Disclaimer: Person of Interest is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

Spoilers: Everything up to and including episode, 3.10 "The Devil's Share," is fair game.

A/N: I've been thinking about what Reese would do post-"The Devil's Share." The press release for 3.11 "Lethe" confirmed one of my suspicions/guesses, but the promo made this story AU.

Warning! It's quite possible you might need a tissue for this one…

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Chapter One: Offering

The wind blew his coat open and he shivered. It had been weeks since he had last been outside, and in the interim, the weather had turned bitter cold despite the bright, sunny day.

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He had finally been deemed well enough to get around on his own and had been released from the well-meaning clutches of Finch, Fusco, and Bear. He was pretty sure that Shaw, in her own unique way, had cared too, but it was unclear if it was because she considered him a friend or was annoyed that she had had to pick up his slack while he was recovering.

Waiting barely five minutes after Finch had deposited him back in his apartment before turning right back around and leaving again. His wounds still bothered him and he was still fighting the fatigue that had plagued his recovery, but he put both issues to the back of his mind.

Along the way to his final destination, he stopped at one of the many bolt holes that he had set up around the City with emergency caches in case he had needed to make a quick getaway. Pulling out the extra set of clothes and shoes that he had stashed away, he changed into them. Keeping only one small item that he had been carrying with him in his pocket, he left behind everything else that he had been wearing. He wanted to make sure that Finch had no way of tracking him and didn't trust anything that his employer had had access to in recent weeks. Grabbing the backpack filled with essentials, he left the now burned hideaway through the back entrance.

It had taken longer than he had wanted to get to where he needed to go, but eventually he found the recent addition to the sea of stone memorials.

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He put his hands in his coat pockets, drawing the wool fabric closer around himself, but at this point he didn't think he would ever be warm again. His fingers sought out the only item he had in his pockets, the only thing he wasn't carrying in his backpack, and he clasped it tight in his hand. Despite how cold he felt, the metal in his hand instantly began to warm up.

The words on the grave marker before him deepened his sense of loss and acted as a condemnation to his recent attempt at vengeance.

Don't let this…

They were her last words.

He knew what she had been trying to say. He knew, but in the surge of despair and rage over her dying in his arms, he had allowed his darker nature to completely take over.

Not caring about the carnage he left behind or the fact that he was dying, he had sought revenge.

And he had failed.

He had failed in so many ways.

Failed to fulfill his purpose. Failed to protect Joss. Failed to honor her sacrifice. Failed to kill Quinn. Failed to make Simmons pay. Failed to take Carter's last words to heart.

In working with Finch, he had distanced himself from his dark and twisted past and had striven to do better and to be a better person.

He had had a purpose, and he had turned his back on it.

Don't let this…

Don't let this…make you lose yourself again.

It was too late; he was already lost. He had lost himself the moment Joss's soul had fled her body.

He was lost and didn't know if he had the strength to find himself or his purpose again. He wasn't even sure if Finch would ever want him back again. He wouldn't blame Finch for not wanting him back. He didn't deserve another chance.

Don't let this…change your mind.

While trapped in the City Morgue, they had spoken about the closest they had come to dying and he had admitted that he had almost taken his own life. He had finally confessed that she had helped to change his mind.

Somehow that had stuck in his mind as he had recovered from his gunshot wounds.

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He took his hand out of his pocket. Stepping forward, he set the small object in his hand on top of Joss's gravestone.

It wasn't the same one that he had given his friend; that one had been lost in the interim. It may not be the same exact bullet, but for all intents and purposes, it was the same. It would have to be close enough.

Leaving the bullet on her grave was a promise that he wouldn't kill himself. He wouldn't take the easy way out. He deserved to live with his pain and with his failure. He deserved to live on without the forgiveness that only she could bestow on him.

He closed his eyes and felt an errant tear slip down his face. After a deep breath, he reopened his eyes and finally found himself able to say what he had wanted for weeks to tell her.

"I'm sorry, Joss."

He bowed his head and turned his back on the gravestone. Her last words came back into his head as he walked away from the graveyard and from everything he had thought he had built for himself in New York City.

Don't let this….

I don't know if I can Joss, but I will try.

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A bespectacled man in an expensive, three-piece suit watched the obviously broken man walk away from their good friend's grave.

He had thought this might happen and he understood his tall friend's motivation, but he was exceedingly sorry to see Reese leave everything behind.

Finch could only hope that John would someday rediscover his purpose.

He had already lost too many friends; he didn't want to lose this one.

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To be continued…

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A/N: This was originally only going to be one chapter, but Finch insisted on having his say. ;0)

Thanks for reading!