This is a continuation from 2X10. It's so unbelievable :D But that doesn't matter. Anyway, hope someone enjoys! Can't wait for the next ep! EEEP! Need these two together!

Thank you so, so much for those who reviewed and stuff on my other story!

DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN THE BLACKLIST.

It was nearing on ten at night when Dembe walked quietly up the stairs and into the top room of the house, the sitting room. His boss had been silent for awhile now. On the drive home, before dinner, and at the dinner table. Raymond's mind was elsewhere, and Dembe was almost certain it had something, or everything to do with Elizabeth Keen.

He knocked softly on the open door. "Raymond."

"I know." Red replied, his voice hoarse and tired from their full on week. He was not only physically exhausted, his muscles achey and tight, but emotionally wired too. He was feeling a little vulnerable and he could admit, if only to himself, rejected. Staring out the window, he could see her cross the empty road, her hands stuffed in her navy coat pockets, a black beanie on her head covering the small bruise he had spotted earlier that day on the side of her forehead.

Dembe waited patiently for Reddington to elaborate, give him an order, but after a moment of continued silence and receiving nothing more, he asked, "What should I tell her?"

Lizzie slowed the pace of her walk as she neared his front door, and for a brief moment it looked as if she was going to turn back. Red's heart thudded in his chest, a rush of uncomfortable heat flushing his body. And he wasn't sure if it was because she was about to leave, or because she continued on, her small, delicate fist knocking determinedly on the front door. The sound echoed through the house, up the stairs and into airy space of the room. Dembe stood at his side and they both watched her.

She knocked again.

"I will answer," Red swallowed back the last of his drink, and placed it carefully on the nearby table. "Thank you for your help, Dembe. Get some rest."

Dembe gave him a small nod and retreated out of the room and down the stairs to his own room. He was also feeling bone-tired from the last couple of weeks and was looking forward to a good nights sleep.

Lizzie fiddled with the small device in her pocket, turning it around in her grip nervously as she waited for the door to open. Lights were on, he was home. She didn't really know why she was doing this. But it felt right. To finally end things...She needed to move on with her life, and that meant getting rid of things she didn't want, and people she didn't need. She was tired of being used. Hearing the lock turn, Lizzie swallowed the small lump that had been sitting in her throat since leaving her place.

"Lizzie."

Her gaze dropped instantly, finding it difficult to look at him, to give him her full attention. He wasn't allowed to see her hurt anymore. Shoving out her hand, she opened her palm. "Here."

Red tilted his head causally, his eyes narrowing as she refused to look at him. "Lizzie."

She glanced up at him, her eyelids blinking too quickly. "Take it, Red."

Catching her gaze, he gave her a small smile, an apology of sorts. Her words had barely registered with him until her outstretched hand shook faintly. His eyes travelled down, following the outline of her blushed cheek, down her pale neck then to her open palm. In it she held a tiny rectangle object.

"What is that?"

Lizzie let out a small burst of laughter. "I don't even know. The fulcrum? Something important to you, I guess. Maybe nothing."

Snapping his gaze back up to her face, he stared at her, his eyes wider, bewildered. "Where did you find it?"

"In my stuffed bunny. Basically the only thing I have from my childhood." She let out a small laugh again, but it came out pained and hollow. "Although, I suppose it's now been ruined too." She pictured the half ripped off head on her favorite soft toy.

She looked so crushed, hurt, that his voice failed him and it came out so low and whispered, he was afraid she wouldn't hear. "Lizzie."

"Can you just take it?" She said a little louder, desperately. Shoving her hand forward again. The tips of her fingers brushing his shirt. "I don't want it. And if it's what you've been looking for, then you can have it." She sniffed, past caring that she was crying in front of him. She had done it so often, what mattered for one more time? "Take it and leave."

Carefully, Red reached out his hand, afraid to touch her again incase she rebuffed him, but when his hand closed gently around her wrist she didn't flinch.

He held her wrist, didn't touch the object she held.

"I do care for you, Elizabeth. Don't ever think otherwise. This.." He looked down at the small object. He didn't have a clue what it was. It could quite possibly be the fulcrum. Hidden in her stuffed bunny of all things? An innocent child's bunny. It angered him. "This thing...however important it is to others, to me, is nothing on how important you are to me." His head shook, wanting her to understand him. Or hear him. Maybe she just wasn't listening properly.

"The thing is Red," Lizzie pulled her hand gently out of his grip, letting her hand slide across his own and slipping the small device into his palm before dropping her hand completely, her arm hanging loosely at her side. "The thing is that I don't believe you. I did believe you I think." She looked confused, her lips twisted to the side, her brow furrowed. As if she was still trying to work him out. "I thought that you were someone who actually cared for me..wanted me to have a life I deserve? Or whatever.." She chuckled, her voice breaking ever so slightly as she bit back a sob. "Which is crazy, right? Because you had no reason to. It's not that you wanted to protect me, to connect with me. You just wanted something. And maybe now you have it."

