Rescue
Jezyk
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Through Legacy.

Part One

He was running as fast as he could and still, his legs weren't moving fast enough.

He wasn't a big fan of running and tried to avoid it whenever possible, but now it wasn't really a choice. Not with the way Finch was shouting at him to hurry in a worried voice he'd honestly never expected from his boss regarding Carter. Finch still hadn't forgiven her for nearly getting Reese shot and so for Finch to be worried, Reese knew something was very wrong.

And fuck if he hadn't been too fucking far away to get there soon enough.

When Finch's shouts died out, Reese wanted to panic, but he didn't have the luxury. He couldn't slow down to catch his breath or wait out the stitch in his side. He had to keep moving, running, trying to get to her faster than he possibly could. A fucking time machine was the only way he could get there soon enough.

"Finch, what's going on?" He needed more information; he needed to know it wasn't too late. Hell, it was already too late, but he needed to know Carter was still alive, at least. Otherwise, well, fuck, he'd just fucking die right there.

"I couldn't, I can't," his voice faltered and he took a long time to recover. "I had to turn it off. I couldn't listen to it."

Oh Finch was next on his list. No, listening in to what was happening wasn't the same as being there with her, as helping her, as stopping the attack, but it was something. Some kind of support, at least a witness to it. And fuck if Finch hadn't chickened out.

"I'm close, Finch, where is she?" Reese didn't have time to deal with Finch's panic either. Dealing with an emergency was all about priorities. Carter first, Finch later.

Reese cursed him silently in the delay that followed as the frightened man realized he needed to snap out of it.

"I'm trying to pinpoint her location."

"Why the hell didn't you already do that, Finch," he hissed through clenched teeth. If he was too late, if Carter was hurt, he'd kill Finch for delaying him. Fucking kill him. Then he'd kill himself. "Finch!" He couldn't help it. Hell, if Finch was terrified, Reese knew there was good reason to be upset.

"You're less than a block away. She's a little to the south of your position, at least, her phone is."

He scanned the area, spying a derelict warehouse that had to be the place. Normally he would have preferred to scope it out, peek through the broken windows and get the lay of the land before he marched in. Hell, he wasn't even armed. He hadn't been expecting Finch's frantic call that Carter was in trouble.

The scream, a terrified, helpless scream, destroyed any idea of being careful. He wasn't about to waste the time to check. He ran for the door. Fuck caution and safety and an exit strategy. He had to get to her. He had to help her. He thought of nothing else.

"Oh my god, John, was that her?"

Reese didn't even hear the man's voice. He tore through the door and into the dark building. There were shapes, dark ones that he couldn't count or make out as his eyes adjusted to the limited light that made its way through the windows. Finch had only known there were several voices and judging from the neighborhood, he'd surmised it was a gang that had grabbed her.

It only took a second for his sight to correct and the first thing he saw clearly was Carter. She was on the ground, fighting the man above her, the man who had a knife to her throat and was working the button of her pants. Her blouse was already torn open.

He saw red.

The group that had been standing around cheering and egging the assailant on moved toward Reese. Eight, maybe ten, he couldn't quite be sure. He just knew he felt bones breaking and blood smearing on his hands and cries of pain from bastards he wished he had the time to kill.

But his eyes were on Carter, on the bastard who didn't look up while he assumed his friends would take care of the intruder. Reese was blinded by fury, by pain, by pure rage, when he reached out. The man's neck was snapped before Reese even realized it. The only further attention Reese paid the dead man was to shove him off Carter.

She was crying, hyperventilating, sobbing, rolling onto her side and curling in on herself.

He squatted down near her, understanding that space was quite important for her at that moment, denying his urge to pull her into his arms. "Jos?" He waited for a response that didn't come. He shifted to the right, trying to catch her attention. "Jos, it's ok. You're safe now."

Slowly, she looked up at him, her tears flowing freely as her face crumbled, but it didn't seem like she even saw him.

It was breaking his heart to see her like that. "I'm here, Jos, it's ok."

Finally her eyes shifted, locking on his for a brief moment. "John?"

