A/N: First of all, thank you for deciding to read my fanfic! I was in a serious Keenler withdrawal and, well.. this happened. Please leave a review!

PIECES

Summary / [set after 1x22] She was his light in the darkness, his calm after the storm. He was the person who reels her back into reality when she loses the will to live. They were each other's little piece of heaven.

She looked around the small little apartment she had used to call home. She had remembered feeling safe here— wrapped up in her husband's warm, secure arms, sitting on the wooden floorboards and eating Chinese takeout with Tom and Ike, cuddling on the sofa, buried underneath blankets and tucked into Tom's side..

But it had all been a lie.

She angrily wiped away the traitor tears that streamed down her porcelain cheeks with the back of her hand and grabbed her bags, walking away from the place she so badly wanted to forget.

Once she stepped out into the cool autumn air, she slammed the door behind her with a bang! and made long strides towards her car, her heels clicking on the pavement. She willed herself not to look back as she got into her vehicle, started the engine, and drove away.

She didn't know where to go, and it was never her intention to be where she was, but she found herself in the elevator at the blacksite where she had used to work. It was late at night, so, as she expected, she was the only one in the building. Assistant Director Cooper was still hooked up to machines in the hospital, his life hanging by a thread. She turned and made her way to her former office to pick up the box containing the few personal items she'd had on her desk and passed the late Agent Malik's office along the way.

A sudden heaviness embedded itself into her chest, and she found it harder to breathe knowing that Agent Malik had died. And it was because of her. It was because of her that two young children were now left motherless. She stopped and took deep breaths, closing her eyes for a moment before opening the door to her former office and flipping on the light switch. A small cardboard box waited on her desk for her. She strode over and picked it up, ready to leave and get back into her car to drive to who-knows-where when she spotted sloppy writing on the desk adjacent to hers.

One single name was written, repeatedly, over and over again across the whole page. 'Audrey.' She sighed; Ressler was a complete and utter mess. But then again, so was she.

She walked out of the black site and into her car.

Not a half hour later, she pulls up in front of a bar she's never been to and gets out, opening the door to reveal dull, gray walls, dim white LED lights hanging on the ceiling, and low-key music that had a surprisingly fitting sound to the place; the whole thing was rather depressing, actually, but she found that she liked it. The bar was packed with people chattering quietly, but she didn't mind. Liz slid onto a stool and as a bartender came by.

"Single malt scotch. Neat. Keep them coming," she says in a stoic voice, and the man perched on the stool next to her looked over, a surprised look on his otherwise emotionless face. She immediately recognized the pools of ocean blue in his eyes and the strawberry blonde hair that was, as usual, combed back. He still wore the clothes he came to work in, as does she.

"Nice seeing you here, Keen. Didn't think you were one for bars," he said before taking a sip of his whiskey. She noticed his red, bloodshot eyes and deep eye bags. He looked miserable, and they both knew it.

"I'm not," she replied as a sardonic smile made its way onto her lips and she watched the bartender place her drink in front of her. She took a long sip before setting the glass back down. "But I figured I could really use a drink, so here I am. I've got nowhere else to be anyways."

"That makes the both of us."

Hours pass by as the two make small talk, about anything but the elephants in the room. Anything but the s that went down that day, anything but the fact that Audrey had been shot and that she could've possibly been pregnant.

Three hours later, when it's two in the morning, she decides to get up from her stool and places a hand on Ressler's back.

"I think it's time I go call a cab. I've moped around here long enough. I'll see you on Monday, Ressler." She cranes her neck down to take a look at his face when he doesn't respond, and she finds tears streaming silently down his face. "Ress," she says, bringing her fingers out in front of his face and snapping to get his attention.

He blinks and wipes the tears away in haste with the sleeve of his suit jacket. "Right. I guess I should get home too. See you on Monday."

She stands there for a moment with analytical eyes, looking at how absolutely pathetic he looked. How absolutely pathetic they both looked. "Come on." She grabbed his arm and pulled him up off his barstool. "We can share the cab."

"What, do you feel sad for me? Do I really look that bad?" He says with a sarcastic smile on his lips and they pay their tabs and walk out of the bar side by side.

"Don't even get me started."

He opens the door for her as the cab pulls up, and she ducks her head to get in, nearly bumping her head in the process. Ressler gets in after her, shutting the car door after he does so.

For the first few minutes, they sit in companionable silence. She was just about to doze off when she heard his voice, although he was fairly quiet.

"She could've been pregnant." He turns to her, and the two locked eyes. "Audrey, she could've been pregnant." He repeats again, his voice cracking with emotion as his red eyes brimmed over with tears once more. But he refused to let them escape, and she knew the inner struggle he was going through. Part of it, anyways. He turned away, breaking the brief connection, and opted to look out the window at the images of the city passing by them instead.

Her heart ached to see him hurting, especially because she was too. And it was in that moment that she realized that they were the only ones each other had left. The only people who could truly be called friends. In a feeble attempt to comfort him, she reached over and placed her hand on his knee, trying to silently convey the message that she would be here for him whenever he needed her. He stiffened initially at the contact, but gave in to the warm that her hand brought on him and relaxed.

They stayed that way until they reached her hotel ten minutes later, and she removed her hand from his knee. She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, getting ready to leave when his hand shot out at an alarming speed, considering he was drunk. He lets go when she turns back towards him, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

"..Thank you." He says quietly, and she gives a small, grim smile. She didn't even have to ask to understand that he was thanking her for listening to him confess about Audrey and try to offer him a sliver of comfort.

"Any time, Ress. I'm just returning the favor," she replies, referring to the time when she had knocked on his door and told him that she had nowhere else to go.

He was surprised when he suddenly felt a warmth spread over him like a blanket and arms wrap around his chest to his back, a brown head of hair resting on his shoulder. And he realized a second later that Keen was hugging him. Hesitantly at first, he wrapped his arms around her small frame and then tightened, trying to hold on to whatever sense of security he could get.

But sooner than he wanted to, that warm was gone and he watched as the woman got out of the car and walked slowly towards the hotel entrance, brown tresses bouncing as she made her way on over.

And he was left drowning in his dark thoughts and misery once more.

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