This story is my Secret Santa gift to Brittany from the FB Lizzington group. Hope you'll like it!
This chapter is beta-ed by the great Almcvay1, thank you so much for your help!
Huuuge thanks to Hestia Prytaneum and Alysha for helping when my muse left me alone without any inspiration.
I don't own anything!
"There is the storm. You know it will come but you are not prepared. You can't be prepared. You can predict when it comes but you can't predict its power, neither where it goes. It's free. It's untamable. It devastates everything that gets in its way. You had a house, you had a life, you had a plan.
And the storm changes everything."
Csitáry-Hock Tamás
1. Opening sonata
The darkness was a blessing, the night peaceful and the house quiet.
Such a beautiful moment on the late spring night; somewhere in the heart of Transylvania, one of the most beautiful Romanian countrysides.
Everything was motionless and Raymond Reddington was so thankful for that.
Why?
Because inside…oh, inside of his heart the nasty feelings raged. Fury and sadness and pain. He had failed. Again. He should be used to the feeling, really. Every time he wanted to save something precious to him, Raymond Reddington caused its death.
He had killed Elizabeth Keen, not literally of course, but in a more horrible way.
The happy woman who couldn't wait to be mother and who loved her husband, the determined FBI agent who trusted in the law and truly believed in goodness in this world…she disappeared.
How did he know that?
Every time Lizzie looked at him, the fire, that unique glint wasn't in her eyes anymore.
He wasn't her sin-eater…he was her soul-eater.
They had been on the run for almost two weeks but he hadn't seen her smile, even for a moment.
He desperately wanted a good life for her. When he had pulled her out of the fire he had made a promise: no matter what, he would provide a normal life for her. She would be happy and she would have children and a dog and a cat and everything she would ever desire. She wouldn't remember of her KGB agent mother and her murdered father, especially not that she had pulled that trigger herself but most of all; she wouldn't remember the monster who brought hell into the early years of her life.
It seemed his plan would go as he expected, he watched her from distance as she grew from an adorable little girl to a rebellious teenager and later, a beautiful, intelligent woman. Everything went as he and Sam wanted except two little things. The first one was Jacob, the cute young man who first became a friend then when Berlin offered more money, the spy turned against Red as he seduced his innocent Lizzie into the lion's den.
The most disturbing thing about this Tom-Jacob- whatever he was - was that Liz still loved him. Of course four beautiful years of memory wouldn't disappear with a snap of the fingers but…Red couldn't understand, how she could easily believe the words of the devil.
Red would never admit but he was so damn jealous of him – and in the mean time there was the second problem of Red's 'life-model'.
He didn't know how or why but he was obsessed with Lizzie. He couldn't name the exact moment when Sam's little girl suddenly became a desirable woman in his eyes who visited him on the darkest nights and comforted his lonely soul.
It was somehow funny how these fantasies changed with his feelings.
First he fantasized about fucking her – he was a man and he had needs.
Nothing outrageous about that.
In his vivid mind he touched, licked, kissed and caressed every inch of her while she was moaning and begging and writhing under him, starving for his touch, for his kiss.
But as he had the pleasure of working with her almost every day, seeing how fascinating and exciting she could be, how incredibly intelligent and brave she was, it swept him off his feet.
The fuck-sessions in his mind changed into slow and torturous sex, then became love-making and ended up as scenes without any adult content.
He just wanted her to want him holding her at the end of the day.
He craved her embrace every night he went to sleep and ached for her smile every day.
The smile he obliterated.
It was too painful.
He had killed her soul.
He was ashamed.
And angry.
So fucking angry.
As the amount of alcohol in his blood reached the level that his body could no longer tolerate he stood up and hurried into the bathroom. Luckily he reached the toilet in time and didn't throw up on the softest carpet he had every felt under his feet.
When it seemed his stomach calmed down a bit he brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water. He watched as the cool drops of water roamed down on his face but he couldn't stop seeing the monster underneath the reflection of a bone-tired man.
His soul was so dark with all the sins he had swallowed. They darkened the windows of his heart and he didn't even know himself anymore. He was the sin-eater and, he couldn't save the one he loved most.
He didn't even recognize what was happening around him until Lizzie's soft hands cupped his face and forced him to look into her watery eyes.
He closed his eyes.
He couldn't bear seeing even a single teardrop from her.
He was sick of himself both literally and figuratively. He wanted nothing more than to have the ground swallow him so he would not have to face Lizzie anymore. It was so humiliating.
He didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes anymore.
"Go away," he murmured in the coldest way possible.
It looked like his cold behavior had worked, because Liz wasn't in the bathroom. His trembling legs couldn't hold him anymore so he leaned hard against the wall and sank down onto the floor.
He closed his eyes to stop the spinning world but it didn't work. He had drunk too much tonight.
