Chapter Text
Every pay phone they pass, he expects to ring.
He has to remind himself each time that they're not going to ring, that they won't ring as long as the Machine is offline and hypercompressed into the briefcase he's carrying, but five years of noticing and anticipating the phones is a difficult habit to break. And each time he pauses, each time he remembers, each time Reese urges him to keep moving, he feels the loss even more.
And now, he's acutely aware that their time is running out... that even as they're fighting to stay one step ahead of the Samaritan operatives pursuing them, the Machine is slowing dying in his hands... that there's a very good possibility that he may never hear those phones ring again.
The thought is both sobering and terrifying.
He pauses again, this time to catch his breath, and steals a glance at the indicator light on the briefcase. He can't let it happen. He can't let Samaritan win.
He can't let Her die.