Ressler Prompt #3 - Reunion after Liz's apparent death. Angst or fluff.
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Ressler sits at his desk, reflecting on the events of the day. After holding Reddington at gunpoint, he'd left the criminal and his entourage, making his way back to the Post Office. Even while his gun had been held on Red, hand shaking on the pistol grip, part of him had wanted Red to kill Kirk. He was ready and willing to let Reddington take a life to avenge another. The entire drive back to work had been one of conflict and reflection. On returning, the war room was quiet and he'd gone straight to his office. And sat. And thought. He'd crossed a line. A very big line. One he would not allow himself to cross again.
His phone rings, startling him out of his thoughts. Looking at the caller ID he gives a soft groan and then answers, gearing himself up for another round with Reddington. As if their Mexican standoff at the courthouse today hadn't been enough.
"Reddington, what do you want?" Ressler isn't angry or annoyed. Just resigned to the fact that he's more like the criminal than he cares to admit.
"Donald," Reddington answers and something in the man's voice makes Ressler lean forward in his office chair.
"What is it?" Ressler asks. Something is wrong.
"Elizabeth…" Reddington stops, and at the crack in the man's voice, Ressler has the overwhelming sense he's about to hear a gunshot through the phone as Reddington ends it all with a bullet to his brain. Because it's been too much for the criminal to bear. And Ressler wouldn't blame the man one bit for taking himself out of the mix. And in an odd sort of way, it would be fitting if he were the one to hear the man's final word. His final breath. His death.
Head dipping, he speaks quietly to the man. "Reddington, you-"
"Donald. Elizabeth is alive."
Ressler's head shoots upward.
At Ressler's audible gasp, Reddington continues, voice taut. "Her death was an elaborate hoax in order to extricate her and her child from this life." He stops, then continues. "From… my life." Every word he speaks exudes pain.
Ressler can't say a word as his own feelings run the entire gamut. Shock. Disbelief. Bewilderment. Awe. Relief. Where one emotion ends and the other begins is fuzzy, as another emotion comes to the fore – that of compassion toward the man he is listening to.
Red continues. "It was perpetrated by one whom I would never have deemed capable of such intentional deception." Now there is a tightness in the criminal's voice that Ressler has never heard before. It takes a few moments before he recognizes it. Barely controlled fury. Reddington has been betrayed.
It occurs to him that they all have.
"Donald, I need you here. Not the FBI. You alone. Dembe will be in contact."
It takes a moment to realize Reddington has hung up as he sits gazing into nothing, phone still to his ear. How can Liz be alive? He had mourned her! And where the hell is 'here' and why does Reddington need him there? Thoughts tumbling over each other, he staggers to his feet, drops his phone to his desk and stands a moment.
Liz is alive. And with that news, the sickening reality hits him even harder. He'd almost let Reddington kill an innocent man today. Seeking revenge for a death that never occurred. He would have participated in the killing of a man who was in no way responsible for the death of Elizabeth Keen.
"Shit..." Ressler steps away from his desk and the walk from his office is a blur, but he finds himself outside Cooper's office, feeling like he's about to implode. He hesitates, then slowly walks into Cooper's office, trying to digest it all. He won't sit down, despite his boss encouraging him to.
As he talks to Cooper, explaining how he had almost let Reddington kill a man, he falters, questioning his ethics. His morals. Everything he's held dear. And finally trusting his voice to give Cooper the news that he's just been hit with, he slowly looks to his boss.
"And Liz. She's alive."
Cooper's look shadows what Ressler had felt. He sees the emotions fly across the man's features in quick succession before he asks one word.
"How?"
Exactly what Ressler needs to know.
Cooper steps back, leaning against his desk. "We buried her. I gave her eulogy..." He looks to Ressler again. "And she's really-"
"Yes."
Cooper is still shaking his head. "What do we need to do? Where is she?
"I don't know. Yet. But Reddington wants me there."
Cooper nods, still taking in the news. "Of course. Whatever you need to do, I'll back you."
Ressler sighs, then leans against the door frame and shakes his head. "Sir, you told me a while back that I was the agent you had always aspired to be. But after what I almost let Reddington do today... I've let you down." Dropping his eyes, he pulls his gun and shield off his belt and hands them to a confused Cooper. "I've let the Bureau down, and I...I can't wear this badge anymore."
"Don…what are you saying?" Cooper reluctantly takes the badge and gun, before placing them on his desk behind him. "I'll hang on to them for you," he looks to Ressler, adding carefully, "For when you return."
