A/N: Cannot take credit for all of this story. Someone on another site asked for a story about Liz dealing with Red after a nightmare. With that running around my brain on a flight back from London (because I can spend only so many hours focusing on work), my iPhone played the 10 Years song Waking Up the Ghost, and this story is the end product.
No one knows the secrets that I keep
No one knows what's in my head
Can't control the other side of me
I have lost my grip
Breaking the pulse of a steady beat
Pleading for sanity
The voices calling out my name
Now I am afraid
That I am waking up the ghost
I'm digging up the memories
That were dead me
Now now I'm getting close
Closer to the enemy that's inside of me
-10 Years
Sleep had been illusive the night before and the morning hours came way too soon for her liking. Each time she had tried to close her eyes, all she could see was him kneeling with a gun to his head, ready to die. It had been that way for a week now, and she no longer knew if he actually said her name, or she her memory added it the scene played over and over like a broken strip of film. However, tonight after multiple stressful days, and very little sleep over the past couple of weeks she found bliss finally in a dreamless sleep.
However, her bliss was interrupted suddenly by the sound of someone else in the room. Before she had her eyes open she had her gun in her hand aimed in the direction the noise had come from. Sitting up in her bed she was ready to fight whoever broke into her hotel room. Her finger was on the trigger when she saw him in the light that came through the window from the streetlight.
"What the hell are you doing Red?" She snapped more because of the adrenaline that was still coursing through her veins.
"Watching you sleep." Was his answer not moving from the chair. His hat sat on the dresser next to him. He looked at ease, even after having a gun pointed at him for the second time in less than 48 hours. "Could you lower your gun, we don't want an accident. Would be a bit difficult to explain to Cooper how I was shot in your hotel room."
Liz lowered her gun she noticed something was off in Red's voice, but was not quite sure what, "Why are you watching me sleep?"
"I once spent a month in China with a Japanese family." Red began to speak in his usual boisterous voice, but something was off maybe the cadence.
Liz sighed another story from him that would result in a half answer, but she was intrigued by the anomaly she noticed in his speech.
Despite Liz's passive aggressive protest Red continued with the story, "The little boy would tell me of Japanese folklores to practice his English. He told me one of the most fascinating tales about a creature named Nue. Nue had the paws of a tiger, but the face of a monkey, a long venomous tail, and the body of a tanuki, which is like a raccoon. Hideous looking thing. But the way the creature looked was not what made it truly frightening. Nue took on the form of a block cloud and infected a Japanese Emperor so that each time he closed his eyes he would have the most horrible nightmares. The poor Emperor could not sleep and became ill. It was not until a Samurai shot the black cloud and killed the Nue that the Emperor started to get better. Fascinating how every culture seems to have some mythical creature that brings about nightmares. For the Germans it was Mara, who often took the form of a beautiful woman who would constrict the air supply of men and turn their dreams into nightmares. The Greeks wrote about Phobetor who was a wing demon who was also shape shifter and a son of Darkness. His children where the creatures of nightmares. We have developed the boogey man who hides under beds and inside closets. My own daughter had been terrified of the boogey man for many years, so much I spent many of nights sitting up in her room to keep the boogey man away. Much like my daughter, he was terrified of the Nue. I spent many nights watching out for the Nue so the little boy would rest."
"Interesting lesson on the different mythical archetypes that bring about nightmares." Liz stated annoyed at Red, "But that still does not explain why you are here."
"You looked exhausted today Lizzie." Red said, "I wanted to make sure you were able to rest tonight undisturbed. We have a big day tomorrow."
"So you disturbed me to make sure I was resting?" Liz said trying to point out the absurdity in Red's statements.
"I had no intention of waking you."
"Red why are you really here?" Liz asked now sitting on the edge of her bed. "I know it is not to make sure the Nue or the Boogey man or whoever does not bring me nightmares. I have a gun I'll shoot them like I almost shot you."
"I see that you do not need me to keep the Nue away. I will take my leave." Red stood up, saying on his feet. He had to use the dresser to stabilize himself.
