Chapter Three: White Noise

John continued to pound his battered left fist into the cracks he was making on the top of the wooden coffin-like box he was in. Pound after pound got him closer to freedom. He continued to keep his right hand on top of the rod to hold it in place. Blood from his knuckles ran down his hand and arm and onto his face. He could feel the blood drip onto his eye lashes and brow. Finally getting his hand through the box, John began pushing upward through the dirt—all the while never removing his right hand from its place on his left shoulder. He knew Elias was a man of his word.

Carter arrived at the old farm house in upper Westchester County. It hadn't been inhabited since the real estate market went on decline several years ago. She located the barn way in the back. Finch had told her to look for a barn and that John would be buried in a one-foot deep hole in the center of the ground inside it.

Quietly making her way to the old barn, Carter sneaked around back to peer into one of the windows. Cobwebs tangled into her hair. She heard and saw nothing from that vantage point. She took the safety off her gun and tiptoed inside. She had told Fusco to wait at the Sports Center for her, but he would have to wait a little longer. He was good that way. He would listen to her orders and obey.

Carter eased her way into the back door of the barn on full alert. She knew she wasn't able to contend with Elias's men alone, but she needed Fusco to stay at the Sports Center to help save their Senator. Finch had told her he was on his way, but honestly, he was a small, somewhat handicapped man. What could he possibly do to help her get John out of this situation? She was tough and strong, so she decided to do this on her own.

She heard nothing, no movements, no voices. So she decided she was in the clear. Looking around the ground, she saw what Finch described would look like a grave. As she walked forward, she was startled by something red and dirty emerging from the hole. Eyeing the thing coming up out of the dirt, she realized then that it was a bloody hand and arm. It had to have been John's. She reached down and grabbed the bloody hand and started to pull.

At first, the hand retracted from her touch.

"John, it's me. It's Carter. I'm here to help you," Carter yelled down into the dirt.

The hand grabbed back, and Carter continued to pull as hard as she could until she finally saw John Reese's head and torso emerge from the dirt.

She saw him holding his left shoulder near his neck with his right hand and thought maybe he had been severely injured and was attempting to stop the bleeding. Then some dirt fell away and she could see that John was connected to a wire that ran to a computer monitor on a shelf near the freshly dug shallow grave.

"Oh, John. What have you gotten yourself into?" She sympathetically asked. Her question was rhetorical; she needed no answer. She knew what he had gotten into.

Elias.

Carl Elias, the bastard son of New York mobster Don Gianni Moretti, grew up in the foster care system after his mother was murdered. Being promised a place in Moretti's organization as long as he would remain loyal, tenacious, and capable, Elias soon realized that his own father had double-crossed him and had ordered his execution—just as he had ordered his mother's. As retaliation, Elias bombed Moretti's car, killing him and Moretti's legitimate son—his half brother. In Elias's case, blood wasn't thicker than water. He would stop at nothing to reunite the five mob families and take over the organized crime business in New York. He felt gratitude toward John for saving his life, but he mainly respected this man's extraordinary talents. He would some day have John Reese by his side.

In about 20 minutes, Carter had helped John fully reach the surface. He lay on his side on the ground near the hole, continuing to hold the silver rod in place. Carter panted from fatigue. He was a big man, and helping him to pull himself out of that hole was exhausting.

"John," Carter finally was able to say after her panting slowed.

She saw his eyes move to look up to her. His body continued to lie perfectly still. He was a bloody and dirty mess. She saw his body shaking and realized he was either cold or in shock—or both.

"Okay, wait right here. I'm going to look for some blankets," Carter said to him. She was fearful of touching him until she knew the extent of his injuries.

"No," she heard whispered from John's lips.

She paused, wondering if she had imagined that.

"You need to go save Senator Smith," Reese said to her, still lying on his side but his eyes looking straight up at her. She had never seen him this way before.

"What?" Carter asked. "You need help. I can't leave you."

"No," John whispered, turning his head away from her line of sight. "I'll be okay. Go to the Senator. You need to save Senator Smith."

"John!" Finch screamed into John's ear.