"No, sir." He straightens, looks Cooper in the eye as his voice strengthens with conviction. "I'm done. I quit."
###
The short conversation with Reddington had put a series of events in motion that had culminated in him sitting alone on Reddington's jet, headed for somewhere in Cuba. In their brief conversation, Dembe had merely given him a time and a small airfield where he would be picked up from. It took Ressler asking twice to at least get some idea of their destination. And even then, he only got the name of the country.
Ressler's words to Cooper are still echoing in his ears as he sits alone in his regular seat at the back of the jet. He had not let his boss talk him out of resigning. After the decisions – seemingly all bad – that he's made of late, today was the last straw. The final nail in the coffin. He sighs at that, looking out the window at the thought of a coffin. Who, or what, had they buried? How had she done it? He had seen her with his own eyes, dead inside a van under a small overpass.
As the only passenger on board, he's glad of the peace it affords. The drone of the engines is almost comforting. There is no one to explain his decision to, which is best, since he can barely fathom what he's done. But one thing is certain. He had not acted like a federal agent today and has no right to wear the badge of one. His head leans back on the comfortable recliner seat as his eyes close. But there is no rest. Only images. Only questions.
And the biggest question of all. How could she do this to them? How could Liz have so blatantly lied to all of them?
Another emotion has pushed the others aside. Try as he might, he cannot stop the anger that is brewing within. She made them believe she was dead. They had carried her coffin to the waiting hearse. For what? To now be alive somewhere, after weeks of mourning? He doesn't understand. But he's damn well going to find out what happened.
His eyes open at the sound of the intercom. "Sir, we're about to commence our descent, if you would fasten your seat belt."
His seat belt is already fastened as he's not one for walking around planes in midair. The pressure in his ears increases as he detects the plane descending, and before he knows it they're taxiing into a small hangar, somewhere in Cuba. As he descends the small ramp and leaves the jet, Dembe is waiting beside a black car.
"Agent Ressler, I am glad you are here," Dembe greets him, reaching for Ressler's duffel bag which he then places in the trunk.
He doesn't tell the man he's no longer an agent. Instead he nods to Dembe, then silently opens the back door of the car, sliding in. He's surprised to find Reddington sitting in the back seat across from him.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Donald. We have a situation."
Ressler turns to him and clenches his teeth. No shit, they have a situation. "She really did this?"
Reddington doesn't need to answer. Ressler sees it burning in the man's eyes as Dembe starts the car and pulls away from the airstrip.
"Our little dance with guns today revealed one thing," Reddington tells him, and Ressler can already hear that the man's voice is calmer. More in control than their earlier phone call. "Alexander Kirk was not at the courthouse for the hearing, because he was here. He was otherwise engaged in abducting Elizabeth from her safe house."
"What?" Ressler's head spins around to the man. "Then we need to-"
"We don't need to do anything. I have a lot of resources, something you should be well acquainted with by now. I have already secured her release. She is at the location we are heading for."
Ressler takes in this news. It's certainly been a day for reveals. "And she's safe?"
Reddington doesn't answer immediately, and even in the dim light, Ressler can see the clench of teeth in Reddington's jaw. "She is safe from Kirk."
Ressler knows that look. "I see."
"I need you here to take Elizabeth safely back to the US. No one must know she is alive, and I trust you to keep that information secure from interested parties." He looks across to Ressler. "Dembe and I have other business to attend to here. Our work is not done." He doesn't elaborate, and Ressler is suddenly in no mood to ask. He's heard more than enough for one day.
A few silent moments pass before Red speaks again. "And Donald, I am sorry you felt it necessary to quit the Bureau."
Ressler stares out the window as they drive through the city shrouded in darkness around him, and does not reply. Apparently, even in Cuba, the Reddington grapevine is alive and well.
At his silence, Red continues. His tone changes, and Ressler listens to the unmistakeable fatherly concern Red often exhibits toward him. "If you'll take my advice, Donald, go talk to Harold when you return. Decisions based on emotion are rarely the best ones under any circumstances. Especially ones such as these."
Ressler looks at the man as Dembe pulls up to a large pale mansion in the dark.
"Talk to Harold. The Bureau needs you. As much as you may think you failed today, you did not. I would have shot a man in cold blood, had you not been there." Reddington swallows, looks away briefly and back to Ressler. "And for that, you have my gratitude."