"Red…?" the most beautiful voice in the world asked for him and he didn't dare to open his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy her soft voice echoing in his heart, even if he thought it was only fantasy. "Red, open your eyes, or I swear to God I'm gonna slap you!" he groaned as his nice fantasy turned into an ugly one but he obeyed and opened his eyes.
The woman he had just sent away minutes ago was now kneeling in front of him, holding a glass of drink in front of his lips. "Drink it. It's ginger, it'll help ease your nausea…" Ah, the soft voice again.
Soft, then hard, then soft again…
Red raised his hand to take the glass from her, to save his remaining pride but at that moment he realized why she didn't let him; his hands were soaked in his own blood. His knuckles were bruised and both sides of his hands lacerated.
He remembered hating his reflection as the self-hatred ruled him...the mirror was shattered into small pieces around him.
Great, he had just smashed an antique mirror.
"Red," she whispered in awe as she tried to catch his unsure gaze and touched his cheek. "Drink some for me, okay?"
She was so loving and soft and all he craved but dear God, he didn't want it to happen this way.
His body was too tired to fight with her stubbornness tonight so he just let her raise the glass to his lips and drank a little.
###
She hated seeing him like this. He was her hero, her brave hero who she could trust with her life, she had realized that by now.
Liz didn't like this side of him, not even the slightest.
Because she knew she was the cause of his misery.
Since Liz realized he was the only one around him for a long time whom she could trust, Liz held on to him tight, even if the distance between them was greater than ever.
She could still remember his pained expression as he had gotten out of the car and hugged his friend, saying goodbye to him. While she had been waiting for Red she mentally prepared – Liz had expected him being furious for killing Tom Connolly or smug for choosing him instead of Tom but…
But that gaze, the entire sadness and pain he had given… it had her taken aback for a second. Red had looked at her like as if he would have killed her dearest thing. He hadn't seen that instead of taking he had been giving her; he gave her the truth, strength but most of all…he had given her hope.
And I find myself feeling…possessive…possessive of him…
Uh, I am not jealous!...
I risked my life for you because I care about you…
She had hopelessly fallen for him and she thought she was only business for him. When she had saved him from the Kings, she thought it was only pity in his eyes and he didn't want her caring about him because he didn't care about her.
She had almost chosen the wrong man. It wasn't a question whether Tom wanted her to come with him and sail into the sunset. She still loved him. Their last night was amazing but it showed the ugly truth; yes, she still loved Tom but certainly wasn't in love with him anymore.
For a moment she had seriously considered going back and disappearing with him but then…
That bastard Connolly threatened her friends with all his smugness and political bullshit but his biggest mistake was threatening Red's…and at that moment she realized something.
What she felt for Red, it was much stronger and just thinking of his death, even for a second…
Liz didn't regret killing him and she didn't regret running away with Red either.
And now, seeing him so damaged because he couldn't save her from herself, from her own memories…witnessing how much power she had over him…it made her shiver with the fear of breaking him.
He made her so angry. How could he let her do this to him? How could he let her treat him the way she did? And how the hell could he allow her to see him in such a state?
Liz so wanted to get him closer to her but the fear in her heart still had a little room…she couldn't live with another horrible event, caused by Reddington.
She didn't want to hurt him anymore and yet, she knew her distance pained him immensely.
But this way was less painful than the other.
At least she thought so.
###
When he drank a little she examined his hands again.
"Red, I need to clean your wounds, they're full of glass from the mirror."
Red chuckled bitterly…he was that broken mirror.
She didn't ask anything while she slowly cleaned his hands and dressed them. She knew he would avoid answering.
He was watching her face the whole time. She was so damn beautiful, even with her mussed hair and tired eyes. When she finished with his hand he couldn't help but gently run his index finger along her jawline, lifting her chin to make her look into his hooded eyes.
Her breath hitched. He was looking into her with such intensity, for a moment she imagined him kissing her…
###
…He wanted to kiss her right then and there but…a sudden image ran through his fuzzy mind…
His beautiful Lizzie, washing her naked body in moonlight as her bastard ex-husband making her his again and again on his rusty boat.
He felt like throwing up again but luckily he didn't. He swallowed all the pain as he dropped his head and slowly tried to stand up.
"Let me help," she offered gently but he swatted her hands away.
Oh no, he would not letting her take a pity on him any further tonight. Seeing him in this state, dressing his wounds was humiliating enough for him. He was a big boy, he could make it to his bedroom alone.
"No. I can do this. Go back to sleep." he tried to dismiss her but of course she didn't let him.
"Red…"
"I said," he raised his voice, something he had never done before, never with her. "Good night, Elizabeth."
She was still kneeling on the floor of the bathroom as he swayed into his room, shutting the door with force.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
He was shutting her out and she couldn't stop it.
###
Deep down he knew he would regret it in the morning but right now he felt it was the right decision. He didn't need her compassion…he needed her love, her happiness but Red knew he could never have that.
In the dark room he bumped into the nightstand with a loud thud but he didn't care. He swore loudly as he swept all the items from the nightstand. He still couldn't stop thinking about Liz being with that…
Tears welled up in his eyes.
