A/N: So guys, I'm back! This is a two shot here! I started writing this about a month ago, and couldn't have done it without the help of my wonderful friend, jackandsamforever! This is intended to be a Lizzington fic, so fair warning. Also, at the beginning of each chapter I write the name of a song that I imagine would fit this chapter. Nothing is mine. Just toying with them.
Winter Light by Tim Finn
It's always in the back of your mind
When everything is dark, still something shines
One chilly afternoon, you drew the blind
The earth was frozen
Ice upon the water
All at once you saw her
There in the Winter Light
Sinner Man
Red sipped his scotch and watched the city lights glow against the blue skyline. He loved this time of day; when daytime and nightfall met. The darkness and the light came together for a few brief moments each day-and he couldn't help but feel that the glorious sight before him accurately embodied him as a man-or monster as some would say...he would even go so far to say a ghost. His days were brightened by spending time trying to pursue some semblance of truth about his past. A clue, a hint about what had happened to his wife and child. Ironic as it was, wallowing in the past while working alongside Lizzie brought the light back to him. His life revolved around the Blacklist that he had created to be close to her. He wanted desperately to show her the truth about her world, her life, and the man that shared her bed.
"Raymond."
Red turned towards the familiar voice and breathed in hastily, breaking out of his musings.
"Yes?" Red replied.
"I've checked the perimeter and it's secure for now, but we're going to need to relocate further out after we return from our trip," Dembe told him quietly.
Red nodded and continued to watch the lights. Over eighty stories below, the hum of the late night traffic could still be heard. A life of normalcy that allowed one to take part in something so mundane as rush hour seemed so foreign to Red now. In his line of work it was easy to get around traffic if need be, so he never found himself in those situations. He sighed deeply as he pulled up the side of his mouth. "Go ahead and take the rest of the night off my friend. We leave for Scotland at six tomorrow. We'll need as much rest as possible if we're going to set up the house quickly."
"Very well. Good night Raymond. "
"Good night, Dembe."
He heard his retreating footsteps down the hall, then the sounds of the door opening and shutting.
This was his darkness. Left alone to his own devices with only his thoughts to keep him company; his demons would visit him in his sleep. It was a dangerous thing to be left alone with in darkness, especially for him. There was no telling what would happen. Tonight could be the night that he went on a whim and did something drastic.
R. R. R. R. R.
The moon streaked in through the slightly parted curtains. He had collapsed on the bed in his clothes, only pausing to remove his tie and vest. Sleep evaded him some nights; most nights he decided to evade it. Knowing that he was within darkness's grasp kept him from feeling the safety that the cool night could bring him.
R. R. R. R. R
Everything is white. The ground, the trees, the very air in front of him. He tries to move, to run, to shout-anything. He needs to move! The desperation in his heart overwhelms him with the knowledge that no matter what, he will never get to them on time.
R. R. R. R. R.
His knuckles turn white reflecting the illusions of his mind as he clenches fistfuls of the beds sheets beneath him. His breath is coming out in short gasps. Nevertheless, in the darkness he is powerless.
R. R. R. R. R.
There is blood everywhere. He does not understand what happened; he can't see them. He turns around glancing around the room. It's all red. He turns again. And again. And again. The room slowly spins. And all he can see is the blood.
R. R. R. R. R.
Sweat broke out on his brow as he gasped in anguish. A groan escaped his mouth through his clenched teeth as he pressed the side of his face against his pillow.
R. R. R. R. R.
He watches as Tom Keen stands over Lizzie with a malicious glint in his eye. There is blood trailing down her face. She winces as Tom grabs fistfuls of her hair and blinks up at him in confusion. He watches as her eyes fall on him and watches him with sadness.
R. R. R. R. R
"No," he mumbles with a furrowed brow.
"No-o not her," he breathed out.
However, the darkness clouded his mind further.
R. R. R.R. R
Curly hair brushes his face as he holds her small body against his chest. A high-pitched whistling sound fills his ears as he watches himself lift his face and roar a roar that he cannot hear. The side of his face stained with her blood.
R. R. R. R. R.
"God no!" His face contorts in pain as he thrashes around on the bed. A growl escapes him as he grits his teeth in agony.
R. R. R. R. R
Liz paused in front of the door before knocking. On any other night, she would not be here. However, on this night in particular, Cooper had decided that it would be a good idea wake her from some much needed sleep after working a case nonstop for two weeks. She had only stopped at her apartment four times to shower, change and perhaps rest for a couple of hours. Otherwise, she was only there to feed Hudson before rushing off to the post office again.
She stood at the front door of her much loathed charge. There was never a moments rest with this man who had all but consumed every aspect of her life. Her job. Even her fake marriage! Now here she was checking up on him after Aram had noticed that he was no longer on the radar. He'd shown her this particular penthouse several months ago when he had insisted in showing her the view of the skyline, declaring that it was the most magnificent one in D.C. As always, he had been right.
She knocked firmly on the door and waited for a response. None came. She thought that perhaps Red would still be up at this hour, or even Dembe; her assumption was obviously wrong.
Maybe Dembe didn't sleep in the apartment with him.
Liz looked around the dark hallway and saw one lonesome door several feet down from Red's door. Bingo. Liz hurried over and rapped loudly on the door, confident that this was the right door.
She waited a beat before the door opened to reveal the tall bodyguard looking awake and alert despite the ungodly hour.
"Agent Keen," he greeted her.
"Hi, Dembe," she smiled apologetically. It was not the man's fault that Red was such a pain in the ass. "Red disappeared off the grid, and Cooper sent me over to check on him," she explained.
He nodded in understanding. "I believe he's resting right now."
"Do you mind if I speak to him for a minute? It won't take long."
He hesitated for a moment before nodding once more. Shutting the door behind him, he led her back to the penthouse door and punched in a code, which unlocked the door with a faint beep.
"Thanks, I'll call you if we need anything. I hope you can get back to sleep," Liz told him.
The corners of his lips rose up slightly. "Good night Miss Keen."
"Night, Dembe," she said before hurrying in and locking the door behind her. Working with Red these past several months had taught her that any hour was a good hour for his adversaries to strike; they had no respect for the sleep deprived.
She quietly ventured further into the large penthouse and took in the stylish furnishings illuminated by a large window wall along the living area. The area was wide and spacious, giving Liz the impression that the decorator had tried to give the place a modern vibe completely contrasting what she took to be Red's more old fashioned tastes. She was just about to flick on the nearest light switch when she heard a hoarse groan. She froze in place, certain that she was hearing things. Then she heard it again.
"No," a loud but muffled voice said. "Kill me!"
"Red?" She called out bewildered. A gravelly moan resonated down the hall in reply, and she quickly rushed towards the source.
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