"Are you drunk?" Liz asked noticing how unsteady Red was on his feet. She could not think of a single time she had seen Red drunk. However, the unusual cadence in his speech, and the general weirdness of the night could easily be explained by him being drunk.
"I may have had a few drinks earlier." Red said walking towards the door to take his leave. His hope of finding comfort ruined with Liz's having kicked him out. He had not meant to drink as much he had earlier, it just sort of happened. Rare, yes, but with Dembe away there was no one to talk to. No one to keep him awake and entertained. So he drank, and drank another, until he found himself getting tired, and than he knew he had to leave the safety of the house he was staying in and seek out comfort from someone else.
Liz moved quickly stopping him from walking out the door by getting in his way. She flipped the light switch behind her so they were no longer standing in the dark room. It was in the light that she saw how exhausted Red looked. His eyes were bloodshot, and his clothes were wrinkled, and all together he looked like a disheveled mess. He had looked better after almost being blown to pieces at the factory. He smelt like a brewery, she thought she had smelt alcohol on him earlier that day when he was at the post office, but said nothing about it to him.
"When was the last time you slept?" Liz asked him putting hands on his shoulders to steady him because he was swaying on his feet without using the wall to support him.
Red started to try to avoid the question by asking Lizze "When was the last time…"
But she stopped him but saying, "Red, you look like hell. Where is Dembe?" Liz knew she would need help to get Red home tonight. Maybe she could convince Dembe to slip Red a sleeping pill or something, anything to knock the man out who looked like death warmed over.
"Away on business." Red said not quite making eye contact with Liz.
"Than how did you get here?" Liz asked her hand moving down his arm in a comforting manner.
"I walked." He laughed because it was more of a stumble, a taxi, which he vomited in, and was kicked out of, and than he stumbled the rest of the way. It amazed him he was able to break into Lizzes hotel room and not wake her.
Liz sighed, he was in no condition to walk home and she was not going to kick him out tonight without knowing someone else would be with him. Something was just off, he was not the usual Red. "Is there anyone else I can call?"
"No. I'm fine." Red said almost toppling over as he felt like the entire room was spinning around him. It was the combination of one too many scotches and multiple sleepless nights.
It was Red's exhausted voice and desperate look in his eyes that caused Liz to have a epiphany, "You didn't come here to protect me from the Nue or the Boogey Man." Liz said realizing Red avoiding making eye contact with her now. "You came her so I would protect you from them."
Red said nothing, but she had been right. He needed comfort tonight, to keep the demons at bay that would haunt his dreams. The same demons that kept him up each night. He had not known why this near death experience had bothered him so much. In his line of work, the life he lived, it was expected that he would one day die a violent death. Men like him do not die of old age, they die a violent painful lonely death. It was the death that men like him deserved too. He had no reservations about the creature he had become, more frightening that the Nue or the Boogey man.
However his near death experience was different this time because of her. After his family he had little left he cared about and therefore the thin barrier between life and death did not matter. However, he had found a purpose in making sure she was taken care of, ensuring that she got what she wanted and than some, and the entire mission of redemption. She truly was his second chance to make things right. Than there was just her. Sometimes he was not sure which mattered more her or the mission for redemption.
His connection with her had started out simple enough, finding her a safe place, since he had failed her father. Than it turned into ensuring that she got what she wanted, her education, her career, and eventually her job at the FBI. He watched from a safe distance, like a twisted guardian angle. The problem was that despite the distance he found himself caring for her, more and more as time continued on. When he finally made contact he had realized that the woman he had heard about was much more than he expected. It was a pleasant surprise because she was so much better than he had been lead to believe.
The pen she had jammed into his artery should have been all the warning he needed, at the danger she presented to him. Instead, it intrigued him more, as this was something entirely unexpected. He had been honestly surprised when the pen entered his neck, and she threaten to let him die. It was the furthest thing from his mind, thinking her completely incapable of it. Now he knew better. It was that moment, though, that started him on a path he found himself on now. It was in that moment and each moment after that she stopped simply being his penance and something much more, she became his reason to wake up in the morning and his reason to be something more. He felt a calm overtake him around her, the same calm he had felt as a child. He carved that peaceful feeling.