John ignored Finch. Nothing Finch could say would dissuade him from urging Carter to leave him to go and save Senator Smith. The Senator was a man of upstanding character. His service to their state proved enhancements in their public education system, transportation, and the crack down on organized crime. His death would surely bring about Elias's reign of terror in New York.

"I'll call Fusco at the Sports Center and tell him to go in and gather the Security Team and get the Senator out of there now. We'll get him out of there, John. He'll be okay. Let's concentrate on you," Carter negotiated.

"No," John repeated. "Go! You…need…to be…there," he managed to get out in a staccato string of words. He didn't want Carter to witness the poison that Elias would surely administer when Elias's plans to kill the Senator were thwarted. He wanted no company during his final moments. He had lived almost his entire life alone, and he wanted his final moments before death to be the same.

"You need help," Carter answered.

John closed his eyes and said, "Please Carter, go to the Senator. He's one of the good ones." John's body began trembling even harder. His teeth chattered.

Simultaneously, Finch yelled "Stop" into John's ear as Carter responded, "Okay, I'll find a blanket for you and then will go after the Senator. But I will be back to help you. Finch is on his way."

John opened his eyes and mouthed, "Okay." He knew it really didn't matter, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He released his right hand from its holding position on the silver rod and reached up and clicked off the ear piece, breaking the connection between him and Finch.

A few minutes later, both Carter and Reese jumped to the shrill of Carter's cell phone.

"It's Finch. I've got to answer and tell him I have found you," Carter said.

Reese knew that Finch already knew what was happening. He had been present through the ear piece.

John closed his eyes. Finch was determined, and John was losing strength trying to oppose both Carter and Finch. Why couldn't Finch just leave well enough alone? It was the right thing to do to save the Senator.

"What?" Carter hopelessly verbalized into her phone.

"If the plans to kill the Senator are interrupted, then John will get a lethal dose of poison. Don't you see the rod and wire? He's apparently connected to a monitor, and Elias has a remote control," Finch enunciated clearly and directly into his cell phone. He would do everything in his power to save his partner. "I'm almost there, but Carter, please understand what this means."

"What?" she repeated. "Oh my God." Carter sat down in a clumsy sprawl beside John. The result of her decision was vast. No one person should ever have to make the decision to save one life over another.

She was a cop. It was her civic duty to save their Senator. She hated to think what their city would be like without the good works and determination of Senator Carmichael Smith.

Exhaling a deep breath, she glanced around the barn and located an old horse blanket strewn over the wall of a stall. She then rose to her feet to get it. Dropping the blanket onto John's torso made him flinch. She had never seen him flinch before. His guard must be down.

She was also human. John Reese needed her. She hated to think what would have happened had Reese not intervened in that alleyway when her CI turned on her. John Reese had become a guardian angel to her and many others. She didn't know why. Regardless of his motivations, he was helping to clean up the streets. He was a good man whether he believed it or not.

She sat back down beside him. Positioning the musty blanket up around his battered face, Carter reached out and pulled Reece into her. He resisted her gesture of help.

"Finch will be here soon, okay? I'll just wait for him and then will go," Carter said.

"No!" John whispered loudly as he exhaled at the same time.

"John, now you listen to me. If you die, then who the hell is going to help me out there on the streets?" she implored.

John stared up at her.

"You told me last year when you saved my life in that alleyway that I wasn't alone. I can't do this alone, John. Don't you understand?" she asked.

As she held him to her, she dialed Fusco with one hand. "Stay put. Don't do anything until I give you orders," Carter said. Fusco answered her in a confused tone of voice but complied with her command.

"You have a civic responsibility to save the Senator," John said. It was his last ditch effort.

Carter looked down at Reese's shuddering body as he spoke.

"I got myself into this. I knew going in what could happen. The Senator is innocent. You have to stop it, Carter. The impact of his death will be greater than mine," John begged.

How could he be so damn pragmatic right now? Carter thought. It was his life. She had witnessed his survival instinct kick in during many difficult situations. But at this moment he seemed so certain that the Senator's life was more valuable than his own. She couldn't be that certain.

