*Edited to change rating from M to T. Also, considering writing a second chapter?
Author's note: I was struck recently with the urge to write a Blacklist fanfic, and decided to go back in time to Anslo Garrick. As wonderful as the 2-part Anslo Garrick episodes were, I was moderately (more like vastly) disappointed when Liz was able to escape (being the hurt-comfort lover that I am) so I decided to write a short fanfic where things went the way I wanted. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Blacklist or any of its characters.
The ambulance pulled into a garage about a half hour after it left the blacksite. With bags over their heads, Liz and Reddington were blindly escorted through the building until eventually, they came to a stop and the bags were ripped off.
"Get another set of restraints," Garrick ordered over his shoulder as two of his men clasped Red's hands over his head in the wall-mounted metal irons, his back to the wall. His feet were similarly restrained at the end of a short chain. Garrick guided Liz to the wall directly opposite Reddington and waited until a man came back with identical restraints, screws, and an electric drill. The metal bracelets were drilled into the wall about a foot above Keen's height, the chain at foot level, and Garrick snapped her hands and ankles into place.
Anslo gestured over his shoulder for his entourage to leave, and he reached up to stroke Liz's cheek as the door clanged shut behind them. His hand came to rest around her throat, his thumb caressing the smooth skin.
It happened so casually that it took her a moment to realize what was happening. The pressure on her throat increased, Garrick's grip becoming more forceful. Her eyes widened in shock as it constricted her windpipe. He watched her calmly, watched as her grimace grew, her panic set in. She could hear Reddington's voice over the pounding in her head, calling Garrick's name and hers. He was trying to mask desperation.
"Anslo, listen to me. You want me. She means nothing to you."
Her mouth formed silent protests to no avail and her heels scraped the wall behind her. His hold was just enough to hurt, to disorient, but not yet enough to knock her out. Garrick's eyes were still fixed on her as if he took pleasure in watching her succumb to his control.
"No, but she means something to you," Garrick's calm voice replied without shifting his attention.
The pressure increased, only slightly. She couldn't fight back; her arms strained against her restraints, the metal digging into the flesh of her wrists, and her feet were too closely restrained to the wall to be any help at the off-center angle he was standing in. She tried to wrench her head away from him, but there was nowhere to go.
She could just barely make out Red across from her, over Garrick's shoulder; her vision was shrinking to tiny pinpricks and she tried desperately to hold on to him—to hold on to the world. His mouth was moving, his voice growing more panicked, becoming a shout. She couldn't make out the words anymore. She didn't have much time left. Just a little more pressure, a little while longer…
She gasped awake, descending into a fit of coughing as her raw throat sucked in air. Her arms were on fire from hanging limply in the restraints. Her feet found the ground and she leaned heavily against the wall at her back, still coughing, her eyes watering.
Someone called her name.
Groggily, she looked up to find Garrick still standing over her, his arrogant face eyeing her with satisfaction. Then he turned to Red.
"Lizzie," Red repeated. "Don't try to talk, just breathe. Breathe Lizzie."
She did. She tried to calm her ragged breaths, finding strange comfort in Reddington's presence.
"Yes," Garrick's grating voice slithered. "I think this will do just fine."
"What do you want?" Red snapped.
Garrick smiled that lopsided smile of his. "I want to see you suffer, Reddington. You came out of the box for this agent." His gaze shifted back to Liz. "You must be special."
"You sick son of a bitch," Liz rasped, finding her voice. "You won't get away with this."
He eyed her with curiosity for a moment, then backhanded her across the face.
"Anslo, you sadistic imbecile, if you want to hurt me, then hurt me. But leave her out of it," Red said cooly, but Liz could tell his collected facade was cracking.
Liz's cheek stung and her eyes watered, but she refused to let Garrick see her confidence waver. If she showed weakness, it would be over.
Garrick laughed with a sound like the rustle of dead leaves. "I am hurting you, Red. And I don't even have to touch you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth, tying it around Red's mouth. "That's better," he sighed. "You were becoming repetitious."
He turned back to Liz.
"You, on the other hand, I am very interested to learn about, preferably without your boyfriend interrupting."
"He's not my boyfriend," Liz said bitingly. "He's my CI."
"Your CI," Garrick repeated. "Hmm, that might be true, but you mean much more to him."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "What kind of torture would you prefer agent?" Liz's eyes flitted nervously to Red, but his own were filled with sadness and frustration. His only weapon, his words, had been taken away. "I'll let you choose."
Liz hardened her expression. "Why don't you just keep talking."
Garrick met her steely gaze with his own and nodded to himself. "Drugs," he said, walking to the door. "That's what I was thinking too." He left the room.
Liz and Red were left in silence. Gagged, Red could only look at her sympathetically.
"I know what you're thinking," Liz said. Her voice was still hoarse. "You're blaming yourself. But I didn't have to try to rescue you. It was my decision."
The silence stretched on for several minutes until Garrick came back in carrying a tray of needles, and Liz stiffened, her insides going cold.
