Title: Her Person
Author: thousand-miles
Rating: T
Disclaimer:I don't own these wonderful characters.
A/N: I am not really sure where this came from nor do I know what is going to happen. Usually it is Red doing all the comforting but I want it to be the other way round. I want Liz to take care if Red.
Chapter one
He was her person. Her true north, her body yearned for his and she only ever felt whole when she was with him. When he wasn't there it felt like a vital part of her was missing. When she was in need, he was there with open arms, ready to give her whatever comfort she needed. She felt all that, yet had never told him so. It felt safer to admire and love from afar than take the risk of rejection. She was brought out of her musings by the ringing of her cellphone.
"Agent Keen." It was Dembe's soft voice that greeted her.
"Dembe?" She was surprised. Dembe never called her.
"I need your assistance with Raymond."
"What's wrong?" She hadn't talked to him for a week. She hadn't even known he was back or what he had been up to. He had been distant the last time she'd seen him. She wondered if she'd done something wrong, made him angry somehow.
"I am not entirely sure, but he is not well."
"What do you mean? Where have you two been?"
"I was here. Raymond was away."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"Where was he?"
"I don't know. He didn't tell me."
"Are you sure you need my help? I'm not sure I'm the right person." She hesitated.
"For Raymond you are the only person."
Unsure of how to respond, Lizzie stayed silent. Dembe took that silence to give her the adress and hung up fully expecting her to come to them.
It took her some time to decide wether to help him or not. It wasn't that she didn't want to help him, it was that she doubted if she really could. Hesitantly she knocked the door which opened immediately.
"I am happy you are here Agent Keen."
"Call me Liz, okay?" She'd asked him to call her that many times already but Dembe seemed to find it inappropiate or something.
Dembe nodded and stepped aside to let Lizzie into the house. "He's upstairs. First room on your right."
"Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"No." Dembe shook his head. "He won't talk."
"And you think he'll talk to me?" She shook her head. "I think I'm the last person he'll want to see or talk too."
"You are just what he needs, who he needs." He gently pushed the Agent towards the stairs and left her alone.
She watched him leave and looked up the stairs. She took a deep breath hoping it would calm her nerves. Standing at the door that Dembe had steered her towards she listened for any sounds, but didn't hear anything. Maybe he was asleep? Maybe it was best if she left? That's when she heard a stumble on the other side and decided not to leave.
Carefully she opened the door and peered inside. The room was dark and her eyes had to adjust to the lack of light. Stepping inside she softly closed the door behind her. Then she finally saw him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, shoulders slumped. His body language screamed utter defeat. She'd never seen him like this before. What happened to him? She quietly walked further into the room. There was no acknowledgement from him that he knew she was there. She was unsure how to proceed. She couldn't just stand there though. She approached the bed and sat down next to him. Still he didn't acknowledge her presence. For a while they sat in silence, the only sounds in the dark room their breaths. Needing to offer him as well as herself some comfort she shifted closer. Reaching out she lay her hand on his tigh. She waited patiently hoping he would react to her touch. When nothing happened she wanted to pull away, but that was when his hand covered hers. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
The silence continued, but she felt less unwelcome. She hoped their contact brought him some comfort. When he squeezed her hand she knew it did. She still didn't know what to say. Usually Red did most of the talking. To be with him when he was like this, she didn't know what to say or do. Yet she wanted to be his person, like he was hers. What he gave her in so many ways, she wanted to give him. She turned her hand, which was covered by Red's, her palm now upwards. It warmed her heart that he immediately threaded his fingers through hers. She heard his soft exhale. His thumb caressed her skin softly. Somehow, someway she was indeed bringing him comfort.
Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness. She looked at him and saw his disheveled look for the first time. His shirt was rumpled and and the top buttons open. Though she never did mind a glance at his chest and chest hair, but not when he looked like this, when it was clear he hadn't taken care of himself. His pants were just as disheveled. But when she looked at him, looked at his face, she truly realised that whatever had happened, had really shook him up. He hadn't shaved for days, an actual beard adorning his face. If it were any other situation she might have appreciated the rough look. Now she didn't. He looked as if he hadn't taken care of himself and that wasn't like him at all. She had the urge to reach out and lay her hand against his rough cheek. But most of all she saw grief and pain. She couldn't see his eyes and part of her was glad. She didn't know if she could handle the pain she knew she would find in them. Her heart broke for him. She bowed her head and a silent tear ran down her cheek.
Then he released her hand and she feared he was going to push her away. He surprised her by putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side. And as if it was the most natural thing to do she put her head on his shoulder and he put his head on top of hers.
"Where have you been, Red?"
TBC...
