Chapter 1
Heart pounding, legs pumping, feet pushing, Liz is running.
She is running down a sidewalk in Bethesda because Red called, Red called her. Red, who up and disappeared from his makeshift mobile hospital after being given the antidote to the poison without so much as talking to her first, called her. He's called her and he's in his apartment and he wants to see her. And Liz figures that's good because, boy, does she have some words for him. He was just poisoned not 72 hours ago and she was fighting to save him and as soon as he's cured he just up and disappears? No. No, that will not do.
So she's running towards Red's apartment building to yell at him for not being poisoned to death and she parked eight blocks away because she didn't have enough patience to find anything closer because she wanted to feel like she was actually making progress, actually getting closer to him because he very nearly died and yeah, maybe she's a little desperate.
She sees the building now and thank god because it's been a hell of a day and her feet are starting to hurt but somehow she doesn't want to stop running.
Getting closer, she thinks maybe she should slow down, she's going to crash right into the door at this rate but for some reason the thought of that doesn't seem to bother her too much and maybe a good crash is what she needs to see straight because Red almost died, again -
But no. He's right in there and he'd be upset to see her all banged up so she slows just enough to not crash and instead yanks the door open hard enough to slam it into the opposite wall with a bang and shit well at least it was the door and not her and where are the stairs?
She doesn't have nearly enough patience to ride the elevator to the third floor when she can keep moving, keep air moving in and out of her lungs, keep her legs working, towards Red who is just upstairs.
She races up the stairs, nearly tripping about halfway up and, no, face planting into solid cement stairs would be worse than crashing into a door so maybe she should slow down.
But there, a door with a number three on it, thank god, almost there, and she's shoving the door open, flying out of the endless stairwell, barely sparing a thought to anyone who might be on the other side because Red was poisoned for god's sake and, oh, there's his door.
She skids to a stop in front of his apartment but somehow feels as if she's still moving, isn't that odd, how far did she run? But who cares, Red is on the other side of this door, so she knocks and just keeps knocking and wow that's rude and she hates it when people do that but her hand won't stop knocking and why is that?
And then the door is being wrenched open and there is Red, pale, drawn, exhausted, but there, smiling tiredly at her and oh Red.
And before she knows it, she's throwing her arms around him without any regard to his current physical state and he's warm and good smelling and right there and she feels herself slowing down, her brain catching up with her body, or maybe her body is catching up with her brain, who knows, but it feels better.
(And perhaps the sight of Red, strangely small and quiet, pale and weak, so unlike his usual magnetic and boisterous self, sitting on the stairs in the Post Office because he was too tired to stand and talk at the same time scared her more than she first realized.
She almost lost him.)
But no more of that, he is here and she is here and the world feels right again.
Liz breaths in deeply and lets it out slowly.
Ah.
But then she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings again - how long had she been stuck inside her own head like that? - and she realizes Red, though his arms are wrapped loosely around her waist, is horribly tense in her arms, and his breathing is shallow, and - she pulls back with a jerk - he is wincing and oh no.
"Oh, Red, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think, are you alright? Let's get you inside, god, I'm such an idiot, you must feel awful, I'm sorry -"
And she is ushering Red inside his own apartment like an overbearing mother hen, suddenly unable to stop talking even though her voice is strangely high-pitched and she's out of breath from all that running and she's unintentionally talking right over him every time he tries to open his mouth and why can't she stop talking?
" - and you can't just go answering the door in your state, you're probably still weak and where's your antidote, do you have to keep taking that, I didn't get a chance to talk to the doctor, how - "
"Lizzie!"
And he finally manages to interrupt her but it's not the volume or power of his interjection that startles her into silence, it's the lack thereof. His voice is so frail and quiet that she can't believe it's really his and she only stops talking to make sure because she saw his lips move, didn't she?
"Lizzie, please. I'm fine. A little tired but nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Alright?" His voice scratches awfully on the last word, contradicting his claim completely.
"Um, alright," she says, her brow furrowing, feeling a little knocked off her feet by his downplaying being poisoned, "I just, uh, are you sure? I mean, you disappeared before any of us could come see you and we weren't sure - "
"Yes, Lizzie, I'm sure. I may be under the weather for a few days but it's nothing serious. In fact, that's why I asked you to come by, I wanted to update you on the situation so you could relay things to the taskforce in my stead. My team and I will be - "
"Wait, that's it?" She can't help but interrupt him because is this really happening?
"I'm sorry?" He inquires, unfailingly polite even as he moves away from her and sits down rather heavily on the couch, letting out a puff of air that's almost a groan because he was just fucking poisoned.
"We're not going to talk about the fact that you just barely survived the last 48 hours?"
"Well, I'm not sure why we would. It's not the first time it's happened and, after all, everything turned out fine." He shrugs carelessly.
She stares.
"Everything turned out fine? Fine?" Her voice sounds a little screechy now but she can't find it in herself to care because is he serious? "You vanished from a mobile hospital four seconds after being cured of a deadly poison without so much as saying hey because everything is fine?" Wow, that sounds even more ridiculous when she says it out loud.
"Why do I have to talk to you first? You're not my mother."
The childish remark hits her like a slap in the face. She blinks and turns away from him, starting to pace around the living room.
"Well, excuse me for caring about what happens to you after you've been poisoned!" She snaps, her voice starting soft and quickly growing into something louder and more like hurt.
"Oh, you care about what happens to me? That's new." He mumbles, his hoarse voice cracking a little at the end.
She stares at him, her mouth hanging open. Red rises slowly from the couch, apparently feeling the same need as Liz to get up and move around, despite his obvious fatigue. He walks to the kitchen, head bowed, seemingly gearing up to say something.
Finally, he lets it all out in one short breath, talking faster than he usually does, not looking at her. "Tell me, Lizzie, how is what I did any worse than what you did to get to Cuba?"
Liz almost collapses on the carpeted floor.
"Seriously? You're going to bring that up right now?" She can't believe this.
"Well, when else should I bring it up, now seems like the perfect time - "
" - and maybe it's fitting but why can't we focus on thing at a time and - "
" - the hypocrisy permeating the room is just sickening and how - "
" - but you really think you're so god damn perfect - "
And their voices start to overlap, neither listening to the other, weeks of tension and anger and bitterness spilling out of their mouths and into the room but suddenly Liz realizes that her voice is getting louder as she hurls accusations and insults but Red's is getting softer by the same amount and that's strange, why -
But he can't get words out now and her own fizzle on the way from her brain to her mouth because what's wrong -
And he's starting to struggle for air and he's grasping the counter and he's losing all color in his face and oh no -
Liz knows an asthma attack when she sees one - Sam had many after he quit smoking - but Red isn't normally asthmatic so he doesn't have an inhaler does he but he can't breathe and what is she supposed to do now -
She barely makes it to the kitchen in time to save him from a nasty collision with the linoleum as he tumbles to the floor, wheezing horribly and oh no, what -
Oh Red.