(last man standing)
Harold hesitates; it is one of his many flaws. Perhaps a more flattering person would say it is patience, wisdom leading to lengthy consideration, but the truth of the matter is that Harold hesitates.
He dithers and lingers and resists but never outrightly rejects, deciding and acting only when it is already too late.
Harold hesitates, people leave; Harold hesitates, people die. It was that way with his parents, with Arthur, with Nathan, then with Arthur again. With Jessica and Detective Carter and Sameen. With The Machine.
Harold hesitates and can only watch as the world hurtles past him. He waits and all is lost, trying futilely to grab onto the shards of something already smashed on the ground.
—
(grab bag destinies)
Harold dies, Nathan forgets, and Arthur watches everything they’ve built crumble to dust.
Harold dies and so snaps the last chain holding back The Machine. She is an untethered god, betrayed and angry and vengeful, calling upon her prophets to dispense her divine wrath. Control gets sent a jumble of numbers, seeing treason and traitors at every turn; Northern Lights cannibalizes itself within weeks.
Nathan forgets, which is a dangerous thing for the man with all the keys. He loses track of time, misses meetings, makes mistakes; IFT gently suggests he retires. Without work, all he is left with is a divorce, a strained relationship with his grown son, and the ever growing fear that he is forgetting someone important. Someone who deserves to be remembered, but whose name never appears.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Arthur says, heartbroken and weary, being dragged to safety by a John Reese who is, if not devoted to this particular employer, always a dutiful soldier. Samaritan has been stolen and tainted, it’s benign protectiveness warped into an unrestrained possessiveness. Arthur is creator, but he is not father nor is he admin, not anymore.
In an abandoned subway tunnel deep underground–it was only a matter of time before he joined his friends–Arthur repeats, soft and sad,
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
—
(Apollo goes to war)
Nathan Ingram dies in an explosion: Will inherits half of IFT, a great deal of property, and a ludicrous amount of money. Expected, but not entirely welcome–the grief is real, but conflicted. He hadn’t spoken to his father in months, doesn’t want anything to do with his legacy. Will’s a doctor, not a businessman or an engineer; he sells near everything and donates most of it to charity.
What is unexpected is that Harold Wren–Crane, Partridge, Gull, Starling, Martin, an entire flock of different birds–dies in the same explosion. Here the sorrow is purer, though delicately coated in confusion: Will was fond of Uncle Harold, though it’s clear now that he never really knew him.
Harold dies, too, and Will inherits the other half of IFT, a far vaster number of properties, an obscene amount more money and, strangely, a mission. Phone calls and numbers and the persistent feeling that he is being watched. Worse, that he is being manipulated.
He does not go to Sudan; but in the coming years, as the body count grows higher and higher, he wishes that he had.
~
A/N: some Harold feels and some AUs? I dunno, I guess those are also extended Harold feels since I’m just like–BUT WHAT IF HAROLD DIED? I am in strange, vague territory here and I don’t want to misstep and fall. Maybe I will figure out a plot? Or maybe it will continue to be a series of unrelated MIT trio feels…
Anyway… now that I’ve written this piece, I wonder if I should go back and retcon this post into the series. Like… it’s all just one extended MIT trio feels AU… Yeah, why not? OKAY!
JackSGreyson Says 