AN: My new hiatus fic. Hope you enjoy. Thanks so much for reading! If you have a second to leave a comment, it's always appreciated.

She should have known it couldn't have been this easy.

Everything had gone according to protocol in the beginning, a mission like most, a harmless routine. Until it had stopped.

It had been a trap, a set-up. She hadn't seen it coming and he had been too late. They had captured her, taken her away to a location she couldn't identify. Leverage against him. The cruelest way to cause him harm.

And now she doesn't know what will happen to her.

It's the uncertainty that aches, the solitude. She believes he will find her, it's the only thought she can trust. He will rescue her from these bleak surroundings, this cruel ordeal, save her like he always has, in all the years she's known him.

It's how she perseveres, with the image of him inside her head. She thinks about him over and over and over again.

She thinks about the time he visited her late at night. No advance notice, no explanation. Just him standing in her doorway, nervous, fidgeting, I don't mean to disturb you and you're not, yet something was clearly wrong and she was too scared to ask, not sure how to handle him like this, and she didn't have much to offer, either, just her company and maybe that was enough for him, maybe that was the reason he had stopped by in the first place, maybe it was that simple. Seated next to him on the couch, she had taken his hand then, gently but with intent, her gaze never wavering, asking him to trust her.You have me.

She thinks about the time she kissed him for solace. An impulsive gesture after an exhausting covert operation, a mission that claimed its victims but let him live, it's really just a scratch and never do that again, she isn't one for cliches but god, to endanger himself the way he does to protect her, to shield her from yet another bullet, she's told him so many times to stop but he just doesn't listen. He never listens. And then, out of nowhere, she had pressed her lips against his, leaving him breathless and speechless and please, Red, never do that again.

She thinks about the time he returned to her after months of separation. His figure appearing in a ballroom, a charity gala she was attending for surveillance, every determined step leading him towards her, he's always liked a dramatic entrance, would you like to dance and welcome back, his hand on her back guiding her and the fabric of his tuxedo soft against her skin, she's smiling against his shoulder as he moves closer to her ear. I missed you, Lizzie.

She misses him, too. Can hardly stand it.

It's something to hold on to now, these memories, the knowledge that he must be looking for her. Just a matter of time. A way out of the darkness.

She's still breathing, and that counts for something. She won't go without a fight.

She wants to see him one more time.

She has survived so much.

She will survive this, too.

Someone is saying her name. The sound is distorted, muted, she hasn't fully gained consciousness yet, she just wants to sleep, but the voice is insistent, it's pleading with her, open your eyes, she's so tired, open your eyes, Lizzie, please. She's dreaming again, she knows it, she's had this dream many times in the past few nights and it's painful, the illusion vanishing the moment she forces herself back to reality. She wants it to stop, wants to stop her mind from tricking her into hoping, it's just a voice, it's just a-

Just a hand on her cheek.

Then something warm covering her.

Then a silhouette coming into focus.

He looks exhausted. That's her first thought. She wants to reach out to him, ask him if he's okay, if he gets enough sleep, wants to apologize for making him worry.

It requires effort, even believing that what she's witnessing is real. She feels her body being lifted from the cold, hard ground, his jacket still around her, and she still hasn't fully registered that this is it, this is her escape, her rescue, this is her way home, this is her way back to him.

She's too weak to talk, can do nothing but bury her face in his neck as he carries her away, tries to move closer and closer and wishes she had the strength to hug him to her, Red, she sighs, and he keeps on walking without looking down because he couldn't bear it. He needs to take her away from all this, and then there'll be time. Then there'll be time for recovery and comfort and healing. For a future.

It's been torture, the seemingly endless days of searching for her, his quest for vengeance wreaking havoc and questioning loyalties. When her location was made known to him, he hadn't hesitated a second. His team more skilled than his enemies, his methods more effective. As far as you think I'm willing to go to protect that which I hold most dear, you can't possibly fathom how deep that well of mine truly goes. And then suddenly, finally, merely a door separating them. His breathing unstable, his composure faltering. One pointed shot to break the lock, his heart racing, his mind bracing itself for whatever awaits him.

When he had laid eyes on her body, the pain in his chest had become unbearable.

He can feel her hand grasping his shirt tightly, unwilling to let him leave, and he only breaks the contact for a few seconds, positions her in the backseat, slowly and gingerly, doesn't know if there are injuries he hasn't yet discovered. He sits next to her silently, still can't manage to say what he wants to, I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, I'm sorry I failed you, forgive me, and she's struggling to stay awake, her debility too severe.

"It's okay, Lizzie. It's all over now," he tells her. "Go to sleep."

"Will you be there when I wake up?"

"Yes, Lizzie."

She closes her eyes and sinks down against him.

"I promise."