A/N: The Blacklist has been one of my favorite shows on tv since the very first episode, so I decided it was time to write my own fanfiction about it. No romantic undertones in this one, but I'm considering doing one for Lizzie X Ressler and Lizzington, we'll see how well this one goes over first though.

I own nothing, all credit for these awesome characters goes to the actors that portray them, and of course the creators of the show itself.

Enjoy!

Red is gone. Lizzie kept repeating the phrase in her head as she made her way home from the Post Office. Red is gone, and I promised Tom that we could move after the Anslo Garrick ordeal. She still couldn't believe that Red had left her with only the promise to be there if she were ever in need. How will get to me in time anyway? Is he staying somewhere nearby, hidden? Lizzie tried to quiet her busy mind as she pulled into the driveway, after all she couldn't have Tom realizing that she was thinking about one of the FBI's most wanted.

But what is Red to me anyway? Is he really my biological father, despite what he said during our last phone call? Or is he just an obsessive criminal stalker, like Ressler believes? Well it didn't matter anyway because Lizzie wouldn't know for sure until Red came back, if he came back, and she got a DNA sample from him to compare hers to. It's just so frustrating not at least knowing where he is! Apparently, her mind just couldn't comply with her need to put Raymond Reddington, the Concierge of Crime, out of it; Lizzie rolled her eyes in annoyance and stepped in the doorway of her partially packed house. She made for the stairway as quick and quietly as possible making her way toward the shower, hoping to avoid on conversation with Tom about why she had stayed so late at work.

She couldn't remember when she had started actually avoiding Tom, it just seemed to occur more and more often as the days passed. As Lizzie turned the shower spray, on she heard the front door slam shut downstairs; it looked like she would be spending another night alone.

Lizzie, I want you to know wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, if you are in need, I will be there. The words whispered through her unconscious mind as she slept, and though she didn't know it of course, but she smiled in her sleep.

The door downstairs slamming once again jolted Lizzie awake, and caused her to reach for her gun that was on the nightstand. Coming more awake by the second, she realized it must have been Tom coming home from wherever he had gone when she had come home. She frowned to herself, wishing he had at least had the courtesy to be quiet coming home at - she looked at the clock - 2:56 in the morning! As he walked into their room, she switched on the light and stared at him in shock.

"Were you at a bar this whole time?" She asked, taking in his disheveled appearance and the smell of smoke. "Have you been smoking too?" She thought he had given up smoking for her when they had gotten married, that he had understood her worries about lung cancer, but apparently tonight was a night for surprising realizations.

"Don't Liz, just don't okay?" He grumbled sullenly at her as he headed for his side of the bed.

"I just don't understand, when we got married, you promised that you would-"

"I SAID DON'T, NOW SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP!" Tom screamed at her and grabbed her arm roughly, hoping in his drunken state of mind that he could intimidate her into silence.

He was sadly mistaken however, before he had a chance to blink, Lizzie grabbed his arm and applied pressure until he let her go.

She took a moment to rub her arm, standing up from the bed and made her way to their bedroom door. "I don't know why you're acting this way Tom, but I can't deal with it now, I have work in the morning and I need some sleep. If you need me I'll be on the couch downstairs."

In his still unsettled anger, Tom followed her downstairs and continued to fight her. "That JUST figures, Liz is tired of dealing with Tom so she ignores him and runs away because she has 'work' in the morning. God, do you even really have work, or is it just what you say to escape from home and our failing marriage? You know what? I don't care what you have going on in the morning, you are going to stand here and listen to me your husband for once!" This time Tom grabbed her hair and pulled, hard.

"Tom stop you're hurting me!" No matter how she struggled, Lizzie couldn't manage to get away from her now violently enraged husband. Good God, she'd never seen this side of him, and for the first time ever, Lizzie wished she had heeded Red's warning to be careful of Tom.

Instead of loosening his grip on her hair, Tom tightened it, deep down inside - in the darker parts of his mind he had always kept from Liz - he smiled in sick satisfaction.

"I suggest that you let her go Keen, before I am forced to end your miserable excuse for a life." Red's voice was cold as he aimed a gun at Tom's head.

Tom stared in disbelief at the man he had met outside of the hospital after Liz's adoptive father had died, but did as he was told.

"Red," Lizzie gasped in relief, both from Tom's grip releasing her and from seeing Red for the first time in months. He looked so different, he obviously hadn't shaved in days and was wearing jeans and a hoodie, rather than his usual vest and dress pants.

"Hello Lizzie," he nodded in her direction, then refocused his attention on her husband. "Now Thomas, I suggest you leave, and don't come back unless you're sober." Red kept the gun trained on him. "Oh, and if you EVER hurt Lizzie again - drunk or sober - I will kill you, do you understand me?"

With one look into the familiar stranger's eyes, Tom knew he meant every word he said, so he swallowed slowly and left the house.

"Red, how did you know that-"

"I told you Lizzie that I would be there for you, no matter what, and I meant it."

She nodded, and in that moment, everything that had just happened - and had almost happened - hit her. Lizzie broke down, tears streaming down her face.

"Lizzie it's alright, he's gone and I promise you that you're safe, I won't let him hurt you ever again." He wasn't even smirking over being right about Tom, all that Red seemed to care about at that moment was consoling her as he rubbed up and down on her back, so Lizzie gave into it all and clung to the Concierge of Crime while she sobbed into his shoulder.

The next morning, she awoke alone in her bed upstairs. Was it all a dream, did any of it truly happen? Then she looked down to where nasty-looking bruises littered her arm. Lizzie sighed, in hopes of finding that Red had stayed while she had slept, she made her way downstairs. Her hopes were immediately dashed when she found an empty kitchen, no sign of Red anywhere.

Upset at not finding Red, Lizzie jerked opened the door of the refrigerator. It took a moment for her mind to process, but she slowly started to smile as she read, pulling the sticky note off of a carton of milk.

I will always be there for you, Lizzie, always.