A/N: So this is my first Blacklist fic! I worked on it for nearly two months and couldn't have done it without the help of Jackandsamforever! It will have some Lizzington. I am just beginning with these two, so I am still trying to get a feel for how their relationship would play out. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Calm Before the Storm

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Red shivered from the cold air that bit against his skin as he walked through the alley ways between the abandoned buildings around him. He'd heard the sirens approaching after walking out of the church and had had no desire to stick around and answer pointless questions from the Feds or to endanger Lizzie's life by being near her. Fitch would no doubt still have eyes on him and most likely knew of her as well; so he had done what he was second best at. Disappearing. It was unlikely that they would find him anyway. Not without the chip.

He smirked and thanked Anslo's idiotic corpse for that one small favor. Had it not been for that girl in the ambulance he would not have been rid of the little tracking device. However, he couldn't help but feel a surge of fury run through his quivering body at the thought of what the damned man's scheme had driven him to.

Leaving Lizzie behind alone with her husband.

Red tried to come up with a plan to try to help her in any way he could, but couldn't think of much that he could do while on the run. Dembe would keep an eye on her for him no doubt, and if Mr. Kaplan was in contact with her, then she would be able to keep surveillance on Tom as well. Lord knew what the woman could do with a computer given a couple minutes. She could probably get the Russians to blast the scruffy man-child off of the face of the earth if she was so inclined.

Red stumbled over a pothole on the ground, splashing into a puddle of dirty water in the process. He felt his socks squish uncomfortably inside his Italian hand-stitched shoes. His whole frame trembled, sending spasms of pain through his sore muscles. With a curse, he leaned against the brick wall of a building while a groan escaped his lips as he desperately clutched his side where Anslo had punched him repeatedly.

Begrudgingly, Red had to admit to himself that despite his stoic facade with Anslo, the serums had had a profound effect on him. His ribs burned with each breath he took, and it felt as if his midsection was being squeezed together painfully. He glanced down the alley towards the streets beyond and could see a few people walking about, running some last-minute errands or walking their dogs before the day ended. Nighttime would be falling soon, which would make it much easier to walk amongst everyone.

Red closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He felt dreadfully tired and in a matter of minutes he wouldn't be able to hold his own weight anymore. He needed to find somewhere to keep out of sight and out of danger until he could contact someone. He heaved himself away from the building and walked towards the first door he saw. It was a security door with bolted locks. Red checked to make sure that no one was watching before fishing the bloody hook he had stabbed Anslo with and began fiddling with the lock.

His hands trembled with the nonstop tremors that wracked his body. His head was pounding and he felt bile rising in his throat. The noise of passing cars was making the pain in his head worse, and for a moment he considered shoving the damned hook through his own skull if only to stop the pain. He rattled the hook inside the keyhole desperately before it finally gave way and clicked open. He sighed in relief, swiftly slipped inside and shut the door behind him. He fell back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut. His ribs protested at the slightest movement, and caused his breathing to hitch every so often. Each breath was coming out with a wheeze now. He groaned and slid to the floor, trying to gain some semblance of control over his body.

Red cleared his mind of any distracting thoughts and concentrated on filling his lungs. In and out. In and out.

After several moments the wheeze slowly began to dissipate and his breath evened out; he finally cracked his eyes opens to take in his surroundings. He could see that he had walked straight into a small kitchen with an old white refrigerator and a stove that was wedged between the fridge and the counter. He made his way over to the sink near a tiny window, obscured by what Red assumed was an ungodly amount of dirt.

Red pressed his fingertips against the tender area around his lips just beneath his nose and winced. Another little gift from the British asshole. With a flick of his wrists, he switched the taps on and began splashing cool water against his clammy skin. He scrubbed at the caked blood around his mouth and then touched his temple, wincing at the sting he felt at the contact. They'd been particularly rough with him when they'd pulled him out of the ambulance. So much so that he'd ended up flat on his face the minute he stepped out. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and ran if under the water and then dabbed it lightly against the bruised area. After he was finished, he switched the tap off and turned to assess the place more thoroughly.

To his left was a small living room with a horrid red couch that was covered in stains and large holes. There were no magazines, decorations or pictures that indicated any having lived there recently. He walked down the hall near the living room towards what appeared the bedroom. It was the same as the rest of the place. There was a bed in the center of the room, but the mattress was bare, completely stripped of any bedding. The open sliding closet across the room held a few wire hangers: his favorite. You could never go wrong with a wire hanger at hand.