As they exit the car, Ressler stands in the humid night air. A gentle breeze is blowing, but it's doing little to cool the night down. The soft chirp of cicadas comes from the greenery beside the house. Reddington points to the third floor, where a soft light shines in a window.
"Elizabeth is in that room."
###
The moment he sets eyes on her, his rehearsed speech immediately escapes him. He stops in the dark just inside the door, letting it close behind him. The curtains are blowing lightly in the night breeze, framing her. She's in silhouette, but he'd recognize her anywhere. She IS alive. He had believed Reddington, but now he's seeing her with his own two eyes. She turns from the window, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating her features.
"Look, Reddington, I-" Liz says, then stops, peering further into the shadows where he's standing. Her eyes widen. "Ressler?!"
Reddington hadn't told her he was coming. He can see that much immediately.
She moves quickly to him, gathering her soft blouse to her throat. "Oh, my gosh, what are you doing here?!" She approaches him and then stops, meeting his eyes.
His voice is even, fighting down the emotional rollercoaster at seeing her. "What am I doing here?" he steps forward. "What are YOU doing here, Keen?"
"Ressler, I," she hesitates, searches his eyes, chews her bottom lip a moment, then steps back from him. "I know. I owe you an explanation."
Damn right she does. He shakes his head, steps closer to her and lowers his voice. "I thought you were dead. And the whole time, you were here?" he motions with his hand, encompassing the softly lit room.
"Not all of the time." She reaches for his arm, hesitates, then thinks better of it. "You have to know I had a very good reason-"
He steps further into the light and stands a few feet from her. "A good reason? What can possibly justify making me - making all of us believe we buried you?" His hand finds the back of his neck as he falters at her expression, unable to look at her and steps away, hands on his hips.
"It was for my daughter. You said it yourself, we live in a dangerous world. I couldn't let her…"
He turns back to her, shaking his head. "Your daughter? You left her alone with Tom Keen! His life is just as dangerous as Reddingtons! How is that keeping her safe?" And that's it. The mention of her ex-husband does him in.
"I had to think fast. I didn't have time!" she tells him, moving to him again. "Can I just explain?"
"I doubt that." He tosses it to her harshly. She sees the flash in his eyes and looks away a moment.
"Please, just sit down. Please, Ress."
At her saying his name that way he slides his eyes back to her, grimaces, yet does sit on the edge of the recliner in the room. Hands on his knees, he leans forward, watching her as she sits on the ornate padded chest at the foot of the bed, facing him. Part of him still can't quite believe he's looking at her. The other half is trying to quell the anger inside him. A mode of operation he's more than familiar with.
"Do you have any idea what that did to… everyone? Do you even care?" He's not doing a very good job of keeping his anger in check and stops himself, letting her speak.
"It hasn't been easy for me either. Keeping this from you. Hell, it even made the news down here. I saw my own funeral on a news report on Cuban TV!"
"I was AT that funeral, Liz!" He's on his feet again, taking in a deep breath and facing her. "I sat there, watching Cooper give your eulogy. I watched Aram cry at your graveside! Hell, I went back that night and-" He's not going to tell her he'd shed silent tears at her freshly dug grave, kneeling down and running his hands through the freshly turned dirt. That he'd only left when he saw Reddington arrive, disappearing quickly in the dark before the criminal detected his presence. "Don't tell me this hasn't been easy for you! You planned this whole thing!"
"I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't had to put any of you in this position." She rises, reaching for his arm as he stalks past her but he bypasses it.
"Not just the task force. Do you have any comprehension of what Reddington went through?" The irony strikes him that he's defending the criminal he'd held a gun to hours ago, but he pushes on regardless. "He couldn't even face your funeral. I thought he was going to kill himself, Liz! We all did! THAT's what you did to him!"
"My god…" she whispers, hand to her mouth.
"I damn well hope it was worth it, Liz. Was it?" He scowls, turns from her and stands silhouetted in the window, breathing heavily.
She doesn't answer at first, sitting slowly down on the chest again, then shakes her head. "I don't know."
He sucks in a breath of air and looks out at the town around them. From the third floor of the large mansion, the surrounding houses don't look quite as opulent.
"I don't know," she repeats. "Ressler. Agnes is missing."
"What?" Ressler spins from the window and walks quickly to her. "Missing?"
"Yes, taken from her crib in the next room this afternoon." Liz's voice cracks as she wipes a tear away.
And suddenly he's back at the courthouse as Reddington looks through the scope of the weapon. He had heard it loud and clear as Dembe told Red 'Keen made a move. He took Agnes.'