"Okay, John, but how the hell do you think I could possibly leave you in this condition?" Carter asked, showing agitation in her tone of voice due to being in such an impossible situation.

"There's not enough time, Carter. Call Fusco again. Tell him to get the Senator out of there. Go help Fusco…please Carter," John whispered in a louder voice.

She began shifting her weight to move herself out from underneath him. She could hear and see his reactions with each move. He was in pain and no longer had the energy to block it out.

Carter dialed her phone. John closed his eyes. He wasn't frightened to die. He never had been. He appreciated her ability to be rational and think about the big picture.

"You need to help me know what the right thing to do is," she said into her phone.

Finch answered, "I can't tell you that, Detective Carter. One has to decide for herself what the right thing to do is. You will have to decide for yourself…you can't save them both."

John recognized that Carter had called Finch and not Fusco. He turned his head to stare directly into her face. He could think of no more words at that moment.

"Shit!" Carter screamed into the phone and then threw it down onto the ground. She shook her head, muttered some incoherent words, and then reached down to pull John Reese closer to her. She had hoped the warmth of her body would help stop the tremors escaping out of his.

John didn't pull away.

Recognizing the sacrifice she was making, John closed his eyes and released the tension from his body, falling closer into her. She then grabbed his bloody hand to hold.

Blood from his battered hand formed an outline of his hand onto hers. His blood was sticky and gritty with dirt. She stayed still so as to not make him feel any more pain than necessary. She continued to hold him close. She had never dreamed that they would be in such a circumstance or that she would be forced to make such a horrific decision.

They both jumped at her cell phone's shrill as it lay beside them on the ground. Carter reached over and picked it up. It was Fusco.

"What's your play, Carter?" Fusco asked.

"Just sit tight, Fusco," she answered.

"It's almost halftime. Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Lionel!" she yelled. Taking in a deep breath and pausing for a moment, Carter continued in a lower and calmer tone, "Yeah, I'm sure. Just stay on the line so I can hear what's going on."

Lionel Fusco, the one-time dirty cop who was now on his own road to redemption by helping vigilante John Reese, did as he was told. He knew there was a lot he didn't know at the present time, but he trusted his partner, Detective Joss Carter. She would always do the right thing.

Putting her phone on speaker and placing it beside them, Carter returned her arms around John's torso. She closed her eyes and started whispering a prayer to God. She prayed that she was doing the right thing.

Five minutes later they both jumped at the shot. It was barely audible but piercing nonetheless. Senator Smith hadn't even made it onto the court. He took one bullet through his brain, throwing him back against the Security Team commissioned by the college to protect their adored Senator. He had died instantaneously. His 13 year career cleaning up his beloved state and making improvements in education and transportation came to a screeching halt. The bullet proof vest he wore under his grey pin-striped suit was worthless.

Carter grabbed John's bloody hand again. He returned his fingers to the same spot on her hand. They could hear the crowd screaming.

"He's down, Carter!" Fusco screamed. "He's down! What the hell, Carter?"

"Just wait there until I call you back, okay? Do nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing!" Carter screamed. She flipped off her phone.

Reese turned his head to look at Carter straight on again. Tears had formed along the bottoms of his eyes.

Carter wanted to vomit. She felt dizzy and nauseous.

There was no going back now.

She loosened the tight muscles in her back as a queue to him to relax. What was done was done.

John closed his eyes, inhaling in a deep breath. He had failed. The pain was getting more and more intense as he was no longer able to block it out. Sleep overcame him.

Five minutes later, Finch shuffled into the front of the barn alongside Dr. Farooq Madan. Dr. Madan was getting accustomed to patching up John Reese upon Harold Finch's adamant requests. Harold Finch always made it worth his while.

Carter looked up to see them coming in. She noted Finch's horrified facial expression when he saw her and their mutual friend. She saw that expression numerous times from family members being told of the deaths of their loved ones.

"He's alive…just sleeping right now," Carter said, turning up her head to look at Finch's face. She then realized that Finch and Reese's partnership was greater than employer-employee. Like herself, Harold Finch had grown to respect and care about this dirty and bloody man who lay within her arms.

