Hi, I am still writing my other story I just had this idea which I am not sure if anyone will like. :) Sorry if my English is bad in advance!

One Man and A Baby

The sound of a baby's distressed, high-pitched wailing roused Red from his drunken slumber on the armchair; A screeching noise so loud that anyone within a three-meter radius could have heard it. He sat upright at once, stumbling to his feet. Perhaps he had had too much Opium over the months that it was causing him to hallucinate? He wondered. But the sounds of a crying baby did not go away; If anything, they grew louder and more piercing as he staggered along the hallway towards the front door of the safe-house.

When he fumbled with his hand around the knob, finally wrenching the front door open, he was greeted with a blast of icy cold midnight air. When he looked down at the ground, it all made sense then. He hadn't been dreaming lucidly. There was a child, and that small child had been dumped on the doorstep, wrapped in a bundle of pink sheets.

In a sheer moment of panic, Red glanced out, searching for the parents the child belonged to. When he could not make anyone out in the darkness, he looked down at the child again, the child who was seemingly a baby girl if the pink blankets were anything to go by.

His heart clenched at the sight of the babies scrunched up, pained face as it wailed, it's skin pink from both the frigidity of the evening air as well as how prolonged its crying had been. A bag lay beside her on the mat. Red thought he recognized the tiny features of the baby girl, and when he bent down, moving both hands underneath the baby awkwardly, bringing her up to cradle her against his chest and into the warmth of his jacket, it was as if what had happened with Lizzy was haunting him all over again.

"Agnes?" He whispered in shock, affection trickling throughout him despite his half-drunken state. A fond smile crossed his lips as the child seemed to immediately settle down in his arms, her crying fading off with a dull grunt. She stared up at him silently with dark, slit eyes of contentment and Red stared back at her, a hoarse laugh escaping his throat.

Surely he had to be dreaming?

In his foggy brain, he vaguely recalled Jacob warning him to stay away from Agnes, that he would be having nothing to do with the child. And could he really blame Jacob for having such an adverse reaction and warning him away? He knew that, try as he might to keep Lizzy safe, it had all been his fault. The cause of her death lay on his shoulders, and his alone. But what of her child? Why was she here, on his doorstep? Where on earth was Jacob?

It had been a long time since Red had looked after a child as young as she, yet as if mechanically, he remembered what to do at once and the role seemed to slide back into place easily like a well-worn glove. He hushed Agnes gently as he looked around again, startled, stepping outside the front door. Something resembling paper crunched beneath the tip of his shoe and as he glanced down, he saw that an envelope had been left there.

The difficult part came next of bending down to grab the letter and the bag with a three pound baby in his arms. He was not as young or as fit as he once was, and bending down was going to be hell on his knees, Red could tell. But miraculously, he managed, using one arm to hold Agnes close and to support her body in the blankets as he managed to pick up both the letter and the bag with the other, sliding the strap over his shoulder. The bag was heavy, weighing him down, but he found himself hoping to God that it had everything he needed in it to take care of a child.

"Let's go inside and get you warm, shall we?" He suggested to Agnes gently, another tender laugh escaping him when she yawned, one tiny hand moving towards her chin. "Yes, you must be tired, sweetheart. Let's get you inside."

He carried her inside, walking in deliberate, slow movements as not to startle her. He could tell that she was beginning to settle down, and that it had more than likely been the fact that she had been left outside in the cold that had affected her. The entire situation he had found himself in, the thought that Jacob would do this to Lizzy's and his child, that he would abandon her and just leave her on the front doorstep where Red was residing... it was incomprehensible.

He made a few shushing noises as he carefully sank into the armchair, rocking Agnes slightly with one arm while dropping the bag on the floor. Unzipped, he could see the canister of baby formula in there, as well as diapers and bottles. He hadn't been left completely unprepared, at least. The fireplace had been on for a few hours in the house, and no doubt, she would now be feeling content and soothed over the warmth in the room. While rocking Agnes gently, Red managed to thumb the envelope open. He yanked the letter out, unfolding it.

Reddington,

I've made the decision that I am not fit to raise my daughter alone. Without Liz, I don't want to.

For everything you've put us through- for everything you've put Liz through- I feel that you deserve this. Her life is in your hands now. Liz died because of you, and this is what you get for taking a child's mother away from her. Keep her safe for me and Liz.

Jacob.

Red felt the blood drain from his face as he reread the handwritten letter several times, trying to make sense of it all. So Jacob had decided he hadn't wanted to be a father anymore. Lizzy was gone, and consequently the idea of raising his daughter on his own without her mother had become too much for him. Red thought he could understand, though it did not make him feel any less animosity towards the man Lizzy had chosen as her partner in life; There was nothing more simultaneously terrifying and equally rewarding as having to raise a child. But to abandon that child?

Red felt hot pricks of moisture gather in his eyes as he dropped the letter onto the table, turning his gaze to the baby girl that he had curled up in his arm, the blankets wrapped around her, keeping her snug and warm. Such overwhelming emotions passed through him at the sight of her, too many to take. Sadness for what the father had done to the child. Despair that her mother had been taken away from her, a life cut too short.

But above all that, he felt wonder swell up his heart. Sheer wonder and amazement at just who he was holding in front of him; When he inspected Agnes's tiny facial features carefully, he thought he could see Lizzy in her. Already and so soon, he could see parts of Lizzy in this small child.

She was that one important part of Lizzy that she had left behind. A piece of her born into the world, a part of her that would live and carry on while the love of his life ceased to.

And he was holding her. He was holding the last piece of Lizzy that was left in the world. The moment felt so terribly poignant and bittersweet.

"Hello, sweetheart," Red whispered gently, his voice shaking with vulnerability, as Agnes peered up at him through half-slit, sleepy eyes. "Look at you." He slid the pink beanie that she was wearing off with his fingers with the utmost care from her scalp, her head abundant with thick, dark black hair. "You look so much like your mother, Agnes. So much like her. You're beautiful."

And now her father had abandoned her. Her father had deserted the one last, living reminder of Lizzy that was left in this world.