A/N: Still on hiatus but the premiere gave me a lot of feelings, so here they all are.

Drabble'ish insight into Ressler's headspace.

Title modified from Florence + the Machine's "Various Storms and Saints".

Disclaimer: What you recognize is not mine.

When Ressler stares into Keen's eyes through the fence separating her from him, through the invisible line of jurisdiction and statehood, he wants to say so many things.

He wants to ask her if it was worth it, pulling that trigger.

He wants to sneer at her, make a condescending remark about being on the top of her game and falling to the ground like an angel whose wings had been cut, who had defied their maker.

He wants to yell at her for being so stupid, so irresponsible, so careless.

He wants to plead with her to not do this, to give up, surrender willingly and trust him to do the right thing.

(He doesn't consider how he already asked her once and she blatantly disregarded everything.)

But most surprisingly, most strongly, he wants to take her with him and not let the world catch up to them, consequences be damned.

So he doesn't say anything, merely clenches his jaw and listens to her say she is a Russian agent, call herself by a name she has never used.

But he wants to say You are not Masha Rostova, you never have been. You are Liz Keen and I know you.

Except he doesn't.

Nex to him, Samar says something in Russian, angry and commanding and in control, and repeats it in English – for his benefit or Liz's.

"She is a US citizen and you don't have jurisdiction."

The guard glances at her in a completely disinterested manner and shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't make the rules."

He turns Liz around, not cuffing her but also not releasing her hands and escorts her towards the embassy.

With every step they take, Ressler can feel the divide between him and her widening.

She is walking away from them, voluntarily, head held up, letting herself be captured by the Russians like she has a plan, like she has any idea what she is doing.

Given what Reddington told him over the phone, Ressler doubts this was his plan; it feels too rushed, too impulsive for him, so it must be a last effort from her part.

There is something to be said about the fact that she trusts the government of a, if not hostile, then at least not friendly, country, to be more safe than getting captured by the FBI.

And Ressler knows, of course he knows, that she is not a spy, she isn't working for the Russians. This is his instinct, his gut, his private mantra.

He also knows that he is an FBI agent who has procedures to comply with and rules to follow, and orders he cannot ignore.

He doesn't yet know how to settle the two sides of himself, how to be in charge but also sleep well at night, how to uphold justice but also bring justice for her as well.

Reddington told him to act regardless of what he knows about her, or what he feels about her.

He knows that Liz Keen is was his partner and yet she is wanted by the FBI.

He knows that she would never betray her country and yet she did.

He feels angry and ashamed and hurt.

This is not a surprise.

But when he remembers the look in her eyes as she defied him, as she had just run from him, he feels like he is drowning and there is no ground beneath his feet, like the shore is too far away to see, like he's never even learned to swim.

He feels like if he takes another step towards her, something inside of him will give and tear, and destroy.

But something would also mend and heal and be complete.

He doesn't know what to do about any of it.