The nurse and the rest of the staff all seemed to know who he was without him showing his ID or badge. He was led upstairs to the bedroom and was mildly surprised that Reddington was absent from the room.
The orderly seemed to read his mind. "Mr. Reddington decided to tend to some business when you called to say you wanted to visit. You may stay as long as you like. I took the liberty of putting some bottles of water on the night stand for you. Call if you need anything."
"Thank you." Donald Ressler felt a bit relieved not to see Reddington. He hadn't seen the man for weeks.
"Hey, Liz," he said conversationally as he sat down in the recliner, "it's Donald. Sorry it's taken me so long to come visit. I know it's been a month, but part of me was hoping you'd wake up and I wouldn't have to see you like this. Work has slowed to a crawl due to Reddington's lack of interest. He did finally gave up the names of two Blacklisters whose crimes are horrific, but whose cases will take time to build. Samar's currently undercover in pursuit of evidence. It's like we're toddlers in his sandbox and he's tossed us something to keep us busy while he's occupied with you." He snorted in disgust. "It's ridiculous."
He rubbed his hands across his face. "I'm sorry. I promised I wasn't going to go there…Okay, let's start over. Everyone said to tell you hi when I said I was coming to see you. We miss you, Keen. I miss you." He leaned back in the chair and took in the room; the respirator, the monitors along the walls, the hospital bed in which his partner laid. She looks so small and young! That damned Reddington! This is all his fault! Ever since he came into her life, our lives, everything's changed! It's like we work for him now!
"Except that's not quite true," he said aloud. He took Liz' hand in his and said, "I know you don't know what I'm talking about, Partner. I got myself into trouble, bad trouble, and I don't know what to do about it." He looked behind him at the door, checking to see if anyone was within earshot. When he saw no one was there, he turned back and leaned in closely and said softly, "I'm being blackmailed. That's the first time I've said that out loud. I'm being blackmailed by that bastard Henry Prescott. Me, By the Book Ressler. I made a mistake and then compounded it by accepting 'help' from him and now, if I don't do what he wants when he wants it, he's going to ruin me. Imagine that, Mr. Follow the Rules might end up in jail. If you were awake, we could talk about it and you might have an idea to help me. But with you in this coma, I can only come up with one solution and I refuse, I absolutely refuse to get help from Raymond Reddington."
"Help with what?"
Startled, Donald dropped Liz' hand as he jumped out of the chair and whipped around to see Raymond Reddington standing in the doorway with Dembe Zuma right behind him. Embarrassed and angry he snarled, "How long were you standing there?"
"Only long enough to hear you tell Lizzie you don't want my help. Care to share?"
"No, I don't. I've gotta go. I'll be back next week. Excuse me." And with that, he moved past the two men and went down the stairs and out the door.
Red and Dembe exchanged glances and shrugged. "Do you think he will ask you for help with whatever it is that is bothering him?"
Red removed his hat and coat. "I don't care. If he does, well, we'll see."