A/N: Several years ago while I was still in high school I had a fairly vivid dream that I found a bit strange. I wrote what I could remember down in a journal, and every once in a while, I am struck by how strange, yet serene it felt. This one shot is loosely based on that dream, and I am hoping to dear God that I am not making a mistake in posting it. I hope you guys enjoy it-and as many of you know the characters are just borrowed.
Breathing Space
Work Song by Hozier
Red bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
The smoke in the air was heavy and everything looked grey. Dirty air filled his lungs, and he could feel an invisible hand grabbing his heart in a painful clench. He felt as if he was suffocating, falling into the deepest recesses of a black hole and drowning. No matter how hard he tried to inch towards the light in the dark void, no matter how far he stretched his hands towards it he kept falling…kept drowning.
Cops stood near the open doors of the dust covered cruisers, talking to dispatchers, and barking at the nosy spectators trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Ash gently floated down from the sky like snow, frosting over ambulances and streets. The whole block had been caught in the crossfire of their standoff with the final Blacklister. Six months of searching, negotiations, threats, and nearly getting his head cut off several times had ended after Red managed to singlehandedly clear out a whole apartment building, blowing it to bits with the Blacklister and himself in it. He didn't take note of the fact that he had been reckless with his life-and not for the first time either.
But for a brief moment, as Red was staring at the butchered face of the man in front of him- the man who had started it all from the fire to the death of his daughter- he had forgotten about Lizzie and how much he had wanted to tell her. How he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving and caring for her, reassuring her that unlike the rest, he would never leave her side no matter what. The only thought lingering on Red's mind as he held his thumb over the detonator inside the building was getting rid of John Earl Thompson… keeping her from seeing him…preventing him from ever breathing the same air that she did. So without another moment's hesitation, he had pressed the button, blowing Thompson to bits.
It wasn't until he'd regained consciousness that Red realized what he had done. He found himself lying in a heap of rubble of what had once been the lobby. When he managed to dig himself out of the debris, Red stumbled outside and saw the chaos that had come shortly after the explosion.
Among the confusion, beyond the overturned cars and bullet riddled cabs, he could see her in the arms of Ressler. Her face was smudged with tears and ash. She seemed so small and vulnerable.
He was about to go to her. Gather her up against his chest and hold her, whispering promises of love and safety into her ear. But before his shoe could even touch the pavement, Red stopped himself short.
She was burying her face in the red headed agent's chest now, sobbing.
Red cocked his head to the side, curious at the display, heart cracking over the already jagged edges. Were those tears that were pouring down her face meant for him? Was she mourning the possibility that he might be dead?
In the time that Red had come into Lizzie's life, without warning, unannounced she had only sought comfort from him a handful of times. No matter how close he managed to get to her, no matter how much of her trust he earned she was still hesitant to let him see all of her. There was always something holding her back. Something he did or the fear of getting hurt again. If it wasn't one thing, it was the other…or sometimes even both. She refused to completely fall apart in front of the Monster, Raymond Reddington.
He knew why of course. She had lost far too much the moment they sat face to face. The lovely life she thought she had built for herself had faded away like a sunset in the horizon. He was the horizon that was pulling that light down towards the earth. He didn't want to do that to her anymore.
And yet...he wondered if she'd ever seek the likes of him.
Red didn't realize he was walking towards her until he was standing in front of them.
"Please...don't cry...I'm right here Lizzie," he whispered near her ear. The palm of his hand passed over the back of her neck…a butterfly's wings
Red watched as Ressler caught his gaze in surprise. He hoped in his heart of hearts that the man was up to the challenge that he was throwing on his lap. Red gave the young man a curt nod as Lizzie drew in a shuddering breath.
When Lizzie had finally mustered enough courage to turn around, Raymond Reddington had disappeared into the sea of people.
T.B.L
A Life So Changed
Italy. Paris. Rome. Scotland.
Red ran. He ran past the wreckage, the cars, and the people. He left his heart behind, threw happiness into the wind, took off into the clouds thinking he might find some peace there.
Some days they would find themselves in the City of Lights or he would be walking among the vineyards of his villa. Some mornings Red would rise with the sun, the marvelous sky set ablaze, he would cut through fields of grass, pumping his legs, searching for something out there.
Something was calling his name…his soul.
The fields would come to sudden stops at cliffs looking over the sea. It was all he could do to keep from stumbling over the edge. Cold wind would sweep around him, and sometimes he could swear that he could hear her cries.
Red liked going out at night, surrounding himself with laughter, music, and good wine. He liked to watch Dembe get dragged out onto the dance floor by pretty women, forcing him to sway to the sensual music that filled the night, illuminated by the yellow glow of the paper lanterns strung up overhead. Red preferred to sit and stare at the sparkling stars, refusing to dance with any woman but her...
All the while, he wondered if she'd be waiting for him.
T.B.L. T.B.L. T.B.L.
Haiku Thomas Newman
Lizzie quit the task force six months after he disappeared.
She still chastised herself for having been so slow to recognize his voice that day. She hadn't even turned around in time to catch a glimpse of him….at the very least a shadow. She had been so consumed by her grief for him that she had failed to realize the moment he had stood right behind her.
Ressler assured her that Red wanted her to be free of him. To start new. He had left to keep her safe. But she couldn't bring herself to care. What was there to keep her safe from? Every last person on the list was either locked up or dead. Red had dismantled his business over the last few years, taking down politicians and building up safe villages for the needy in the process. Yet the media failed to recognize the way Raymond Reddington had saved countless governments from themselves with a firm tip of his hand.
Now all she wanted was to be free; to live her life and appreciate the beauty of what was around her the way Red had so often tried to teach her.
This was her chance to do just that...
