After this amazing episode it seems to me that there is a rather twisty love triangle developing – Red and Tom both love Lizzie. What happens in the weeks after Red's shooting? Will be shortish multi chapter fic.

Liz crossed the car park of her dingy motel at after 9pm. Her shoulders ached from having been hunched over her desk all day. There had been nothing but paperwork since the shooting. It was early days, but Liz was already starting to resent the calm after the storm. She felt powerless in her office, waiting for news, for something she could get her teeth into.

To make matters worse, the warehouse, her lack of contact, the information that came to light regarding her knowledge of the fulcrum – she realised her colleagues were finding it hard to trust her, and it hurt. At least in the field she knew where she was. Much as she had been flung into the field the day Reddington had walked into the post office, she now found it difficult to cope without the adrenaline surge she got when she was out there. Reddington. There hadn't been a whisper from him since he had been discharged from his secure wing at the hospital.

Instead, she had made do with clandestine meetings with Tom. He had promised her information, and although he always made himself available to her, so far she had received only snippets. Mostly about nefarious deals brokered by Reddington, but nothing that seemed to relate directly to her. The truth was they were getting closer. He hadn't said anything, but at times during their meetings she saw the way he looked at her and wondered if he thought he still had a chance with her. For a second she wondered it herself. But she couldn't love him after everything he had done to her, could she? The person she fell in love with didn't exist. He was dreamed up by him. Reddington.

Red. Ray. Reddington. She cursed her brain for throwing out all his names, as if her subconscious was telling her she had conflicted feelings towards him. After all this. She had to admit to herself that there had been times in the past when one look from him was enough to make her feel lightheaded. But then the truth came out about the Fulcrum, and Tom. And then she had held him while his life drained away and she suddenly felt as though she was losing everything.

As she approached the door to her miserable motel room her stomach clenched. The fedora was unmistakable. He was leaning nonchalantly against a sedan in the lot outside her block. She felt a flood of relief to see him on his feet, but it was tempered by frustration. The last time she had seen him he had looked her in the eye and admitted that, after all this, he was still hiding who she was from her.

He turned as she approached and gave her a soft smile. "Lizzie" he greeted her by widening his arms slightly, as if to say 'look, still standing!'.

She wrapped her arms around herself and approached him warily. "You're ok." She said flatly.

He laughed softly. "I hope you're not too disappointed." Then his face became serious. "I am ok, and in no small way that's because of you. Dembe told me everything. You were extraordinary, Lizzie." He paused. "And you must have questions."

She closed her eyes for a second, as if his words had hurt her. "What do you want, Reddington?"

Red nodded slightly and turned his head away. "You've been spending a lot of time with Tom." It wasn't a question.

"And?" she said incredulously. She saw his jaw clench fractionally as he turned back to face her.

"And unfortunately he's been whispering in your ear, about me. My business. I am concerned that dear Tom is insinuating himself into your life again with the promise of answers he cannot provide."

Liz felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Not only had he been spying on her, not only was he refusing to tell her the truth, he was now trying to block the only other chance she had of finding out about her past. She let out the breath she had been holding in a hiss of air.

"No. You do not get to make decisions for me anymore" she said firmly. "You put Tom in my life, now you have to deal with the consequences. Goodnight." She turned and started towards the door, feeling a slight pang as she recalled what had happened the last time she walked away from him. She wondered if he felt it too.

Red made a sound that was almost a growl. "Trust me I've been dealing with the consequences of Tom Keen for far too long already." He said through clenched teeth.

Liz continued towards the door.

"Lizzie! I'd rather you heard the truth from me now than were put in harm's way by Tom's lies." His voice was tight.

That stopped her in her tracks. She turned. "Why should I believe you now?" she whispered.

"I told you I would never lie to you. It's time. I'll give you as much as I can."

As Liz regarded him it occurred to her for the first time that Dembe was nowhere to be seen. Had he really come alone? Now? She cast her eyes around the lot.

"Did you drive yourself here?" She asked, still scanning the immediate area.

"Yes." He said simply, offering no explanation. She snapped.

"For God's sake! They are after you more than ever now! You were shot in the chest a couple of weeks ago – what the hell are you doing coming here alone?" She clasped her fingers behind her neck as panic began to seep in. "How long have you been here?"

He didn't answer, only tilted his head slightly and gave her a small smile.

She rolled her eyes. "You'd better come in before we have a repeat of last time."

"Yes that would be a good idea wouldn't it" he responded playfully.

As they stepped into the small room it occurred to Liz that somehow he had managed to make her feel guilty for keeping him waiting, endangering him. As though him being in her parking lot was her fault.

Red set his hat down on the dresser and sat in a chair near the door, regarding her thoughtfully.

"Would you like some tea?" Liz said a little helplessly.

"How about something stronger? I'm sure this establishment has a fine selection of bargain-basement spirits that will help loosen my tongue" he said dryly.

Liz raised an eyebrow and disappeared into the kitchenette. She returned with two tumblers of amber liquid and handed one to him wordlessly. He took a sip and a warm smile spread across his lips. Scotch. And definitely not bargain basement.

"Lizzie you certainly know how to make me feel at home."

"You certainly know how to make yourself at home" she responded with a weak smile.

It was small, but it was something. He recalled her distraught features when he had admitted to hiring Tom. Her panic as she had held her scarf to stem the flow of his blood. It had been a while since he had seen her smile, especially at him.

Liz sat on the edge of the bed with her tumbler, curling one leg under herself. For some inexplicable reason she felt comforted by his presence. Neither spoke for a while.

"I thought you were going to die." She said quietly.

His eyes softened and he lent forward. "It's alright Lizzie. I'm here. And I've survived worse!" He chuckled somewhat hollowly.

"Am I supposed to find that comforting?"

"No. You can take comfort in the fact that whatever happens to me you will be protected."

She sighed and after a second could no longer maintain eye contact, suddenly feeling trapped by his gaze. She had waited a long time to get answers, but now she felt paralyzed. She wanted to ask why, why he cared. But she realised that now it was within her grasp, she was afraid of the answer. She shifted on the bed.

"The director. When I saw him, he said I looked like my mother."

Red's eyes narrowed slightly. "That you do".

"Did you know her?"

"Not well. But enough to know you were everything to her."

"She didn't leave me? I thought she left me. I thought they both did." Liz fought back a sob, knowing she sounded like a little girl. "I saw her picture in your flat, holding me on the swing." Her voice cracked. The more she struggled to control her emotions the more they swelled to the surface. She closed her eyes and brought a hand up to her face to stem her tears, but before she realized he had left his chair, Red had caught her hand and taken it between his own. He sat on the bed beside her, holding her hand, stroking it with his thumb as the tears began to roll silently down her cheeks.

"Lizzie. Look at me."

She gave a quiet, shuddering sob, but could not meet his gaze.

Keeping her hand in his, he raised his other hand to her face, tucking her hair behind her ear and gently lifting her chin until their eyes met. She looked at him through thick dark lashes, her impossibly blue eyes swimming with tears.

"Lizzie have no doubt. You were loved. You are loved."