Finch breathed out several pent up breaths of air. He hadn't expected to find her still there. He expected to find John Reese dead. He nodded to Carter.

Carter recognized his nod as a thank you. She knew her work there was now done. She nodded back at Finch. Finch didn't need to ask about the Senator's fate.

"Dr. Madan, can you please help up Detective Carter so we can attend to my employee?" Finch asked.

Dr. Madan knelt down to assist Carter.

Carter freed herself from underneath Reese's body. Kneeling down, Carter laid a hand on the side of his face. He startled awake.

"I've got to go now," she said softly to him. "Finch and a doctor are here to help you. You're safe. You're going to be okay."

Reese rotated his eyes to try and find Finch. He located his partner on the other side. They all shifted and turned toward the controller as its buzzing began shutting down. The soft buzz had become white noise in the background. None had noticed it until they heard its absence.

"Finch, please get this thing out of my shoulder," John asked.

Finch smiled. John's request seemed so commonplace for him.

Carter continued to look at Reese's dirty and battered face. He slightly turned up the corners of his mouth to her. She had rarely seen him smile, but when he did, she always thought what a nice smile he had.

But that smile wasn't a smile of happiness for John Reese. He recognized the sacrifice she had made for him, and soon she would be feeling its effects. A tear escaped his eye and ran down her hand still flush against the side of his face. The bloody outline of his hand was still etched across the light brown skin of her hand.

She allowed tears to also fall from her eyes.

"It's okay, John. I did what I needed to do," she said softly to him.

Dr. Madan and Finch continued to stand nearby without making a move. They were waiting for Carter and Reese to find closure to what had transpired between them. They were owed that.

Blinking again and allowing another tear to escape through his eyes, Reese stated in a raspy voice, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Carter answered, clearing her throat. She then got up to leave, knowing her captain would be calling her cell phone to direct her to the scene of the crime at the Sports Center.

At the doorway, she turned around to see Finch and Dr. Madan beginning to work on John. She had never seen anyone as battered and bruised and still alive in her entire life. He was a fighter. He was a man on a mission who had a cause, a score to settle. She knew she had done the right thing. John Reese was a good man.

"Stay with us, Mr. Reese," Dr. Madan stated loudly in his heavy Indian accent. John's eyes had begun rolling up into his head.

"Look at me, okay, Mr. Reese?" Finch commanded.

Reese opened his eyes. He could see Finch's worried expression. He had never seen such an expression for him from anyone.

"Stay with me, John," Finch begged.

Reese could hear Finch's words before he went to another place in his head.

This place was with Jessica. He saw her again at the airport.

"In the end we're all alone, and no one's coming to save you," his mind replayed.

"You don't believe that…not really," he heard her say again.

He had at that time believed that. He had no reason at that time to believe otherwise. He had always been alone. He had always fended for himself.

"Mr. Reese! John!" he could hear overtop Jessica's words.

"All alone…and no one's coming…to save you," Reese stammered. He could hear Finch ask the doctor what John had said.

Dr. Madan hadn't understood either.

"John!" Finch screamed, turning John's face toward his own.

Reese opened his eyes. "Guess I'm not alone, Mr. Finch," John whispered aloud.

"No, Mr. Reese, you're not alone," Finch answered. "Stay with me, John."

"Thank you, Harold," John said, "for coming to save me."

"You're going to be just fine, John," Finch said.

Finch helped the doctor begin to clean the dirt and blood off his face. They jerked the silver rod from his shoulder to free John of his tether to Elias. Carl Elias would never have a hold over his partner again.

"Let's get him out of here," Dr. Madan stated.

Finch started to stand to go and get the car to drive it into the barn so he and Dr. Madan could more easily get John into the car.

"I'm not alone anymore, am I, Finch?" Reese repeated, looking up at his partner, his friend.

"No, John, you're not alone anymore," Finch answered, turning toward the door to get the car to take John to safety.

The End.

A/N: Thank you all for reading...and posting comments. I'm new to POI Fanfiction, so I wasn't sure what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised at the positive reception of my little story here. I hope the muse will strike again and give me another POI story to tell. I love these characters and find them very intriguing.