T.B.L. T.B.L. T.B.L.
Silver Leaves James Newton Howard
"Cuánto quiere por los duraznos hoy Señor Évora?"
Red held the orange peach to his nose and inhaled its sweet scent.
The small gray old man smiled at him. "Quince pesos la libra Don Raymundo."
"Excelente! Dame diez por favor," Red handed the old vendor fifteen pounds in currency at took the bag of peaches from him. "Muchos gracias! Que tengas un buen día Señor Évora!"
Red grabbed the bag after paying for the fruit and leisurely made his way through the bustling people.
Jalisco was a magnificent place to attend the outdoor markets, especially when the local ranchers brought their freshly picked produce.
As a boy, Red had picked up the odd job with his neighbors when harvesting season rolled around in Wyoming. He would stand on top of crates, charming the old ladies, and stern men in suits into buy goat's milk and cheese from the stalls. The people loved him for it and it brought a pretty penny into his pocket to spend on trading cards.
Being here amongst the noise of merchants, chickens, and tourists brought back memories of that time. It made him feel as if not much had changed since he was twelve.
Naturally, Red stood out like a sore thumb dressed in his vest and trousers, his fedora tipped at an angle on his head. He towered over most of the people around him. Many of the people here were used to having him around already, having seen him wander about several times before. His familiarity with their culture and the big joyous laughter entertained them, thus they had no objections to his questions and whole heartedly welcomed his presence.
Children often trailed behind him in the hopes that he would tell them a story, or show them one of his magic tricks that he had picked up during his travels. He had first interacted with the kids when he had seen a shabby drug dealer rough up a young boy for running into him during a transaction. The man had grabbed the boy by the cuff of the neck, slapping him and then kicking his rear end so that he sprawled across the dirt road right as an oncoming car was passing by. Red had snatched the boy from the ground a second before his brains became decoration for the road. The townspeople watched as Red turned to the drug dealer with a glint in his eye with Dembe flanking him several feet away. In one swift motion, Red caught the man by the shirt, flinging him to the ground and kicking him in the ass several times until he managed to scramble up and escape with Dembe hot on his heels.
Since then, Red and Dembe were always greeted by hordes of running little bodies that crowded around their waists as Red tried to avoid the hands that would try to reach for his hat. Cheers often erupted whenever Red dug into his pocket and showered the kids with coins.
Red felt a pair of tiny hands grasp onto his bicep. He lifted his arm up high.
"Lupita! How are you?" He encouraged the little girl to practice her broken English as often as she could.
Lupita giggled and swung her small body back and forth while dangling from his arm.
"Hola Dõn Reddington!" He raised his brow at her and looked at her pointedly. Lupita sobered immediately and scrunched her face in concentration. "I am fi-ine. How are you?"
Red's face broke out in a wide grin. "Absolutely ecstatic now that you're here sweetheart! Where are your friends today? Tus amigos?"
"No sé Mr. Reddington. I don't know. A señora came to see you."
Red furrowed his brow. "Una señora? Quien Lupita?"
"I don't-" she frowned. "No sé. She was very beu-tiful."
"Dónde está?" Red asked her as he brought her a bit more level to his gaze as she was still latched onto his arm like a lemur, swinging her sandled feet to and fro. She let go of him with one arm and pointed down the street near the bunched up stalls.
Red gathered Lupita into his arms and peered through the crowds of people. A man pulling a horse and cart behind him crossed his line of vision for a moment before disappearing into sea of bright colors and people again.
And suddenly, like a breath of fresh air and a burst of warm, gratifying sunlight, he saw her, dressed in a white sundress. She wore a purple flower in her luscious brown hair. Her skin radiated pure beauty that he almost felt like crying.
"Dõn Raymundo, why are you crying?" Lupita cupped his cheek with her small hand.
Red huffed and grinned at her. "Because I'm terribly happy Lupita," he told her, watching Lizzie's every move.
He pressed a kiss to the little girl's cheek and set her down beside him. Lizzie was leaning towards an old woman negotiating the price of an electrifying blue scarf she was holding. Then as though aware of his presence already Lizzie locked eyes with Red, grinning before continuing her discussion with the diminutive woman.
All at once, Red felt as if all the joy the world had been withholding from him had suddenly been bottled up in a glass vial and serenely hung around his neck close to his heart.
With feet that felt light as air, he somehow began floating towards her. He felt no control over his muscles. In that moment he could swear his soul had found her long ago, and his body was only catching up to it.
She turned to him with a proud smile and bright eyes.
"Lizzie," he breathed when he was finally in front of her. He wanted to reach out and touch her but found that at that precise moment, he really could not move.
"Red," she said softly as she raised her fingers to his cheek and ghosted the tips down his jaw.
"You came," he said in a wavering voice.
She nodded and cocked her eyebrows at him. "I did."
He shifted his weight and his eye twitched. He worked his mouth for a moment, wanting to say something more but he couldn't string anything together that would convey how he felt at that moment.
"You came," he said again, this time in a hoarse tone.
He dared to inch towards her, closing the small distance between them. With a hitch of his breath, he let his head lean close to hers, pressing them together. He closed his eyes as the sun cast a bright glow between their forms as if nature itself was framing their reunion for the world to see.
"It's okay Red…" Lizzie whispered. He felt her warm breath touch his skin. "I'm here."
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He refused to open his eyes, reveling in the moment.
Ever so slowly, Lizzie brushed her lips against his full ones in a feather light kiss. Red felt a dam open within him, and within seconds had her in a firm embrace, hands running down the expanse of her back. He crushed his lips against hers, it felt as if he was relearning how to breath. As if he was being reborn.
They both stood there while people walked around them, feeling as if their hearts could finally stop running for the first time in months.
Fin.
