Title: All This and Heaven Too

Author: ChappiIchigo

Beta: The lovely, SevenCorvus – Thanks again for this!

Pairing/Characters: Finch/Reese.

Prompt: "finch/reese h/c"

Warnings: Sick John and Caretaker Finch!

Author's Note: This is set after "Judgment" and before "The Fix". This is the fic I did for the POI Gift Exchange, thought I should finally upload this thing.

II

This week John Reese was the unlucky victim of the flu virus, a dangerously high fever and Finch's care. John was perfectly happy submitting to the first two difficulties, the last one was a bit harder to accept. Finch has a bad habit of hovering, he knows on a subconscious level that the man is just worried but good God he could be overwhelming.

It had all started two days after the Gates situation, Finch gave him a couple days off due to his shoulder, and John still showed up at the library at dawn on both days.

He had this need to make sure the other was taking care of himself because even though Finch was extraordinarily brilliant, he still forgot to feed himself. He did not know when to sleep which is probably why John finds him more often than not hunched over his desk.

John despite himself still brings breakfast, he knows the coffee is left to cool and the food is half-eaten but at least it is something.

He'll stick to the belief, it's the thought that counts.

II

The first time he wakes, Finch isn't in the room, but he can feel cool washcloths against his neck and forehead. The dull ache in his temples is now coming into fierce thrum, and the burn in his throat makes him cough, and he slowly tries to sit up.

He removes the washcloth from his head but doesn't stand, he knows if he tries he'll end up flat on his ass, so instead he uses the nightstand for support.

How John makes it to the bathroom is a blur and a few steps, he shuts the door and strips out of his suit before stepping into the shower. He scrubs careful of his shoulder and steps out exactly five minutes later he regrets it quickly wishing for just a few more moments.

The folded clothes on the counter make him smile, he dresses slowly in a grey shirt and loose sweatpants and steps out to face Finch's quiet wrath.

John slowly makes his way into the living area, leaning on the walls for support. He nearly trips on Diva who apparently had to come greet him; he bends down to give her a quick pet.

Diva is a pure black Himalayan cat that looks like she is a couple pounds away from being obese, he had originally mistaken the cat for a rug, well…a very odd, big rug. She has a very bad habit of plopping down in the middle of the floor he trips over her often.

"Hey girl, did you meet Harold?" She butts her head against his hand.

He watches her walk over to the couch and give a loud yowl, he shakes his head in amusement; watching Finch's pale hand pet her ears.

"Hello Finch," he coughs, and groans as the movement results fierce ache in his temples.

"Mr. Reese, I'm going to need you to take the pills on the counter." John sighs, always business.

He does as instructed, drinking the water slowly; he really doesn't want to vomit the pills back up. "Mr. Reese, there is soup on the stove," John raises a brow; Finch is still petting Diva in earnest, studiously not facing him.

"But first, I need to take your temperature." John quietly watches as the billionaire makes his way to him, armed with a small white thermometer. Azure eyes give him a once over before initiating eye contact. "I apologize for the personal intrusion," Finch says slowly.

He knows all too well how Finch likes his personal space. He shuts his eyes as a cool hand rests on his forehead, opening them when they are gone and ignores the longing in his chest.

"You're scorching, go back to bed Reese, I do not need a machine to tell me how close you are to falling out." John gives a grunt as he stomps to the bedroom; Finch has a way of making anyone feel like a child getting lectured for not looking both ways while crossing the street.

He plops down on his side, not bothering with blankets and falls asleep quickly.

II

There are days when John really regrets taking Finch up on his offer, days where he should have taken the money instead of saving lives. Those are the kind of days he is reminded just how lonely he truly is, outside of Finch just whom did he have?

The answer is easy, no one. Fusco is someone he keeps around for inside information, the man does have some redeeming qualities, but the thing is, it's so very hard to trust someone who's tried to get him killed.

Finch is someone he clings to by default; Finch knows everything the government has on him. Nevertheless, if John is being honest with himself, Finch knows what kind of a monster he is and the man still reached out.

Those are the days he tries to not think about wanting a drink.

II

When he wakes for a second time, he feels like his body is on fire and the bile in his throat makes it feel tight. He grabs the trash bin next to the bed and vomits; John dry heaves for a couple of moments before collapsing back onto the bed.

He falls into a limbo of lucidity and unconsciousness, hearing the distant bells of Diva's collar and Finch's foot steps make him twitch but he doesn't open his eyes.

Finch knows John is getting worse, so he once again puts the washcloths on Reese and then retrieves a chair from the kitchen. He sighs and pushes a piece of John's hair off his sweaty forehead, then he sits in the chair and waits for the other man to wake.

He notices that John wakes at random; it's the fourth time John wakes that startles him.

Finch jumps when Reese grabs his hand, "Stay," Reese murmurs, Finch tries to dislodge his fingers from the grip. "Please." The pleading look in Reese's green eyes and the desperation in his voice make Finch give a reassuring squeeze of John's fingers, "Go back to sleep John."

Reese falls into a slumber loosely clinging to Finch's fingers, and Finch for the life of him cannot bring himself to remove them.

When John really wakes it's eight in the afternoon, he can feel a cough itching his throat but the good thing is the headache is gone.

"Nice of you to join us Mr. Reese, how are you feeling?"

"Like I died." He quips dryly.

"Good, that means you're feeling better." John rolls his eyes and doesn't respond. He can tell Finch is in pain, he's had to learn the triggers and signs. Finch is sitting perfectly still, hands braced on his knees, and his back is ramrod straight.

"You're in pain," Finch doesn't comment, he sighs and points to the nightstand.

"Take your pills and eat your soup." He stands and leaves the room.

John retaliates by not taking his medicine.

II

Finch once again finds himself at Reese's bedside; he is not pleased to see that the pills are still on the tray. Nevertheless, it is time for him to depart, he really needs to get back to the library and get cleaned up.

Finch still wasn't sure if he should leave Reese to his own devices, if earlier was anything to go by. That and the fact that he really didn't know how his missing presence would affect the man's mental state.

The loud cough makes him look over to the prone figure. Reese's hair was in complete disarray again, his eyes were open but they weren't focused.

"Everyone leaves," Finch raises his brow at the sudden confession, but remains silent. "Don't leave. Please don't leave." He's curling in on himself now, cradling his knees against his chest.

"I'm here to stay John." Reese holds out a hand and he takes it in his own, Finch watches as he relaxes, slowly falls back to sleep.

"Thank you." He whispers, giving the intertwined hands a squeeze.

"You're welcome, John." Finch watches the ghost of a smile curl on his lips.

Finch pretends he has forgotten about the kiss.

John pretends he doesn't remember the kiss.

II

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