Just something inspired by a dream I had not too long ago...
I think the term to describe the relationship I am writing about is Lizzington? Also this is AU so bear with me ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist or any of its characters.
A Prologue of sorts...
It was the screams that woke her. Loud groans of excruciating pain. It didn't take her long to realize who did those screams belong to. She yanked off her covers and made a mad bolt towards the door only to be engulfed in smoke once she opened it. There was no way for her to see through any of it but she was trained to know all the possible exits in case of a situation. A fire seemed like a situation. She ran down the hall, the direction opposite of the screams, and made it to the back stairwell. There were flames coming up the walls and she couldn't stop herself in time from grabbing the hand rail. The searing pain shot up her arm in a matter of a second and she cradled her burned wrist in her other hand.
She turned to run down another hall, this one with far less smoke seeping through it. She ran faster ignoring the screams that somehow seemed to get louder and turned another corner. The safe house her father had chosen to stay in this week was vast and lonely but tonight it felt alive. She kept running until she reached the front stairwell and seeing it was empty of any smoke or flames she flew down the stairs. Her moment of victory and the taste of freedom only died down when the front door wouldn't open for her. She tried the window next to it and it seemed it was bolted shut. The screams had stopped once she realized she couldn't get out but she continued trying to escape.
Pure panic and adrenaline fueled her thoughts and once her eyes fell on the lamp in the hall she ran to it. With out hesitation she pick it up and smashed it through the window. Already then the fresh air that seemed like it was being sucked inside was of momentary relief to her burning lungs and tearing eyes. She got rid of any glass that hung to the edges and threw the lamp to the side. She braced herself and jumped through leaving behind the flames that seemed to still want to make a mad grab of her legs.
The ground was a cool relief to the sweltering heat inside and she lay on her back just staring at the house coming in flames. Only one other person was staying with her. He was most likely dead. The relief that surged through her veins was toxic. It overcame her previous relief of escaping the fire. Living with the man she had been forced to call father was by far worse than burning alive.
She crawled back a few more feet safely escaping any more damage that the fire could do and just lay back panting. It could have been the shock of freedom or the adrenaline of deaths grasp that had her breathing erratically but she didn't care. Not until her vision started getting foggy and she realized she was going to pass out. For the first time in her life, she let herself drift off into a peaceful sleep. Her last seconds of mere consciousness only registering a pair of legs making their way to her. The last words she would hear resounded in echoes as she closed her eyes.
"Dembe, take her."