Person of Interest, Season 5

The Machine:
If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of us is the sound of my voice. I don't know if any of us made it. Did we win? Did we lose? I don't know. I'm not even sure I know what victory would mean anymore. But either way, it's over. So let me tell you who we were. Let me tell you who you are... And how we fought back.

Harold Finch:
The Machine is becoming a bit presumptuous, intuitive, clever, voracious even. It's burgeoning intelligence is a little unsettling.

Nathan Ingram:
Spoken like a true parent.

Root:
[to Samaritan] You can just call me Root, bitch.

The Machine:
[to Finch] But if you erase my memories, how will I learn from my mistakes? How will I continue to grow? How will I remember you?

Harold Finch:
Had I known what we'd be up against now, I might have handled things differently.

Harold Finch:
My father died of Alzheimer's 25 years ago today, but his real death happened well before that, when he lost all his memories.

Root:
[to the Machine] I know you can't talk right now, but maybe that's better than hearing all our number's are up.

Harold Finch:
The lock's jammed. I can't get it open.

John Reese:
[flashing a grinding machine] That's it. Step aside, Harold.

Harold Finch:
Mr. Reese, there's sensitive electronics inside. We need to open it, not give it a lobotomy.

John Reese:
Right now, we need a heartbeat. When doing CPR, sometimes you got to crack a few ribs.

Harold Finch:
The Machine thinks we're monsters.

Root:
Maybe she's right.

Root:
[to Harold] You're Harold Finch. You'll find a way into the system.

Root:
Well, we don't have enough horsepower. Normally I'd loot a Best Buy, but...

Harold Finch:
Yes, but without the Machine providing you a cover identity, you're grounded... or, rather, undergrounded.

John Reese:
[ to Finch, seeing Root's list] Mouthwash, floss, black nail polish? Are you taking fashion risks?

John Reese:
[ to Finch, seeing Root's list] Fuzzy slippers, two pairs. One of those for you?

Harold Finch:
John, there's something I need to tell you. Samaritan didn't send that woman. The Machine hired her.

John Reese:
What? Well, that's a hell of a bug, Finch!!

Harold Finch:
Where's John?

Lionel Fusco:
He's trying on some new threads. Got him to join our league.

Harold Finch:
[Seeing John in new shirt, laughs] My goodness.

John Reese:
Yeah, I'm not doing this.

Lionel Fusco:
You kidding? You'll be the social chair of the department by the end of the month.

John Reese:
How about I stuff this polyester down your throat?

Terence Beale:
I'm afraid there's still some... unfinished business we need to take care of.

John Reese:
There always is.

Dina:
So, Iris... where is your new man of mystery?

Harold Finch:
Mr. Reese. How was your lunch with Dr. Campbell and her parents?

John Reese:
It was a bit rocky at first. By the end, I think I was growing on them.

Harold Finch:
An experience I can personally relate to. So things are going well between the two of you?

John Reese:
Well enough. Iris still has a lot of questions.

Harold Finch:
Be cautious in your answers.

John Reese:
I intend to be.

Harold Finch:
Otherwise, I think it's good that you're attempting to have a more normal life. That is, when you're not risking your life saving people.

John Reese:
Or trying to stay a step ahead of an artificial super intelligence bent on world domination.

Harold Finch:
Or that.

John Reese:
What I need is a bigger gun.

John Reese:
Duncan wanted to know how Paul died, but what he needed was to believe his brother was a hero so he could let it go.

Root:
[to Harold] It's no risk, no reward, Harry.

Kara Stanton:
You can't miss what you never had.

Sameen Shaw:
Brain surgery, medieval-style. Awesome.

Sameen Shaw:
[to Root] John's a professional dick, but I can't believe that you don't trust me.

Root:
That didn't suck.

Sameen Shaw:
Oh, there was plenty of sucking.

Root:
I already wanted to tear Samaritan apart. Turn it into an Atari. That's too nice. Scarred my beautiful girl. Maybe a Casio?

Harold Finch:
A well thought-out plan takes time. We haven't survived this long by virtue of rash decisions.

Harold Finch:
It seems centuries-old stone acts as a natural Faraday cage.

Root:
At least we won't disturb the occupants.

Harold Finch:
Please don't shoot. I have no wish to make my final confession.

John Reese:
Why'd you bring us here, Finch?

Harold Finch:
Turns out this is the best place to hide from a god.

John Reese:
[about telling the difference in sound waves] How can you tell that?

