An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He is with her, when the call comes. Of course he is. The news should come from him, he supposes. The shake of his head, the way his pinched expression and soft eyes try to say—I'm sorry. He never was very good at words, but then again, neither is she. He watches her gaze go vacant as she absorbs what he hasn't said, but that her body knows. It is a grief he doesn't quite feel, but one he can understand. But he is with her when it comes. Somehow, that has to be enough. Snapshots in grief.
hi hello, i've returned to my angsty person of interest roots. (heh) this is literally just a john-centric character study of his relationship with shaw (and, by extension, root) with a dash of rinch and a fuckload of grief. enjoy!
















