stood quietly, reverently. It was cold and rainy outside, but they didn't care. She heard Harold sobbing. She turned to him with eyes wide open, maybe she'd known Finch less than John, but she knew perfectly well that this was the first time Harold Finch was so emotional. The same Harold Finch who she thought was washed clean from emotions or just had no heart. The man who was always perfect and always calculating something in his mind.

When she stared at him she felt something strange, she didn't feel anything like this before, even when her father died or Cole. She didn't have this feeling then. This something made her heart warm, it caused tears to come to her eyes. She wanted to go quickly, run away, forget about that feeling, forget about everything.

"Harold...," Her voice broke, "Can we just go now? We need to check if John is okay. We have to go, really."

Again, this day she took his arm and pulled him, but he didn't respond.
"Finch are you okay!?" Still no reaction, all sadness flew from her "Finch!"

He throw her hand away and turned to her. When she saw his face her eyes widened further. His eyes were red from tears, when she meet him for the first time she would have bet that she would never see him cry, especially not like this.

"No! I'm not okay!" He took off his glasses and wiped his tears. He raised his hands quickly then dropped them at his side, head lowered.
"All this numbers, they are haunting me! Every time I close my eyes, I can see all the lost lives, all lost chances. You don't know what it is to be responsible, to feel that if someone will lives or dies depends only on you, only on how quick you react."

"How can you say that?!"She accused.
"You think only you have that responsibility? That only you know how that feels? I saw the deaths of many people..."

Harold cut her off with a raised voice,
"Stop interrupting me! You have no idea how many people died because of me. I'm not talking about now, but before I met John, Det. Carter, you and . I have the feeling that I killed those people because I didn't do anything. I did nothing to save them! I wanted to hide them – their numbers, I called them Irrelevants like they were things not human being, THEY DIED BECAUSE OF ME! And you will never understand that."

He took a deep breath and pointed at the grave before them.
"He was my best friend and I disapointed him. He died in front of my eyes. I could have avoided all that if only I would have listened to him. Nathan was a good man, a man of honour. He didn't deserve to die and I didn't deserve to be his friend. He tried to made this world better and I was better because of him. If I had not built The Machine he wouldn't be there, Joss too, they all would be alive... I..."

She took his hand and pulled him to herself, his head resting on her shoulder. She could feel how hard he was shaking. He opened before her, he told her everything. What was in his heart for God only knows how long.

He felt stupid. Why had he told her that? He told her his secrets, why? He couldn't stop crying tough. Couldn't calm down, still shaking and sobbing he put his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to himself. That was the only thing he needed now, to have someones close. He grabbed her coat into his hands like he didn't want to let her go, to lose that hug and this feeling.
They stood like that for nearly a quarter of an hour. In Harold's mind a battle between what has happend and what was happening right now ragd. He was thinking, why didn't she push him away? Instead, she put her arms around him. People were passing them, giving them some strange looks. They could describe Harold and Shaw as two lovers who already lost someone close, not as master and his pawn.

When Finch felt that his heart was slowing down,he calmed down a ittle, he pushed her slowly, wiped his eyes again. Then put back his glasses. Shaw started to look for something in her pockets, he knew what she is looking for.

" Here." He give her a tissue. " I'm sorry. I don't know why..."

"Shh..." She put two finger to his mouth.
"It's okay. Everyone can have a bad day. Come on, I'll take you away from here before you start crying like a baby again."

She took his hand and they walked quietly to his car

She held out her hand. " Keys?"

"Hmm?" He answere distractedly.

She waved her hand. "Keys. I will not let you drive. I don't think you're bad driver, but look at yourself. You're still shaking and I don't want to come back here in wooden box"

"Oh, Miss Shaw !I don't think such things."

"Please,Finch? Give me the keys, I know how to drive limos."

He gave her keys, As they were driving the quiet atmosphere was similar to the one from cementary: somber and silent.