A/N: Hi, I'm new around here and this is my first fanfic! (I don't plan to add long A/Ns but this one is an exception!) I love The Blacklist and Liz and Ressler are my favorite pairing! This is just a one-shot based off of 2x18, after Red is shot and Liz is at the hospital. I've read a few Keenler fics that I've really liked that have a similar premise (Ress comforting Liz when she needs it most) and I've seen those Keenler moments on the show so I was inspired to write this as my own take on this idea. All you BL fanfiction authors are so good and I respect you so much, so hopefully mine won't be too bad.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the writing. Everything else belongs to NBC.
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She sits in silence, in the empty waiting room. Closing her eyes as if shutting everything out would make everything okay again.
If it ever was okay in the first place.
So then she decides to open her eyes again, revealing the deserted ICU front desk, plastic white chairs, and two doctors looking through some files with a concerned expression on their faces. Nothing in this room is comforting in the least.
She checks the time. Half past one in the morning. And still no word on Reddington.
Reddington, Liz continues to think, because there's literally nothing she can do but think. The Fulcrum, why is this happening-
"Excuse me, miss?" a calm clear voice jolts her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"
It's that nurse with the clipboard, who's been monitoring Reddington for the past three hours.
"Yeah. Fine." Liz says, not even bothering to look up.
"You've been sitting here for three hours. Are you sure you don't want to get up and walk around? If Mr. Rathers' condition changes, I'll be sure to let you know." the nurse's tone is sympathetic.
Liz doesn't answer.
"Alright. Take care then. He'll be undergoing surgery shortly." The nurse forces a smile and gets up and disappears into another room.
Once she has disappeared from sight along with the other two doctors, she finally allows herself to break down.
Sitting alone in a cold, stiff plastic chair in a cold, stiff hospital waiting room while the one man in her life who could provide the answers she needs, who she cares for immensely is fighting for his life, she breaks down, letting each violent sob rack her body, making the situation even more real.
She cries in silence for several minutes more, wrapping her arms protectively over her body, until she finally reaches the familiar numb feeling of nothingness.
She's freezing too. She used her coat to try to stop Reddington's wound and she doesn't have an extra one in her car.
This is all too much.
She needs someone.
Then she hears his voice, calling her name.
The doors swing open and her partner enters the waiting room with a concerned look etched on his face.
"Liz," he says gently, rushing up to her.
But she doesn't even let him finish, she just stands up and throws her arms around him, starting to sob again into his jacket.
Ressler holds her tighter. "Shh. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." He repeats it over and over, saying it so convincingly she almost believes it.
She shivers in his arms from the gust of cold air that enters the room when he walked in, wishing that she had brought that extra coat.
"Here, take my jacket, you're freezing," Ressler says, clearly noticing her uncomfortable state. He takes it off and drapes it over her shoulders.
"I just heard from Dembe." he says, as they sit down together once Liz has composed herself again. "Do you know who did it?"
She shakes her head.
"He's gonna pull through, you know that," he says softly.
"It's all because of that damn fulcrum," she says, and she knows it's selfish, but it's true. "That's why Reddington was shot, that's why you and I are sitting here right now. Because of the Fulcrum."
She hears him sigh, not out of annoyance but exasperation.
"Well, we can't do anything right now, and you know that. Dembe won't hand it over and Reddington's in surgery-" he stops short, knowing that he had just touched a sensitive subject.
She looks up at him, her eyes wide and starting up with tears.
"What are we going to do, Ressler?" she says unsteadily. "What are we going to do if he doesn't live? What am I going to do?"
He pulls her in tightly, and then she realizes that today has been the first time she's been physically comforted by him since she was captured by the Stewmaker a long time ago.
"Don't think that way, Liz," he whispers into her ear as she silently cries into his shoulder. "He's Raymond Reddington, he can pull through anything. Since when does he give up?"
This puts a slight smile on her face, even if it lasts for a second.
They sit there in solemnity for a couple minutes, until Liz finally looks up at him.
"That was brave, what you did earlier."
"Hm?"
"This man, this criminal, that you've hunted for years, this man that you've had no respect for, you hated him. But then you put aside all of that hate, and admit that you want him to live. That's bravery."
He's caught a bit off guard by her statement, but she knows he understands.
"Well he did save my life, back when Anslo Garrick took over the facility. With a blood transfusion." Ressler says carefully, as if he's trying to make sense of his own words. "I could've died, but he saved my life. I guess that's something I should be grateful for. And saying this may be a bit of a stretch, but Raymond Reddington's actually growing on me."
He grins a bit, reminiscently.
"We share the same blood type, you know."
He looks up again, his face a slight bit more hopeful.
"That could prove to be really useful, actually. What's Reddington's condition right now?"
Liz purses her lips, contemplating.
"The bullet hit his chest. Fortunately it missed his heart, but barely. And it broke his ribcage. I don't know how much blood he lost, but it sure looked like a lot. We won't know for sure how he's doing until they're finished surgery, and that's going to take until morning."
She bites her lip. "Thank you."
He half-smiles wistfully. "For what?"
"For being here with me. And it's really late, you should go home, get some sleep. Come back in the morning if you want."
She really did mean it. Once he arrived, she did feel a bit better.
Maybe before she never realized it before or freely admitted it, but he was her light in the darkness.
"Liz, don't be. I know this isn't easy for you-"
"Nor is this easy for you. You can go home now. Take a rest, you've done too much for me. I'll be okay here on my own."
She doesn't really want him to leave, though. She wouldn't be okay.
She wants him to stay.
And it seems as if he read her mind, because he looks at her with a sympathetic face.
"Liz, are you sure you're going to be okay here? he says sternly, looking at her straight in the eye, his gaze soft and gentle.
She looks at him, her eyes glassy with tears, but doesn't say anything.
"If you want me to," he says quietly. "I can stay."
She nods, resting her head on his shoulder. "Stay. Please stay."
She lets herself relax, just for a moment, sitting next to Ressler, taking in his warmth as he puts his arm around her.
And then just like that, she falls asleep, feeling that everything would be okay.
Because he stayed.
...