I love going back over episodes and noticing things I hadn't before. In 'Cura te Ipsum' (s1 e4) the exchange in the diner between Reese and Dr. Tillman is so intense. John even tears up at one point - so powerful. But what really struck me this time was Finch's reaction to their conversation. He is nearly overwhelmed with emotion himself.
It's an interesting time in their relationship - they've been working together long enough to begin to know one another, begin to trust - but not long enough for real friendship.
That got me thinking - which then got me writing… And I realized that the episode is extremely well named.

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Cura Te Ipsum
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"Reese? Where's Dr. Tillman?"

Finch asked the question almost timidly. He spoke softly, gently. Of course he'd listened to every word of their conversation, which had ended with John's quiet but deeply sincere "Thank-you." Since then things had been silent.

Listening to their murmured conversation, Finch had heard a depth of emotion in Reese that had not surfaced to this extent before- His regrets. His pain. His belief that he was not a good person, and because he wasn't - it was up to him to let the good people stay good.

"...She's fine... I have her van… and Benton."

Finch straightened his already perfect posture. There was something in Reese's tone that made him pay closer attention than usual.

"What are you gonna do with him?" Finch was suddenly more than a little afraid of where things were going - where Reese was taking them.

"We're gonna have a little talk."

Yes, there was definitely something different. Reese was deeply troubled. And at the same time he sounded… resigned... almost… hopeless?

Something about this number had struck a chord deep within him. It bothered Finch. He remembered hearing Reese tell Dr. Tillman, 'Everybody needs someone to talk to.'

Who did Reese have?
Who did he have?

They only had each other.

"Why do you do it Finch? The Machine? The Numbers? All of it?"

And Finch heard the desire in his voice. He really wanted to know. All of the pain: physical, mental, emotional - all of the evil - the risk - everything they went through every single day. Reese might even be asking, 'Why do I do this?'

And suddenly, Finch wanted to tell him - wanted to really talk to someone for once - to unburden himself. But no. He couldn't. He just… couldn't. Years of silence and privacy could not be overcome in mere moments. And he wasn't at all sure he deserved the reprieve.

"I told you, Mr Reese…"

He squeezed his eyes shut. He could not do it.

"...I have my reasons."

He actually took a breath to continue, glad that John couldn't see his anguish. He wanted to list his reasons - to tell John. He had to bite down hard to keep the words inside: I do it because of 9-11. Because of Nathan. Because of Grace. I do it because if I don't do something, no one will. Because I know - and knowledge begets responsibility. Because I built this thing in ignorance - not fully understanding all that it would bring. Because of all my failings - my failures. Because… Because I must.

When had Mr. Reese become someone he was willing to - someone in whom he wanted to confide?

Fleeing to safer ground, he quickly and abruptly changed the subject.

"And our little problem with Detective Carter?"

But then he listened and he heard the disappointment and sadness in Reese's voice, "Taken care of…" He heard John's resigned acceptance of the fact that he didn't have anyone to talk to after all.

And Finch was left to wonder what it was, specifically about this case, that had bothered Reese to the point that he had opened that door a tiny crack - that door that had been closed, locked, sealed, and plastered over for so very long… He had opened it just enough that if Finch had chosen to he could have walked through it.

Finch doubted he would ever really understand. And like Mr. Benton's fate - he wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

They were - both of them - alone. If there was any healing to be had, they would have to do it for themselves.

Cura te ipsum. - Physician, heal thyself.

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END
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