He was shutting her out and she didn't even try to stop him.
###
She hurried into his room, not caring about his coldness. He was drunk and she felt the urge to protect his vulnerability tonight. Maybe he wouldn't remember anything in the morning. She hoped he wouldn't remember anything.
"Red, you're drunk." she slowly approached him like she would a wounded animal, bleeding out slowly.
"Well done, Captain Obvious," he spat sarcastically as he shut his eyes tight. He couldn't stop hurting her. He did it again and again, just the way she had done in the past weeks.
He didn't hold onto the fact that she had chosen to run away with him, to protect him with her life in front of the Cabal, not even seeing her watery eyes.
He was drunk and he felt as though he had the right to be selfish and protect his own heart for a night.
"Don't be an ass, I'm trying to help." she stepped closer and gently turned him around. She was frightened by his red rimmed eyes. They were distant and cold. She knew right there; if she didn't leave right now he would hurt her…
…but if she left him, he would hurt himself.
She would be selfless for tonight and let him take out of his anger on her as long as she could protect him from himself.
"You should take off that messy shirt," she suggested and a sleepy smirk appeared on his face.
Liz rolled her eyes as she gently pushed him to sit on the bed and knelt between his legs to help him out of the shirt that smelled like distillery.
He wanted her stop, really, but it was so, so good. Feeling her soft fingers accidently brushing against his skin as she unbuttoned his shirt, hearing the sound of the fabric as it fell down on his arms…
Just one more minute…he silently promised…just one more minute…
If they had been in another situation, she would openly admire his soft but still muscular torso, the salt and pepper hairs on the smooth, warm skin, but she couldn't.
She shouldn't.
She didn't feel comfortable unbuckling his belt so she stood up again and for a second she just enjoyed the hooded gaze…
"You ruined your pants, they're bloody. Take them off and I'll do the laundry tomorrow." she slightly licked her lips but he didn't realize that.
It was too dark and his mind was too occupied with creating something naughty.
Naughty pictures about her naked beauty
…and then Tom leaned above her, making her as his…
He was disgusted and even in the dark Liz felt something was wrong. He took off his pants and tossed it to her as he stepped into her personal space.
"Did you ask our dear Tom to take off his pants as well or did he just fuck you with opened zip on the boat?" he tilted his head as smiled arrogantly but inside his heart shattered into million pieces as he watched her angelic face turn into blank.
"Fuck you, Reddington." she whispered angrily and took his trousers into the bathroom. She felt like she was drowning and this time Reddington held her head under the water.
He was the only one who could hurt her that much. How dare he use his power!
She leaned over the sink as she watched her broken reflection on the jagged pieces, taking deep breaths.
He's drunk; he doesn't know what he's saying. He is just as miserable as you are right now. You know he would never want to hurt you. Forgive him, just tonight, Liz. – She repeated to herself but it didn't work. Yes, she had been prepared with her mind but not with her heart.
Ten minutes later she slowly swayed back into his room to make sure he didn't drown into his own vomit.
She covered her mouth tightly with her right hand to hold back the gasp as she stared at the rough skin on his back. He had his back to her; wearing his black boxers only and the dim light of the living room was enough to let her see the past.
She silently stepped closer and knelt next to the bed so she was eye level with his back. She didn't even realize what she was doing until the tip of her fingers discovered his skin. He was so warm and alive under her fingers but a second later she pulled back when he shrugged out of her touch.
And that moment she remembered everything.
The flames on his back…
His screams…
His strong arms as he pulled her out of the house…
The scent of his burned flesh…
How he winced when she tried to heal his wound with her touch…
She stood up and backed until her legs hit the rocking chair near to the bed. She pulled up her legs and hugged them close to her chest as she watched over his dreamless sleep.
That night she cried for him, for herself but most of all: she cried for them.
###
She didn't sleep a wink. She was lost in her thoughts and feelings, staring at his rising and falling chest and staring out at the night.
The first rays of the sun caught her there; angry, tired and emotionally gutted.
It was nearly six in the morning when Red opened his eyes with a loud groan. His head hurt like hell and he just had a horrible dream about Lizzie as he spilled all his pain into her soul, wounding her intentionally.
He slowly turned onto his side when he jumped a little as he saw her sitting in the rocking chair.
First she watched the valley through the windows but a minute later she lowered her gaze to him. All he saw there was pain and fury and sadness.
Fuck, he hadn't just dreamt it.
"I'll be always thankful to you, and I can't stop caring about you. But if you do that again – if you do this to me again, I'm gonna leave and never come back. Maybe I need your protection," and you in my life, she mentally noted. "But I won't tolerate your loathing because of my actions." she stopped and continued with a mere whisper "I'm unable to bear your loathing. Keep it in your mind." with that she stood up and left for her own room.
He buried his face into his palms.
Oh God, what had he done?
To be continued…
Well, what do you think? :) Should I continue?