This is an idea I had for a while, but only until I started watching The Walking Dead did I ever try and write it. I DO NOT OWN ANY BLACKLIST CHARACTERS. This isn't the usual type of Blacklist story, but I hope you'll like it anyways! Please review, it means a lot and it keeps me wanting to write more. Special thanks to my incredible beta, theblacklister23 for reading this over, and giving me the awesome summary to this story!

It's been three years since the outbreak. Some experiment gone wrong in a lab across the world. Nobody knew the true story, and nobody ever would. It was almost unbelievable how fast it spread around the world. I've watched the people I love die right in front of me, unable to do anything but run. They died, like most, the worst way possible. Being a feast for the dead that walk. We found a name to call the dead walkers, and we called them roamers.

Although roamers are nightmarish, to say the least, It actually isn't all that hard to kill the disgusting things. You just have to hit them in the brain and they'll drop to the floor. If you hit them elsewhere, say the heart, they'll just walk on with the new wound you gave it. The roamers can only smell, all other senses were gone. Like hearing, seeing, feeling. They were driven by some strange hunger to eat the humans that were left. And sometimes, I wondered, could Tom and I be the only people living?

I always tried not to think like that. Because if that were true, my old coworkers would be dead and gone. I just had to keep hope in my heart that they were all still alive. That He was alive… Before all this happened, I used to be a profiler. I was partnered up with a grumpy but caring top agent of the FBI. His name was Donald Ressler. I wouldn't only call him my partner though, he was my best friend. In fact, when the disease was finally spread here, I was with him. We were out at a bar, drinking some beer after getting Red's latest blacklister. Having easy laughter and smiles despite the situation in our decreasing population.

"Liz… I need to say something." He said after being silent for a minute.

"Sure, Res."

"I want you to know that, when the roamers come to our part of the world, I'll always have your back… I care about you a lot, Liz. I guess that should kinda go without saying." He cleared his throat.

"It should, but I think I needed to hear it. I feel the same about you, Res. I couldn't ask for a better friend. Or partner." I said matter of factly.

"I need to tell you something else though… I think you deserve to know.. Liz, you are…"

Before he could finish what he was saying, Sirens flooded the room and into our ears as we were told to evacuate. I could see the fear flash in his eyes as he looked back up at me. We knew this day would come. What we didn't know is that it would be so quickly. Suddenly we grabbed each other's hand in fear we would be separated. Both our hands were slick with sweat already, but we still held on tightly. As we ran through the crowd of screaming people, we lost our hold on each other. The flow of the crowd carried us away from each other. The screams of others around me drowned out my own. After that, I knew I had to leave. With or without him. It hurt every ounce of me, but I knew he'd be alright. For then, at least. I never saw him again after that. I held onto hope that he was still alive. He was smart… But that didn't mean that the roamers couldn't get to him. Even the smartest people became a part of the large group of the dead that walk, so I pushed the thought to the back of my brain.

I went to my house that night. I needed to get everyone I cared about and leave.

"Dad! Tom!" I remembered screaming. I was stressed from being apart from Ressler, but we had to leave. And we had to leave NOW.

Almost as soon as the names came out of my mouth, I heard the ragged breathing of somebody on the floor. I looked over to the sound and saw Sam, my father, lying on the living room floor with his neck torn open. The blood already soaked the carpet around him. It didn't take me long to see He was choking on his own blood.

"NO! NO! DAD GET UP!" I ran over to him and saw that my whole kitchen was filled with roamers. There was nothing I could do, but it didn't stop me from moving towards him. I was a foot away when I felt myself being dragged. Screaming, I kicked in the air.

"Liz! Liz! It's me. It's Tom. We need to leave!"

I heard while his grip on me got tighter and the tugging harder.

"Tom, my dad!" I screeched over the roamers grunts.

"There's nothing we can do!" He growled in my ear.

The roamers were after us now. I felt utterly hopeless.

"Liz, I will knock you out if I have to. Either way, we're going. Willingly or not."

That's when I found the will to move. I ran as fast as I could, never looking back. I was sickened by the thought of the roamers feasting on my dead dad. The thought alone made me want to give up. But I couldn't… I wouldn't.

Tom pushed me out into our car and we drove far far away. The whole ride, we didn't talk at all. I just looked out the window, not even able to cry. For some odd reason, I wanted to be alone to cry.

Hours into driving, we found a house that had no roamers near or in it. So we decided to stay there for a while. I cried myself to sleep that night. Soaking my pillow with my tears. My throat aching with hurt. Tom was on the complete other side of the room. I had told him I wanted to be alone, and he obeyed my wishes.

Two years since my dad died and I lost Ressler… Two years Tom and I had been on the run. Despite knowing we very well could be some of the few people that lived through this hell, we grew apart, not closer. It was weird. We kept our distance and we weren't comfortable with each other anymore. I couldn't bring myself to ever talk to him about my problems, and he his. Two years it had been like that. At the end of those two years, I woke up to a note beside my bed. Tom was nowhere to be seen. I opened it and my mouth hung agape as I read what Tom scribbled down in his hand writing.

"I can't protect you anymore. We have grown apart and it's like we're invisible from each other. I'm going with my gut, I'm leaving. This is what's best for the both of us. Goodbye, Liz. -Tom"

I never knew I could feel any lonelier. Even though we hadn't really talked much unless necessary, it still felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only living thing in the world.

What I found is that he left me nearly nothing except the note, a blanket and one hand held gun. He took all the tools and other guns, even the car. I couldn't believe he would do this. No matter how far we grew apart. I found that I hated him with a burning passion. It had hurt me that he could just leave me with no back up or protection besides the small pistol.

It's been a year since Tom left, which means that it's been a year since I have had any human contact or communication. It also meant it had been three years since my dad's death and the loss of Ressler.

In that year, I had found my own place to stay. It was safe as far as I was concerned. I would only have to kill one to two roamers a week, which wasn't too bad compared to when I was with Tom. It was even close to a small little store where I would get my toiletries and treats and such. As each day passed, I got used to being alone. I didn't like it, but I was accustomed to it. When I first explored the house, I found some CDs and a CD player. Ever since I found them, I'd play them while I tidied my place up, singing along to it. There was so little happiness I could get from the world and The little CD player saved me from going insane.

Two months later, I was sleeping when I heard a sound outside. I jumped out of bed and got my pistol, getting ready for a roamer. I opened my window and jumped out, my usual routine since I liked to keep the door locked at all times. As I looked around I heard another sound in the trees. I ran silently over to it and raised my gun, getting ready to fire. A head popped up into my line of vision and I realized it wasn't a head that could belong to any roamer. It was breathing… It was blinking…

It was a person.

A real, live, breathing person.

A person I'd never think I would see in my entire life again.

And that person, I soon realized, was the one and only Donald Ressler.