They were on the run. Neither of them talked nor started an attempt to talk. Not in the car, in the plane and again in a car.
Her telling him, that she remembered everything what happened that night, left him speechless. Not only speechless, he seemed more in thoughts than usually. "But I failed", the sound of his voice, the features on his face, told her enough to recognize he was in pain. He failed her, and himself in a way.. The man who admitted that he was good at being a sin eater only some hours before, failed in his main task, keeping her safe, eating her sins. Making her happy out of the shadows, pulling strings to smooth the path for her. All he did seemed to have one purpose: giving her the life she deserved. At this moment sitting beside him in the car, she wasn't sure what she really deserved and who he actually was.
They were equal now, she killed Connolly- in the eyes of the government she betrayed her country – like him all those years ago. It was a strange feeling not having a place like home or place to go after all.
Having a home, a place she felt like herself, where she was comfortable and could be herself without wearing a mask, without pretending. Yawning from the exhausting journey she put her head on the window of the car. Only one thought on her mind: can I be at home ever again?
Thoughts running through his mind, he could not give her the comfort she seeks right now. Too many different scenarios playing in his head. Thinking of what might happen, what the cabal, his and now their enemies have in mind for them. When they neared the place they would stay for a couple of days, the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains, leaving some rays of light falling through the woods. He looked on his right side. She was asleep, soundly, not even the rocky road could wake her up. He watched her features, her face, and the way her head moved a little while she was dreaming. A small smile appeared on his face and he could not resist..He was selfish in this moment. He wanted to be close to her and not only sitting next to her. He shifted in this seat, took of his jacket and folded it together like a pillow. He then pulled her softly against him, caressing smoothly over her head and hair. She opened her eyes a little and eyed him. After some moments she smiled, then put her head on his jacket like he intended it to. With her fingers she searched for his hand, and when she finally found it, she squeezed it until she doze off.
When they arrived at their destination, he brought her into the safe house and laid her down on the bed. He left and went to the living room to pour himself a drink. In those moments he missed Dembe truly, not as bodyguard but as a brother and friend. They could silently sit together or enjoy a chess game. He would calm him, talk about some news that he didn't catch while reading the newspapers or he would recommend a book he recently had read. He wasn't sure his plan, involving the journalists would succeed, if anyone of them would be ready, prepared and willing to trust him and leak the information he gave them. He moved the pawns on the chess board. He considered to make a last move, but decided against it. He was too tired to play with himself, he didn't pay enough attention and did not think of every consequence his next move could have.
He finished his drink, went to the kitchen and put the glass on the counter. He opened the faucet and let the water running through his hands and splashed it in his face. He leaned over the sink with his forearms on the edge, without warning two warm arms where around his middle section and hugged him tightly. For a moment he froze, because he wasn't prepared but soon relaxed a little, when he recognize her perfume and put his hand on hers.
"Lizzie…." he whispered almost unheard by her. She did not respond but when her fingers moved tenderly over his knuckles he knew that she heard him. He felt overwhelmed by her presence, by her comforting him and herself. He grabbed her hands and squeezed them back. He let out an audible sigh and took a deep breath.
"Just let me hold you a little longer", she said, while freeing herself from him and tapping his shoulder to turn around, to her. When he had fully turned to her, she wordlessly hugged him again and put her head on his shoulder. Moving her hand on his chest to his healed gunshot wound and whispering, "You haven't failed, Ray. You came back no matter how much I pushed you away, cared about me, tried to be there, when I needed it the most. And you never lied, not even once to make me feel better"
He slowly put his arms around her and hugged her back, moving his hands on her back and pulling her closer.
"I never wanted you.. to be on the run, dealing with..this, becoming like me"
"You are .. good, Ray. We are good."
She put a kiss on his cheek and left him in the kitchen. With the right person she could have a sense of home. And that person could be Red.