Red chewed the inside of his cheek so hard that he just about drew blood. "You're wrong." He responded seriously. His hand was still outstretched, but cold. So cold. The warmth of her hand replaced by the one thing that was apparently so important to him. The one thing that was meant to keep him alive.

"No," Lizzie stared him down, her gaze hard and unwavering. She took a step back, maintaining distance with him. "I'm right." She shrugged. "And I hope it's what you were looking for, or at least lead you towards it."

"Lizzie-"

She ignored the way he spoke her name, like he wanted to tell her everything, like he was hurting as well. She pushed it away. She turned and walked down the stairs, but then, she decided to turn around, and pull her beanie down low over her ears. As she took small steps backwards, facing him, she called out, "If it's nothing then just throw it away. And if I ever remember where this so called Fulcrum is. Don't worry. You'll be the first to know. I don't want you to feel like you have to stick around any longer than you have to."

"Hm," Red followed her, a small growl of protest escaping past his lips. "I don't want this. Take it back."

"You do." She replied, turning at the end of his driveway. God, why did she park so far away?

"Elizabeth, take it."

"No."

He reached forward and gripped her arm, "Stop."

She swung back around, whipping her hand out of his arm, the fury and hurt she felt all day, for even longer, the constant empty feeling she had, the loss, because of him, came bubbling to the surface. Her fists clenched. "You do want it, Red! Just admit it." She shouted at him angrily. "God dammit, stop lying to me."

"I don't want it." Red tried to calm her anger, he gave the device a little throw, dropping it on the pavement between them and he shrugged. He shrugged, his bare hands free and outstretched, another surrender to her. "Lizzie, I am telling you quite clearly. I do not want it."

Blinking in shock, Lizzie stared down at the small box he had thrown. He was absurd. It was sitting there on the pavement. She wasn't about to play hot potato with him. She took a breath to calm herself, her hands unclenched.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I've never seen it before." He answered truthfully.

"It could be the fulcrum, Red. What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make you understand, Lizzie. That you are wrong. So wrong, that-" He laughed, and he suddenly looked bright, happy, alive.. And he laughed. "That I even suggest you take this little..shall we call it a thing? We can call it a thing. I suggest you take it to Harold. Hand it in, Lizzie. Because I have no interest."

Lizzie frowned, this man was the most confusing person she had ever known. "I thought you needed it."

"There are things I need more."

"Like?"

His lips twitched into a smile. "Need you ask?"

Looking away, Lizzie wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand. "You wanted me to find it. You let me continue with hypnosis so I could find it."

Red swallowed, and shook his head. "Not for me."

"I want to remember." She said. "This thing..this doesn't help me remember."

"I know you do."

"And you can tell me," She said, hopeful. Still hopeful.

"I don't want to tell you, it's not important, Lizzie.." He watched a tear on her cheek. He watched it trail down her cheek. It was now hanging on her jaw ready to fall and he had such an urge to brush it away before it fell.

"You can't say that," Lizzie stepped forward instead of backwards. "You can't tell me it's not important because it's my life, Red. I'm the only one who was there who doesn't know."

"It will hurt you deeply, Lizzie."

And that was it.

He wasn't going to tell her.

Because it would hurt her.

Closing her eyes, Lizzie nodded. If she was ever going to find out, it wasn't going to be through Red. She looked down at her feet, the small device at the tip of her shoes. What should she do with it? Was Red serious? She raised her head again, surprised by how close Red stood to her. Bordering on her personal space, but she was use to it.

"What happens now, then?" She asked, almost rolling her eyes. Didn't she come here to tell him to go away? To leave her alone.

Red breathed out slowly, both his hands moving up to touch her shoulders. She followed the movement with her eyes, focussing on the way he hesitated, afraid she would push him away again. She didn't know what was going on between them. Their connection was the most puzzling thing in her life. More so than her blocked out memory.

His touch was so, so light.

His hand shook, and his thumb brushed her shoulder.

He stared at her, like there was no one else. Because there wasn't anyone else. The street was empty. Empty and cold, but her body was warm.

"Are you going to hug me?" She asked quietly.

"Would that be alright?" He responded.

"I'm hurting." She whispered.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." He stepped closer. "May I?"

"Okay."

Red gave her a small smile, and wasted no time in pulling her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He loved holding her. She let him, easily, and mimicked his movements by circling his back with her arms. She turned her head, and rested her cheek on his chest, inhaling deeply.

"Take it, Red." She murmured, after a moment of silence.

"No."

She felt his body relax at his own answer, his breathing slow down. She felt his hands move up her back and pull the beanie off her head. She felt his lips brush small kisses in her hair and she tried hard not to move. Not even the slightest movement because she didn't want him to stop. She held her breath. He was so gentle with her. She wondered if anyone knew there was no one more gentle than Red could be.

"Lizzie," He said quietly, ducking his head. He dropped her beanie. She pulled back from his chest, and watched him warily as his fingers touched the small bruise that had formed from Braxtons fist. He kissed it and her eyes fell close.

"I care about you." He kissed it again, his lips lingering on her skin. "I care about you, Lizzie."

"Okay," Her voice broke.