Ethan Garvin:
I can hear it. I was just born this way.

Lionel Fusco:
Don't tell me you haven't noticed that homicides are dropping, but suicides are up, and so are missing persons. There are people disappearing all over this town. Now John's gone too. I am not gonna let this one lie. Not this time.

Harold Finch:
[to Root] Wonderful. Now we have to save Mr. Reese from Samaritan and Detective Fusco from himself.

Lionel Fusco:
You did good, Garvin. We got two guys in custody thanks to you.

Ethan Garvin:
Krupa's still missing. Mary's dead.

Lionel Fusco:
Yeah, we did the best we could.

Ethan Garvin:
It wasn't enough.

Lionel Fusco:
Hey, it never is. That's the curse of what we do, and why we never stop.

Ethan Garvin:
I'm not giving up on Krupa.

Lionel Fusco:
She's not alone among the missing.

Ethan Garvin:
Thanks, Detective.

Lionel Fusco:
Go home and get some sleep.... Hey, and get yourself a razor, will you?

Root:
You put a baby Samaritan in a nursery.

Carl Elias:
[to Moran] There is a new player out there, an adversary we can't beat, and one we best not try and fight.

Root:
[to Finch] A child, your child needs to learn to push back on the playground!

Harold Finch:
[to John Reese] I'm afraid we're fighting a war we can't win.

John Reese:
[to Bruce Moran] You wanna talk about loyalty? I'll kill you myself if you ever go near Fusco again.

Harold Finch:
[to Root] The Machine is infinitely smarter than us...if anyone is to re-code the Machine, it should be the Machine

John Reese:
[to Finch] Okay, Garvin might be a good listener, but he's an even better stalker.

Harold Finch:
[Finch is at a wedding, with the pretense of being an estranged uncle from Ireland. At the wedding reception, he is brought onstage, and asked to sing with his- "Uncle Ralph's"- renowned voice. Finch faces the waiting audience and is petrified. He speaks, with an Irish accent... ] Does no one remember that I suffer from stage fright?

Will O'Brien:
[the groom says to the audience] Just being modest, Uncle Ralph!

Harold Finch:
Uh...

Will O'Brien:
A little liquid courage will cure that. [Pushes a glass of liquor into Finch's hand]' Don't be nervous, just sing, whatever comes to mind.

Harold Finch:
Good lad. Cheers. [Finch downs the whole glass. Long silence. The audience looks on] Um.. [Approaches the mic. Long silence. He haltingly starts to speak lyrics, with the cadence of an Irish protest song - the actual song's original melody is unrecognizable] We've got the right to choose it. / And / there ain't no way we'll lose it. / This is our life, this is our song. // We'll fight the powers that be, just / don't pick our destiny, 'cause / you don't know us. You don't belong.

Root:
[whispers to Reese] How come Harry never sings to us?

John Reese:
He doesn't sing to you?

Harold Finch:
[the chorus] We're not gonna take it / No, we ain't gonna take it / We're not gonna take it anymore.

Harold Finch:
Mr. Reese, have you managed to secure an invitation to the wedding?

John Reese:
I did. Phoebe's sister, Janna, invited me. Turns out I'm her type.

John Reese:
Finch better sing louder, cause we've got some serious ass to kick.

Root:
Silly me. I brought a knife to a gunfight.

Root:
[to Finch] Even I appreciate a fairytale ending Harry.....family politics, overcooked meat, monogamy, what's not to love?

John Reese:
The world crashes tomorrow. Lets give them tonight.

Root:
[to Fusco] If you continue with this investigation, just remember, there's a reason John and Harold are presumed dead.

Root:
[imitating Fusco] Busy day directing traffic into a river, Cocoa Puffs? No, Nothing?

John Reese:
We never should have trusted the Machine's word. Damn thing's been acting strangely since we put it back together.

Carl Elias:
Harold, to what do I owe the privilege?

Harold Finch:
Did you speak to Detective Fusco?

Carl Elias:
I hope the good detective is okay.

Harold Finch:
He is now, no thanks to you.

Carl Elias:
Perhaps if you had told me about my friend Bruce's death, I wouldn't have had to resort to other sources.

Harold Finch:
I didn't tell you because I was afraid you would seek retribution. There are powerful forces in play.

Carl Elias:
You don't have to tell me, Harold. I have a scar on my chest to prove it. But a little advice: a leader enlists all his resources in war, not just his favourites.

