"Samar." Liz's voice cracked.

Samar inhaled sharply. "Liz," she whispered, anxiously glancing around her apartment from her perch on the end of the bed even though she knew she was alone. It had been three days since the woman she loved killed Tom Connolly and disappeared. "You shouldn't be calling me."

"I know," Liz replied, her voice shaking. "But I needed to hear your voice. I needed to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Samar squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing. More apologies. Endless apologies. After the Kenyons, after Tracy Solobotkin, after the King auction. After nearly getting arrested on felony charges. After making herself a target of the Cabal in order to save Reddington's life. But this time, Liz was gone. This time Samar was alone. This time the apology couldn't fix things. It hurt in places Samar didn't know she had inside her. After a moment, she spoke. "Are you okay? Are you safe?"

"I'm safe, for now. But no, I'm not okay, Samar. Of course I'm not okay. I never wanted to put you or anyone else in this position. But he threatened you. He threatened you… I was so scared I couldn't think. He said he planned to have you extradited to Iran for killing that scientist, and they could have easily had you executed, Samar. I didn't know what to do, I just had to stop him, I couldn't let him hurt you. But now, I just… What if I can't fix this?" Samar could hear Liz's voice breaking, Liz crying as she stumbled over her words. "What if I never see you again? What am I supposed to do without you? All you wanted was for me not to leave you and I couldn't even do that. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." Liz trailed off, allowing her sobs to gain the upper hand over her thoughts.

Samar swallowed, trying to control the emotion rising in her throat as she listened to Liz's muffled cries. "I will always be on your side, Liz. I promise. And I understand. You did what you had to do," she responded, her voice tight, hoarse.

"Okay," Liz breathed out shakily. "I have to go. Just know that no matter what happens, I love you. So, so much."

Tears streamed silently down Samar's cheeks. "I love you too. Always. Please be careful," she managed to get out, her voice somehow steady.

"You be careful too," Liz replied.

And then she was gone, the call disconnected.

Samar hung up and stared at the phone in her hand. She felt like her chest was on fire. She had tried to control her grief and despair over the past three days, but now it was a raging inferno pushing itself to the surface and she could do nothing to stop it. She pushed herself up the bed and curled into a ball on her side, where she allowed herself to break into a billion tiny pieces.

Her body shook so hard with sobs that she could barely get oxygen into her lungs. She gasped for air whenever she could, and each sharp inhale seemed like it was cutting her heart open. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of Liz. She reached for her pillow, pulling it to her chest, curling her body around it, clutching it so tightly her knuckles turned white. She buried her face in the soft fabric, allowing it to muffle her sobs.

Samar cried until her body was so exhausted that she could no longer stay awake. She woke a few hours later, her head pounding, her face covered in dry tears and snot, a memory tickling at the back of her mind.

And for what it's worth? I would've left with you in a heartbeat.

Samar closed her eyes again, remembering Liz's words – what Liz had said when she'd told her about Leila all those months ago. I would've left with you in a heartbeat.

Liz would leave her life behind for her.

The memory, the realization, brought clarity. Samar needed to find Liz and go to her – leave her life here, or rather what was left of it, behind without a second glance. She had to make sure Liz knew that she, too, would leave everything behind for her, in a heartbeat. She refused to let the past be repeated. She refused to let fear keep her from being happy. She refused to be Leila.

She sat up, shaking the fog of grief-strained sleep from her brain. Liz would have thrown away the phone she'd called her from immediately, so there was no point in trying to call her back; it had been hours. She would need to triple her efforts to find Liz, and when she did, she would leave Washington without saying a word to anyone.

She knew finding Liz would be difficult. But leaving everything behind so they could be together? That would be easy.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

It had been three months since Samar made her resolution and she hadn't heard from Liz again. She wasn't expecting to, but she longed to hear her voice, to know that she was still safe. She was trying desperately not to lose hope, but it was proving to be a challenge. She had followed several leads, some on her own, some with the team, but she'd gotten nowhere.

It was Friday, early evening, and Samar had just gotten home from work. She was curled up on her couch, dejected, her mug of tea untouched and growing cold. Everything reminded her of Liz. She couldn't be at the Post Office without missing her. She couldn't be in her apartment without remembering the first time they'd made love. She couldn't sit on this damn couch without thinking of all the times they'd snuggled up together watching Friends.

Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away, reaching for the remote and flipping through the controls to access her Netflix account. She hadn't been able to watch Friends since Liz left. She just couldn't watch it without her. They had left off somewhere in the seventh season; maybe she'd never find out what happened next.

As Netflix loaded on the screen in front of her, she sat bolt upright, her heart leaping into her throat, beating wildly. The account looked different, asking her who was watching. It had never done that before; she didn't share her account with anyone. Only Liz when they watched together. But now there was a new profile – two boxes sitting next to each other. The one on the left had her own name, but the one on the right simply said "L."

She covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to use the remote to click on the new, mystery profile. She knew it was Liz. Liz, letting her know that she was safe. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears, but one slipped through.

The profile loaded and Samar felt like she couldn't breathe. There was only one title under 'Continue Watching.'

Friends.

She hovered over the play button. Liz had left off in the middle of an episode. Season 4, episode 23.

Samar felt her heart beating wildly in her chest as she clicked play. It started just as Joey and Chandler began their sightseeing tour of London. She moved back to the episode list. It was the only episode of the entire series that had been watched on the new user profile.

London. Liz was in London. She sincerely doubted that Liz had just been dying to watch this particular episode of Friends while on the run. Red and Liz must have figured out a way to allow Liz to let her know that she was okay, that she was safe in London, without putting them in danger, without their login being detected.

She stood up on shaking legs, unable to look away from the screen. Her mind was in a haze. None of this seemed real. It was the first time in three months that Samar had known where in the world Liz was. She couldn't wait around for something more concrete.

Samar deleted the "L" user profile to cover their tracks and exited Netflix, shutting off the television, before running to her bedroom and grabbing a duffel bag. She flew through her closet and rummaged through her drawers, grabbing the essentials, until the bag was mostly full. She glanced down, realizing she was still in the pajamas she'd changed into after work, and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, slipping into her favorite sneakers.

Samar reached for her purse, grabbing her wallet but leaving everything else behind, including her cell phone. She tossed the wallet into the duffel bag along with her passport, which she pulled out of her desk drawer. She ran to the bathroom, throwing her toothbrush, a travel tube of toothpaste, her comb, and the bare essentials of her makeup into the bag.

She moved back out to the living room, glancing around anxiously, making sure she had everything she needed. She didn't care about most of her belongings; the important things in this apartment were the memories, and those would travel with her wherever she went.

A specific memory came to her mind then. The morning after they first made love. They had been standing together in the kitchen. She remembered Liz's lips tasting of coffee. She remembered Liz grabbing a pen off the counter and writing on the notepad Samar kept on the fridge. You're my lobster. A little heart drawn below the words.

Samar hadn't touched the notepad since, and the note had greeted her every time she opened the fridge. It used to be a happy reminder, but after Liz became the FBI's fifth most wanted, it made her heart ache every time she saw it.

She walked over to the fridge, running her fingers over the words, tracing the heart. She pulled the sheet from the notepad gently. She wanted to keep it safe, so she grabbed the book she'd been reading from the end table next to the couch, tucking the note safely inside and pushing the book down into the duffel bag.

She looked around one more time. She was ready. Ready to leave her life behind, ready to go after love, ready to find Liz. She grabbed her jacket from the hook and her keys from the table in the entryway, and slipped out the door.

Samar was on her way to London.