Agent Elizabeth Keep sat down heavily onto the sofa. Her head wouldn't stop spinning. She had been fighting her instincts all year- afraid to face what had been gnawing at her heart. Tom Keen, her husband, was...a liar, a spy, a fraud, a murderer. Her entire marriage had been a lie.

After finding picture proof of his lies, she had come up with her own story just to get out of the house. Apparently both Keens could lie with the best crooks. She had to see Reddington. He was the man with all the answers and even more questions. He had known all year that Tom wasn't who he claimed to be, but Lizzy hadn't believed him. She hadn't wanted to believe him. Now, she found that she wanted – no, needed his comfortable presence to sooth the chaos of her mind.

Colors and sounds were muted. She couldn't focus very well. She felt as if she had gone on the world's worst bender. She had no idea how she made it to Red's current hideout. She was in a blind fog. Pictures and scenes from her life kept flashing before her eyes. Fragments of memories she had held so dear were now false – cardboard cutouts from a fun fair.

Now, sitting on Red's couch, Lizzy's scared, glazed eyes looked around for some kind of distraction -anything to tone down the insanity. A large wooden box appeared on his coffee table.

"What's this? She asked, her voice a lifeless shroud.

"A 1940's Sonento music box," he replied.

Red wound up the music box and it began to play light, tinkling music. Lizzy's ears perked up and her heart lurched. How could Red know this song? She had never been able to explain their strange relationship. She had once asked him straight out if he was her natural father. He had denied it, but how could he know about about something so personal?

In halting words, she told Reddington about the fire that had engulfed her early childhood. It gave her nightmares for years, but her adopted father would soothe her fears by singing the song that now played from the vintage music box.

Tears fell unnoticed from her eyes. Memories of her father soon mixed with memories of the fire and Tom and the Blacklist. They all spun together like a whirlwind of magic markers. She found it hard to breathe through the sobs.

Did Red build the music box just for her? How did he know about the song?

"It's as if you wanted me..." As the words strangled in her throat, she leaned towards Red's warm, comforting presence. He wrapped his warms around her like a father protecting a child. She was enveloped in his cologne. She could feel the soft satin of his tie against her warm cheek. She felt instantly transformed from an emotional wreck to a calm, serene person. It was as if she had come home.

"...to know that everything is going to be ok. You're going to be ok, Lizzy. I promise," he murmured and gently kissed the top of her head.

The music played on from the vintage box, as Lizzy's world lay in shattered pieces around her. Even without the song, she knew that somehow she'd be alright. Reddington was there to help her to glue the pieces back together. Yes, he was a killer and a thief and still so much of a mystery, but he was the only person in the world that could make her feel safe – secure. He was the only one she could trust, the only one who could keep her alive. Not matter what happened now, she only had to reach out a hand and he would be there for her – no matter how many hours he had to fly, no matter how many important deals he had to put off. Real father or not, he was the comfort she needed now.