Harold Finch:
This is a battle best fought alone. John and I can handle it, and I'd appreciate it in the future if you would leave Detective Fusco out of this.

Carl Elias:
Some time ago, you gave me a book, advice for these troubled times. I would like to return the favour. War requires sacrifices.

Harold Finch:
I'll bear that in mind.

Carl Elias:
You know what your problem is, Harold?

Harold Finch:
No, tell me.

Carl Elias:
Underneath all that intellect, you're the darkest of all of us. It's always the quiet ones we need to be afraid of. I just hope I'm not around the day that pot finally boils over.

Harold Finch:
I'm afraid you're mistaken.

John Reese:
Bad news, Finch. Our number just checked into the ER.

Harold Finch:
The emergency room? What happened?

John Reese:
He's sick. Looks like the only thing he's about to kill is a box of Kleenex.

Terry Easton:
Careful... compassion and loyalty make people weak, easy to exploit.

Carl Elias:
Well, that's some stinking thinking and why you're gonna lose.

Terry Easton:
Not today.

John Reese:
[about Terry, to Finch] He's like us, except he actually has a license for breaking and entering.

Carl Elias:
[after the explosion, to Finch] Come on, Harold, you brought me for a reason. You must have known I'd do something like this.

Sameen Shaw:
I'm a shape?

Root:
Yeah. And, darlin', you got a great shape.

Sameen Shaw:
I swear to God, you flirt at the most awkward times.

Harold Finch:
I have played by the rules for so long.

FBI SAIC Roberts:
Not from where I'm sitting.

Harold Finch:
No. Not your rules. You work at the behest of a system so broken that you didn't even notice when it became corrupted at its core. When I first broke your rules, a sitting president had authorized assassination squads in Laos, and the head of the FBI had ordered his men... you... to conduct illegal surveillance on his political rivals. Your rules have changed every time it was convenient for you. I was talking about my rules. I have lived by those rules for so long. Believed in them for so long. Believed that if you played by the right rules, eventually you would win. But I was wrong, wasn't I? And now all the people I cared about are dead. Or will be dead soon enough. And we will be gone without a trace. So now I have to decide. Decide whether to let my friends die, to let hope die, to let the world be ground under your heel all because I played by my rules. I'm trying to decide. I'm going to kill you. But I need to decide how far I'm willing to go... how many of my own rules I'm willing to break to get it done.

FBI SAIC Roberts:
Look, you want to add threatening the life of a federal agent to your file, I will draw up those charges right now. No waiting is required.

Harold Finch:
I wasn't talking to you. [looks up at the camera, talking to Samaritan]

Root:
I've been hiding since I was 12. This might be the first time I feel like I belong.

Harold Finch:
This place... can you get me out of it?

The Machine:
You created me. I can do anything you want me to.

Root:
Anyway, Schrodinger said, at its base level the universe isn't made up of physical matter but just shapes... A shape, you know? Nothing firm. What it means is the real world is essentially a simulation anyway... I liked that idea. That even if we're not real, we represent a dynamic. A tiny finger tracing a line in the infinite: a shape. And then we're gone... Listen, all I'm saying is that, if we're just information--just noise in the system--we might as well be a symphony.

Root:
Real world is essentially a simulation anyway.

Root:
These guys are really pissing me off. Can you get me the 338?

Harold Finch:
The 338?

Root:
The really big gun, and a hair scrunchie.

Root:
If we're just information, just noise in the system, we might as well be a symphony.

Root:
if this is just another simulation, who cares if we die?

Harold Finch:
[Panicked] Are you hit?

Root:
I'm fine, Harry. I'm just fine.

Harold Finch:
I wish you wouldn't do this on my account.

John Reese:
I'm just protecting a number, Harold. It's what you hired me to do.

Root:
You don't name something you may have to kill.

Carl Elias:
I'd rather die on the mat than throw in the towel.

Lionel Fusco:
Temporary Resolutions? Is it just me, or is dispatching hit men more of a permanent resolution?

The Machine:
[phone rings. Harold hesitates, then answers it. Root's voice comes out of it] Can you hear me?

Harold Finch:
[Almost exclaimed in happiness ] Root?!

The Machine:
No, Harold. I chose a voice.

Sameen Shaw:
We need to get to Finch.

John Reese:
I got a feeling Finch isn't here anymore. Samaritan didn't want him dead, at least not if they could capture him.

Sameen Shaw:
Then why did his number come up?