He selected one off of the tray and set the rest down on the ground. She tried to pull away from him as he approached her with the needle, but he grabbed her by the hair with one hand and stuck the needle into her neck. "There you go sweetie."
Garrick glanced at both of them in turn. "Enjoy," he said as he made his way back to the door. He stopped short, pausing as if a thought occurred to him, and walked back over to Reddington. He pulled the gag loose and let it hang around Red's neck. "For you, ol' boy," he said, patting Reddington on the shoulder before leaving the room.
"Lizzy," Red started quickly. His voice was soft and comforting, but urgent. "I don't know what kind of drug he gave you, but when it hits your system, you have to block it out. No matter how painful it is, you have to try to block it out of your mind."
"I know. I've had training," she said quietly.
Red shook his head. "Rely on your training, but it won't be enough. Liz, look at me. When it happens, just keep looking at me."
She started to retort, but she was cut short as pain began to spread through her from top to bottom, like a fire waiting to be fanned. She clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Lizzy…Lizzy, look at me."
She obeyed and reopened her eyes, but she couldn't focus. Her head was pounding and her skin felt like it was on fire. She moaned as the pain increased and her body involuntarily began to shake.
"Lizzy! Block it out. Listen to my voice. All you can hear is my voice. The pain is there but you can push it away. Push it all the way to the back of your mind. Concentrate on my voice."
"I can't," Liz muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm trying. It hurts too much." Her hands shook violently in their restraints and she tossed her head, her face frozen in a pained grimace.
"Yes you can Lizzy. You have to keep fighting. Just keep listening to my voice and you'll get through it."
She could feel the chemicals swimming through her, igniting her nerve endings. She fought against the pain with every fiber of her being. Red's words continued to pull her close, dragging her out of the world of pain that was all she knew.
She endured this torment for at least ten minutes before the pain began to subside. It felt like hours, all the while Red talked to her, comforted her. When the pain finally subsided enough that she could think straight, her closed eyes opened to Red, and she could see him clearly enough to see the intense worry etched on his face.
Garrick returned two more times and injected Liz with the concoction. Red, usually successful as the cunning manipulator, was at a loss as Garrick brushed off every attempt to stop the torture, so he did all that he could do—he continued to distract Liz as fiercely as he had in the beginning. It was the only thing keeping her sane.
Liz hung from the restraints now, too weak to hold herself up. Occasionally her body was wracked with pain and spasms even though the last dose was leaving her system.
Sleep, she thought wearily. She fought the urge to slip into unconsciousness—if she fell asleep now, she might not wake back up.
"You have to end this. She can't take much more." Red's voice. She opened her eyes to find Garrick assessing the two of them. She hadn't heard him enter.
"You and I both know that she is holding up quite well. Tough girl," he said commendingly.
Red shook his head grimly.
"Don't worry. I won't kill her anytime soon."
Liz cringed as a hand reached up to her face, brushing aside a strand of hair. "I can see why you like her Red: beautiful and resilient. She's too good for you." His hand dropped to her bare shoulder.
A shot rang out beyond the room. Liz stirred in the restraints, her heart skipping a beat. Garrick, caught off guard, stepped back from her, but not fast enough.
Red's eyes widened. "Lizzie, don't!"
Hanging her weight from the hand-restraints, she managed to bring her knees up just far enough off the ground, as far as the chains would allow, so that they collided with his groin. Garrick grunted and stumbled back a step, fury alighting in his eyes.
"You bitch," he spat. Unfortunately, it only took him a second to regain his balance and he staggered toward Liz. He delivered a swift blow to her face and she tasted blood. Another landed on her abdomen, causing her to gasp agonizingly.
The door crashed open, followed by incoherent, overlapping shouts. And the rest was a blur. Garrick was thrown to the ground and pinned beneath two agents quickly handcuffing him, just as Ressler appeared at Liz's side. She heard Red saying: "Agent Keen needs medical attention. See to Agent Keen!", at the agents who approached him instead of her. Ressler hunched over Garrick's still form and clawed at his pockets for a key to the restraints.
As her hands were freed, Liz unwillingly collapsed but was caught in Ressler's arms. She felt herself being slowly lowered to the floor, shuddering and groaning as the pain of her injuries flared.
"Stay with me Keen."
She heard Ressler calling for medical. He'd be using his radio, just like any time they encountered an injured victim. But this time it was for her. It didn't seem real.
"Lizzie," she heard the familiar, calming voice close beside her.
"Get away from her Reddington. Step back against the wall."
Freed from his own shackles, Red reluctantly followed Ressler's orders, but didn't bother to hide his concerned expression and worried eyes that didn't leave Liz's weak form. Through the narrow slits of her eyes that were all she could manage, she could see Red offer her his best comforting smile.
"You're ok," he said softly.
And with those words to comfort her, the world faded away.
Author's note: I realized after writing this that I had written Ressler into the rescue despite his leg being injured in the tv episode… whoops. So instead of rewriting it, you'll just have to pretend that in my AU, he wasn't injured badly enough to keep him from coming to Liz's rescue.