AN: Hey, y'all. I've been in a writing dry spell (like the Sahara). I have a zillion writing prompts pinned on Pinterest, so I challenged myself to string them into a story. I've had an idea kicking around in my head for a while and the challenge I issued to myself and the T. Earl King VI episode gave me the perfect opportunity to give it a shot. This is my first TBL fic. It'll be a little AU because of the OC but I hope you'll give it a shot.
1: Dropping Like Flies
The shot rang out, startling them all as a crimson stain bloomed across Earl King's white dress shirt where his black heart used to beat.
"Oh my God, what are the odds?" Red asked with a feigned chuckle.
"You monster," gasped Francis, the bespectacled son.
"Oh, I'm a monster? Perhaps you should speak to me more softly, then. Monsters are dangerous, and just now kings are dropping like flies."
He noticed that Lizzie managed to contain an eye roll. Barely. There'd be hell to pay for that comment later, he felt sure.
"I'll leave the three of you to your own misery. Avoid the yard," he said, moving around the desk. Lizzie lowered her pistol as he walked through her line of fire. "Be nice to your cell mate." Her pistol went back up as soon as he was clear. He'd have to compliment her on her tactical awareness later. "And whatever you do," he continued, taking the log book, "don't eat the franks and beans."
He turned his back, leaving the three men looking stupefied. Handing Lizzie his pistol and trusting her to have his back, he made his exit.
"Oh, and I don't need your lousy tux," he said as an afterthought, some venom in his words. "I want my clothes back."
It was chilly when they exited the Vicarage. What a pompous name. Red was back in his own clothes but noticeably subdued. Ressler's eyes fell on Liz as soon as they stepped out. He made his way through the crowd to them.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes running over her before glancing at Reddington. The shell shocked look on both their faces concerned him. He looked at the pistols hanging limply at her sides. "Jesus, Liz. That's a good way to get shot."
SWAT was crawling all over the scene and she was unidentified and carrying weapons. He took the guns and dismantled them, setting them on the hood of someone's unit. He motioned for the agent to tag and bag them and then shrugged out of his heavy FBI jacket. Big enough to go over his own suit jacket, it all but swallowed Liz. He motioned to the Suburban he and Samar had arrived in.
"We'll get you out of here soon. Okay?" he said, taking her shoulders. She nodded once, not meeting his eyes. He gave her shoulders a squeeze and strode off.
"Go ahead," Liz said to Red, motioning to the car. "I'll give the agent the gun information and then I'll be right there."
Wordlessly, he did as he was told. Liz's eyes clung to his back as he moved stiffly. She'd almost lost him tonight. The thought had her blinking back tears.
"Agent Keen? I'm sorry but…," the young agent motioned her over.
Wasn't it odd that she no longer considered herself a young agent? She gained more experience in a year with Red than she had the entire four years prior to that. The man had irrevocably changed her life. She didn't know what she would do without him but the fact that she'd come very close to finding out tonight scared the crap out of her.
She gave the agent all the information she could and finally moved to the SUV. Emotions roiled through her as she settled down into the warm vehicle. She shot Red a look as she dumped the ledger into her lap. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze for more than a moment.
"Never do that again."
In that moment, his voice was little more than a rumble. He looked so old. So tired. So human.
"You're welcome," she retorted, anger boiling to the surface. Was he really going to lecture her? After he scared the hell out of her?
"I'm serious. You can never do that again. Promise me."
She could see the dampness around his eyes and she knew that it was more than just a reaction to the cold. Just as she knew in that moment that it was a promise she would never—could never—make. She'd put herself on the line every single time he was in danger if it meant not losing him. Because today she almost did. Today she heard him breathe her name in final farewell, a final prayer. Not The Fulcrum. Not Naomi. Not Jennifer. Lizzie.
"We took down dozens of wanted criminals. Recovered millions of dollars in stolen property and saved innocent lives," she stated, trying to draw his attention away from the promise. To make him see something bigger. But really, was there anything bigger than the two of them in that moment? She just needed to distract him. She could sense that if he thought she'd risk herself to save him again, he'd disappear without a trace. She couldn't deal with that.
"I'm not talking about that."
He wasn't distracted by her statement of fact. His voice was rougher than she'd ever heard it, as if he was trying to talk around a knot identical to the one lodged in her own throat. She could feel the tears coming even as she tried valiantly to hold them back.
"You," she said with realization. Her heart shattering as the truth rang between them. "You're talking about you."
The fire was gone. It was being replaced with suffocating, soul-wrenching pity. Pity she knew he'd reject and resent, but pity all the same. It almost brought her to her knees to realize how vulnerable this paragon of strength really was. His face was unmoving under her scrutiny, his countenance like nothing she'd ever seen in him before.
"Wow. You are so damaged. You can't accept help from anyone. Has anyone ever helped you?" Her eyes began to fill at the thought. "Is that why you are the way you are? Because you don't feel deserving of it? Is that why you can't be vulnerable for one second?"
She knew as she asked the questions that they were undeniably true. His face, his eyes, his very soul lay naked before her.
"I risked my life for you because I care about you," she said carefully. Clearly. Never breaking their gaze. He must hear her. He must understand what he means to her. This was no longer a game. A diversion. He was of consequence to her and he needed to understand that. "Deal with that."
The tears finally came and the silence was deafening. Had she said too much? Had she chased him away?
"And when someone does something nice, you're supposed to say 'thank you.'"
The joke fell flat even to her own ears but it was an olive branch and he knew it.
"Thank you," he managed tightly, accepting the peace offering.
"You're welcome."
"But never do it again."
His eyes were as full as hers and he tried valiantly not to lose the tenuous hold on his emotions in front of her. She wanted to hold him and tell him that it would be okay. That they'd be okay. That they had each other now. But she didn't. She turned her face away and allowed him to have his moment even as a tear chased down her own cheek.
It is many hours later when Ress finally takes Liz back to her crappy hotel. Red's right. She can't go on living like this.
Red.
"We almost lost him tonight, Ress," she says quietly.
"We almost lost you too," he observes. She shakes her head tiredly.
"I'm serious."
There is gravity in her face that he hasn't seen before. Her makeup is smudged and her hair falls wildly in curls around her face from where her up-do has been loosed. But beneath that, he sees a change in her. She isn't the idealistic, naïve agent he saw that first day—the one who giggled in Cooper's office that first day. Somewhere along the way they've become friends. Best friends. And she's had enough pain and disappointment in her life this year. Some days he doesn't know how they keep going. Except he does. Somewhere along the way, they've become a team and they keep each other going.
"Talk to me," he says, knowing she has something on her mind.
"We need to get him help. Back up."
"You. Dembe. Hell, even me. He has people."
"We're a liability. People know he's working with the FBI now. Just like they know Dembe is his bodyguard of sorts. He needs someone new. Someone we can trust but who isn't involved in our operation."
"Actually, I think I might have a solution," Ress says after a moment, his voice soft with thought. "Let me work on it and I'll let you know."