Tom Keen was in on it.
"He knew?! That son of a bitch knew you were alive and brought her here!" It's not a question. Liz sees immediately he's got it in one.
"Ressler, I-"
He reels back to her, pointing his finger in her face as she rises. "No. Save it. Damn it, Liz. You had him in on your plan but you didn't trust anyone else? And that fucking son of a bitch never let on to any of us!" He had held that baby at her Christening, told them all about family and that bastard had known she was alive all along.
Brushing tears away, she stands up to him, jaw set. "I told you, it was all done very quickly. Tom was there when it was done right after Agnes was born. I just didn't have time to tell you or anyone before I was injected with the stuff to knock me out!"
He's not letting her off the hook that easily. "And your bastard ex-husband, he didn't have time to tell us either? He came into the task force, Liz! Marched into the Post Office and started working with us, and he never had time to say anything? Damn it, Liz."
"It wasn't safe! You know we've had our suspicions about the Cabal bugging the Post Office!" Her voice is raised as she keeps pace with him, stalking across the room and back again. "I didn't know who I could trust!"
He stops in his tracks, glaring at her. "And that includes me?" He snarls, looks away and shakes his head. "Out of everyone Liz, I would have thought-" He doesn't finish.
"Ressler, I'm... Look, I know-"
"You don't know!" All semblance of calm leaves the building as he moves in close to her, inches from her face. "You have no idea! I just quit the Bureau because I almost let an innocent man get killed today while seeking revenge for your death! I wanted Kirk dead because he took you away from us! Took you from ME!"
"You quit?!"
"Yes. I can't be that person anymore. Not after this."
"Oh, my God, Ress."
But his job isn't at the forefront of his thoughts right now. "Don't you get it? I thought I had lost you! I mourned you. I buried you! Once again I buried a woman that I-" He stops. Fights back sudden, unwanted tears and turns away from her. "Shit."
"Ress. I'm so sorry."
"Are you? Really?" The sting is still in his words. But he's said too much. Attempting to dial it down a notch, he returns to look out the window into the still night. In the distance a dog barks, but otherwise all is silent outside.
"I didn't say anything because I needed to protect you from that knowledge. I used Tom, nothing more. But I kept it from you to protect all of you," she tells him quietly, coming up behind him.
"You know what? Do me a favor, Liz. DON'T try and protect me."
Her hand is suddenly on his back, but he doesn't move. He's brushed off her touch before, but this time he doesn't. Because he's missed her. Achingly so. And he'd hidden it deep inside, and done a pretty good job of hiding it. Until he'd seen her.
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You hurt all of us, Liz." He shakes his head, as the last few weeks run through his mind. "Deeply." He turns his head a little, seeing her behind him to his right side. Her cheeks are wet as silent tears roll down.
"I… I know, Ress. I know," she sobs, covering her face with her hands.
The weeks melt away. He's beside her again and she's hurting just like he is. He turns and his arms welcome her into them. As she folds into him, his chin finds her hair. She's shaking and he can hear her crying in the dark. His own eyes blur with unshed tears as he holds her tight. Eyes closing, his head drops as he whispers in her ear. He has no clue what he's even saying. But it doesn't seem to matter as her tears ease.
She calms and rises up off his chest. She sniffs, and touches his cheek. "Damn, I've missed you."
His fingers stroke her cheek, wiping the tears from her pale, soft skin. "I missed you too. It hurt, Liz. I really thought you were gone." There are times he wonders why he's so open and raw with her. A tear finally escapes his brimming eyes as he hurriedly brushes it away. "And you were right."
"About?"
"It WAS terrifying." His eyes search hers as he attempts a small smile. "Promise me you won't do that again, okay? Twice is enough to last me a lifetime."
"I promise." She moves back into him, her arms wrapping around him again. He's also not ready to let her go just yet. Her voice comes out of the dark as she's pressed against his chest.
"And will you promise me something?"
He drops his eyes to her, already knowing what she's going to ask him.
"Reconsider leaving the Bureau. What you almost did today doesn't make you a bad agent. It makes you human."
"Liz, I wanted Reddington to kill a man. That's not something I can easily dismiss."
She's warm against his chest, and speaks softly. "I know, but the fact that it's eating you up is why you're a good agent. You have so much more to still offer the Bureau," she pauses, and adds "And I need you there, Ress."
She looks up at him. "It's not just what you do. It's who you are. It's what I… love about you."