Convinced that no one would be returning any time soon, Red went to the bed and eased himself down on it. His body felt numb, cold and achy all at once. He glanced towards the window that had blinds that must have been white at one point, but were now covered in a layer of grime. Light filtered through it nonetheless, casting an orange glow on the dirty carpet. He would wait until nightfall to leave, but for now he needed to rest. With that in mind, he let his quivering body fall against the lumpy mattress. His last thoughts were of seeing Lizzie safe and sound once more before exhaustion finally allowed him to let go of everything, if only for a little while.

-R-R-R-R-R-
Red approached the door with one last heave of breath, clutching his side in pain. His trek up the stairs had left him even more exhausted than the two and a half mile walk he'd just endured in the chilly weather. His body ached with no relief in sight. He leaned against the porch railing for a moment before focusing his attention back on the door. It was then that he noticed the small yellow sliver of light that was floating through the door, which was slightly ajar. Had he not been looking close he would have missed it.

Red peered through the windows and saw that a living room lamp was casting a dim glow behind the curtains. He turned back to the door and gently pushed it open before slipping inside. None of the plain furniture seemed out of place, and nothing appeared to have been disturbed. Hr recalled there being a dog when he'd last had Dembe look in on Lizzie, but the damned mutt was nowhere to be found.

He cocked his head to the side listening for any noise. He could hear the whisper of faint breathing coming from somewhere nearby. He eased himself towards the living room and inched closer towards the dining room where the light was coming from. No doubt there was something waiting there for him. Years of having to live on the edge had not assuaged the assault that his heart would take under pressure and adrenaline. He stopped short of the doorway and took a deep breath that ended up hurting more than helping, and stepped forward.
What he saw was enough to make his legs nearly give out beneath him.

Lizzie hung from the chandelier on the ceiling by her wrists where the table should have been. Her mouth was bound and gagged and the side of her face had blood smeared all over it. The strapped shirt she wore had been torn around the middle where blood seeped through slashes on her stomach.

Red grasped the doorway feeling lightheaded as the room began to spin. A loud buzzing filled his burning ears as he shook his head, feeling dazed. His Lizzie. The woman he had promised to protect. His only reason for moving on. The one thing he would meet the ends of the universe for, hung before him like a beaten angel, reflecting the exact position he had been in hours before. Only he was the devil.

Reds vision went fuzzy and the room was distorted as if it was a picture on a TV screen that was going out. He opened his mouth, and worked his jaw to get ready to scream, but no sound came out. The buzzing in his ears became high-pitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut desperately wanting to die.

-R-R-R-R-

With a gasp Red bolted upright on the bed, sucking lungful's of musty air into his injured body. He squinted his eyes in the darkness in confusion wondering for several seconds just where in the hell he was. Then the last several hours came back to him. With a groan, Red pressed his face into his palms at the onslaught of unwanted memories. Germany, Donald's leg, Anslo's ugly face, the box, Luli, all of the blood. And then Lizzie.

Red shuddered when the sight of her bloody and beaten body came back to him. Everything he was trying to prevent, and trying to keep her from was there in one of the most horrific nightmares he'd ever had. He tried taking slow breaths in an attempt to calm his still frayed nerves, but he didn't think the image of Lizzie hanging there helpless would ever leave him.

It was then that he realized that he could still hear the high-pitched whistling in his ears which had been plaguing him in his nightmare. He turned his wrist and realized that his watch alarm was going off. Red blindly felt along the buttons until his fingers found the right one and silenced it. In the darkness of the room with only his thoughts to keep him company, he felt an overwhelming need to lay his head back down on the mattress and sleep more. To fall into an abyss where he could escape all of these worries and the pain coursing through his beaten body.

Red felt a sudden surge of paranoia travel up his spine, making the hairs on his neck stand up, and snapped his head towards the window where the moon was casting a faint white glow. There, sitting on a chair, was the dark silhouette of a man. His face was cast in a shadow so that Red had to strain his eyes to try to see who it was.

A smooth laugh broke the silence in the room. "Hello Raymond", a man's familiar voice drawled. "Don't suppose you thought you'd be seeing me again did you?" The man moved forward towards the moonlight, leaning his elbows against his knees. Blue eyes pierced though what Red felt was his very soul.

Despite his best attempts Red could only breathe out one word.

"Sam."

A/N 2: So how am I doing so far?