Though when she had finally realized how damage he was, he was afraid of losing her because she finally saw a bit of the real him. She saw that he was not invincible and that he was very much human. Anyone could see that he was not a good man, that he had some issues, but few would know the depth of his damage. The suits, the happy go lucky façade, and the stories were all his armor that he employed as misdirection. He was a master of his own design, and most people only saw what he wanted them to see. Lizze had managed to see past, the only other people who had been able to see through were Dembe and Mister Kaplan.
It was the idea that despite being damage, she still seemed to care about him, and the peaceful feeling he got around her that made him seek her out tonight. He wanted to sleep, but he knew the demons would come, and there were no samuri's to slay the Nue tonight for him. What form the Nue would take, his father, the many people he killed, his own death, or worse of all someone killing or torturing her it would not matter. It would come and torment him.
Liz was not sure what to do with the man before her. Part of her wanted to send him away, but she meant it when she said she cared. That part of her could never send him away. She saw the vulnerability in him tonight and it was that vulnerability would not allow her to just toss him to the curb.
"Red you need to sleep." She said gently grabbing his arm.
It surprised them both when he stated like a petulant child, "I'm not tired." Though they both knew it was a lie, he was dead on his feet.
"Come on." She said leading him towards the bed, "It's fine I'll protect you from the Mara."
"How do you know you are not the Mara?" Red asked trying to cover his vulnerability quickly, but they both knew what he was doing and it did not work.
"Than I promise not to suck your breath away." She said.
She got him to the bed and had him sit down. Kneeling down in front of him she started to untie his shoes.
Red thought about making a crude statement about her current position and what she could do, but he knew it would earn him nothing. It was too late, in his drunken exhausted stupor she saw through his defense mechanisms. The comment would only serve as a further revelation or more questions he would answer because he was too exhausted to mount a proper defense against her beautiful quizzical eyes tonight.
Once she got his shoes off, she said, "Come on take the vest and shirt off. So you can at least be comfortable." She did what she could to help him when he struggled to pull his top shirt off, his undershirt covered the important bits. Once he was down to his trousers, socks, and under shirt she pulled his feet up to the bed. Pulling the covers over him, she said, "Get some rest."
"What about you Lizze." Red said starting to sit up, but Liz pushed his chest so he was pushed back down to the bed.
"The bed is big enough for both of us." She said eyeing the King size bed, she hoped it was big enough for both of them. It was concerning to have Red in her bed, but there was nothing else she could do. She very well could not kick him out, and she was too tired herself to try to sleep on the chair, and the floor was disgusting. Before she got back into bed she flipped the light off. Grabbing an extra pillow from the floor, she put it between them to make her feel like there was a barrier between them.
She watched Red in the illumination from the street lamp outside. He reminder her of when she was younger. When Sam would tell her it was time to sleep, she would fight her sleep. She watched him for what seemed like a long time, as he would slowly drift off to sleep, and than jerk himself awake when he realized he had fallen asleep. It was sometime later that he lost that battle.
It was in the illumination of the street lamp that she realized that she cared deeply for the Concierge of Crime. Not sure if she loved him like she thought she loved Tom, or if she loved him like she had loved Sam. Either way, she watched him as he softly snored, his chest rising and falling, his face relaxed at the moment. It was weird to not see him moving, she had seen him sit still, but this was different. Unlike some people, she realized, he did not look completely peaceful in his sleep. He somehow looked older, worn, as he slept.
While she watched him she started to realize how much she mattered to him. He allowed himself to be vulnerable around her. Maybe he was not of his full capacity tonight because he was drunk, but he still sought her out in his less than stable state. She found the new vulnerable version of him unnerving. She was rubbing her scar absentmindedly. The questions about him, and why he suddenly decided to seek her out and let her seem him like this swirled around her head until she finally lost her own battle with consciousness.