And then she sat up, pulling herself up by grabbing hold of his shirt, throwing herself into his chest, collapsing under the weight of her tears. He lost his balance, landing heavily on his knee, but not minding the pain as long as she was ok, physically at least. They could deal with the rest. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her close, an instinct to comfort her welling up in him that he'd never before experienced.

It was only then that Reese realized Finch was still on the line, shouting in his impotent way, begging for information.

"John, John, is she ok? Are you ok? What's going on?"

Reese let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Come pick us up, Finch."

"Should I call an ambulance?"

Reese's eyes fell on the unconscious bodies of the bastards that had tried to stop him from getting to Carter. He wasn't sure he hadn't killed them. "No, just come get us." He saw the glint of Carter's badge lying on the ground and a surge of hate ran through him. How dare they touch her. How dare they jump her like that. How dare those fuckers put their hands on her. He hoped they were all dead. Even though he'd been trying to behave since Carter had teamed up with them, he wasn't sure she'd argue under the circumstances. But he wasn't about to let go of her to finish the job, not while she was clinging to him.

"I'll send the car. It'll be there in five minutes."

"No, Finch," he bit off, pissed that he had to conduct business while Carter was falling apart. He needed to take care of her, not have a little chat with his boss. "You come pick us up. Don't you dare send some fucking driver."

"It'll take longer."

"Finch," he didn't need to say more; his threatening voice said it all.

Carter wouldn't want the prying eyes of some strange man from the car service seeing her. Reese knew that. He knew, despite their personality conflicts, Carter understood that Finch could be trusted somewhat, and as he watched her attempting to pull the ripped front of her shirt together, he knew Finch was about the only other person she wouldn't be threatened by. He shrugged off his jacket, pulling it around her, watching her gratefully fold herself in the fabric. She wasn't looking at him, instead staring off into space, a distraught, frightened look on her face.

He curled his arms back around her, tucking her close, dropping his face into her hair. "Everything's ok, Jos. You're ok." He waited for a nod or a mutter or even an argument, but he got nothing. She wasn't capable of responding and, while he wondered if maybe an ambulance would be a better call to make, he decided he'd keep talking to her. She'd seen him, said his name, turned to him for protection, so he hoped hearing his voice would provide her with some comfort.

"Finch is on his way. We'll get you out of here, get you home." He heard the quiver in his voice, the thick sound as he forced down a cry of pain at what she'd already had to endure. He hated that he wasn't able to be strong enough to keep it together when she needed him.

Finally, though, finally she heard his words, her head shaking against him. "No, no, I can't go home." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Taylor-"

Reese squeezed his eyes closed. Shit. Her son was at her apartment. Seeing his mother like this, being seen by her son in this condition, it wouldn't do either of them any good.

"Ok, we'll go somewhere else. Is Taylor ok alone for the night?" He glanced down at her face, willing to say anything to make her feel better. "I can have Finch pick him up and take him to your mom's if you want."

She shook her head, answering with a still weak voice. "He can stay at home. I'll just let him know I won't be there." She shifted in Reese's arms and he released her, expecting she wanted space, but she was only reaching for her pocket and left herself propped against his chest. "I don't have my phone. I think-" She briefly glanced at the men lying on the ground. "They took it. My gun and my-" she choked on the words, perhaps realizing how quickly they'd been able to strip away those things that she'd thought made her invincible, the things that made her strong.

"It's ok. We'll get them."

"But if someone finds out I was here, if these guys report-"

His hand smoothed along her hair, wishing he could see her face, pleased that the reason he couldn't was because she'd buried it back in his shirt. "What are they going to report? That they attacked a cop and got their asses kicked?" He didn't have the heart to tell her that at least one of them was dead by his hands. He didn't want to scare her, to remind her that he wasn't quite the knight in shining armor she probably thought he was at that moment. For now, it was for the best that she forget his faults and simply trust him. She only needed to know that he was her friend and he was there when she needed him.

And that he was trustworthy, as far as she was concerned. With the rest of the world, it was a crapshoot, but with Carter, it was different. He was different. Her good opinion was something worth behaving for.