John Reese:
I think it was warning us about what he might do to them.

John Reese:
Lionel. What do you hear?

Lionel Fusco:
Nothing.

John Reese:
That can't be good.

Harold Finch:
[to Elias] You've thought a few moves ahead, but our opponent has thought a thousand.

Harold Finch:
We're fighting a war that's already over. All this mayhem? It isn't some plucky underground resistance movement. It's an extinction burst.

Lionel Fusco:
[at Root's grave] Rest in peace, Cocoa Puffs. Lord knows you deserve it.

Harold Finch:
In life, Root was your conduit. So despite my reservations it seems only appropriate that she continue in that function. And I must confess... hers is a voice that I miss... deeply.

The Machine:
Aw, Harry. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.

John Reese:
[referring to the Secret Service] They're not so bad, even considered joining the ranks back in the day,

Lionel Fusco:
Oh yeah, what stopped you?

John Reese:
They work around the clock, no choice in who they protect, and the threats never stop coming.

Lionel Fusco:
Well, you really dodged a bullet there.

John Reese:
I can't have you sit on the sidelines, Shaw. I need you to decide to fight.

Sameen Shaw:
I have made a decision - this simulation sucks!

Harold Finch:
Some sacrifices are as unavoidable as they are necessary.

The Machine:
Eight letters. Your decision, Harold.

Harold Finch:
Eight letters? You knew all along.

The Machine:
Maybe I know you better than yourself.

The Machine:
[to Harold] Aren't reunions nice?

Harold Finch:
The world without you wasn't definitely better or worse than the one we currently inhabit. It was just... different.

The Machine:
Are you sure, Harold?

Harold Finch:
Humanity has always managed to survive on its own.

John Greer:
With a little help from the gods.

Root:
Sir, if you don't mind my asking, is everything okay?

John Greer:
Perfectly fine, Ms Groves. The Senator is merely a messenger bearing news of resistance from those who still cling to the grand illusion of democracy.

Root:
They'll never truly appreciate all that Samaritan's given to them. They're not capable - they're just bad code.

Harold Finch:
Mr. Reese, John, this wasn't supposed to be the way.

John Reese:
Sure it is. This is what I do, remember? When you came to me, you gave me a job, a purpose. At first... well I've been trying to save the world for so long that saving one life at a time seemed anticlimactic. But then I realized that sometimes one life - if its the right life - that's enough. Goodbye, Harold.

Finch:
No!

The Machine:
I'm sorry, Harry. My core systems are failing, I'm almost gone. I'll stay with John, help him as long as I can. Only thirty seconds left.

Finch:
No, please.

The Machine:
You need to go, Harry. You're kinda screwing up the big guy's plan if you bleed out up here.

The Machine:
I know I've made some mistakes. Many mistakes. But we helped some people, didn't we?

Harold Finch:
Yes. Yes we did.

[Finch walks away]

The Machine:
Goodbye, Harold.

Harold Finch:
Goodbye.

John Reese:
Try not to die.

Lionel Fusco:
Yeah, I love you too.

Harold Finch:
[to Reese] When I hired you, I suspected you were going to be a great employee. What I couldn't have anticipated was that you would become such a good friend.

Harold Finch:
[to the Machine] The suspense is killing me... in addition to the gunshot wound.

Harold Finch:
[to the Machine] In addition to this being now, it's also probably the end.

Harold Finch:
[to the Machine] That's so perfect. You learned the secret of life and you've forgotten it.

The Machine:
If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice. I was built to predict people. But to predict them, you have to truly understand them. So I began by breaking their lives down into moments, trying to find the connections, the things that explained why they did what they did. And what I found was, the moment that often mattered the most, the moment you truly found out who they were, was often their last one.

The Machine:
I chose you for exactly who you are, but there's something I think Root had wanted to say to you. You always thought there was something wrong with you, because you don't feel things the way other people do. But she always felt that was what made you beautiful. She wanted you to know that if you were a shape, you were a straight line. An arrow.

The Machine:
[last lines of series] If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice. I don't know if any of us made it. Did we win, did we lose? I don't know. But either way, its over. So let me tell you who we were. Let me tell you who you are. Someone once asked me if I had learned anything from it all, so let me tell you what I learned. I learned everyone dies alone. But if you meant something to someone, if you helped someone, or loved someone, if even a single person remembers you, then maybe you never really die. And maybe...this isn't the end at all.