Masha.
She'd gone and named the child Masha.
Adorable, if not entirely fucked up.
The entire situation was fucked up beyond belief.
Raymond Reddington could hardly bring himself to care anymore.
Rain beat down on the windshield of the black SUV, drowning out the radio and reminding him that as quickly as he wanted to get to California, he needed to pace himself. It wouldn't do to get in too big of a hurry and ruin even more lives than he'd already ruined.
Dembe could make the drive in his sleep, and get him there in half the time.
Dembe could have made the drive, if dead men drove.
The pile of dead bodies lying at Red's feet had grown exponentially in the past few days.
Funny how it never bothered him before.
Time to stop for gas again.
The gas station was almost deserted... the first bit of luck he'd had in months. Debating silently with himself -as he'd done at every gas station since he'd left Maryland- Red locked the door and pocketed his keys, checking the handle one more time before walking into the store.
Thieves were absolutely everywhere.
He should know.
"Forty on six."
Cash, as always.
"Alright. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"You could stop being so fucking pleasant. Everyone could just stop being so fucking pleasant. Don't you know who you're talking to? Don't you know what I've done?"
"No, thank you. Have a good night."
He was halfway back to the SUV before he realized he was sprinting.
Not good.
Fighting the urge to look back and see if the cashier had witnessed his momentary lapse in discretion, Red focused his attention on the backseat instead.
Everything was just as he'd left it.
Manic paranoia truly knew no bounds.
Heavy rain shifted into a thunderstorm of epic proportions as the black SUV found its way back to the interstate.
Or maybe it just seemed that way.
Rain fell on the windshield faster than the wipers could push them away, and Red cursed aloud as he pulled over onto the side of the road, further hindering his journey. When had he gotten so old that a little rain stopped him from doing anything?
Then again... maybe camping out on the side of the road was the best thing for him.
He needed time to reflect on the past month.
On the devastation.
On the carnage.
Katerina Rostova had swept down on upon them in the dead of night, and in all her beautiful fury had exacted cold, calculating revenge on all those who had deserved it.
And even some that didn't deserve it at all.
Harold and Charlotte Cooper went first, their throats slit as they lay naked in their bed, entwined in one another for the first time in months.
At least they died happy.
The same couldn't be said for Aram.
Or Agent Ressler.
Fools, the both of them, lusting after a woman who would sooner jump off a cliff than settle down.
Maybe she had jumped off a cliff.
No one had seen her in weeks.
And then there was Dembe.
Dembe, she sent to Red piece by piece.
Dembe, she would pay for.
But it wasn't personal.
Not really.
Tom Keen... that was personal.
Tom Keen's execution was a message to Lizzie.
Even.
They were finally even.
That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
Her grief was palpable.
And hideous.
"Eat, Lizzie. You have to eat something. You have to try."
"I'm done trying."
"You don't mean that."
"I mean everything I say. I'm not a liar like you."
That had bought her a night away from him.
And then he doubled back with a vengeance.
He begged and pleaded, and then when every other option was exhausted, he pulled out the only weapon left in his arsenal.
"Your baby needs you."
"Like I needed my mother?"
"Lizzie, she was sick. She was..."
"My mother. And if there is any of her in me then Masha is better off without me."
An angry wail disrupted the melancholy atmosphere and Red gritted his teeth in spite of himself.
"Doesn't she know it's raining?"
"I know. We had a deal. I drive, you sleep. But it's raining, you see..."
The wailing grew louder.
More insistent.
Shrill.
Red angled his rearview mirror to the backseat and scowled at the noisy little backseat driver.
"Fine. We'll go. But this vehicle flips and we both go flying, don't come crying to me."
Remorse overtook him before he even finished the sentence.
"I didn't mean that. I didn't... I didn't mean it." The engine revved as Red gave his passenger what she wanted. "Let's just get out of here. We're going to the beach. Aren't you excited? We're going to the beach..."
The wailing soon ceased as they made their way into California and out of the heavy rain.
"I don't mean to be cranky," Red apologized as they crossed the state line and his mood lifted by a fraction of an inch. "It's just that this wasn't a trip I ever wanted to have to make, and truth be told, you really have no business making it with me. You should be at home, not traipsing across the country with a wanted criminal."
No, an infant had no business travelling with The Concierge of Crime.
And mothers of infant daughters had no business putting a bullet in their mouths, but that didn't stop it from happening.
He didn't stop it from happening.
He had failed, but he wouldn't fail again.
This time, he would get it right.
"Just a little while longer. We'll be there by the end of the day."
The end of the day came way too soon, and for a moment, Red sat in the driveway of the rather small beach house and considered turning around. He had always given this place a wide berth...given it the respect it deserved. To invade this space now, after years of avoiding it...
But where would he go?
Where would they go?
They... what a novel idea...
No.
Red stepped out of the vehicle before he did something he could never take back.
Opening the door to the backseat, Red gathered the small, content bundle in his arms and quickly tucked it under his jacket.
It was raining again.
If that was an omen, Red was fucked.
There was a light on inside the house and the faint sound of a radio playing. Red took a deep breath and knocked. There was a shuffling noise and the door opened slowly... cautiously.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
Green eyes met green eyes and the door began to close again.
"No! Please!" Desperation clawed at Red's throat...at his stomach...at his heart. "Please don't shut the door on me. I can't bear for you to shut the door on me. Please."
For a moment the door stayed still, but then opened up wide, revealing the owner of the house once more. She nodded for Red to talk, but his voice was nowhere to be found. He had no right to speak to her. No right at all.
"Say something or I'm shutting the door."
An apology.
She deserved an apology.
He didn't deserve to give her one.
"I'm shutting the door."
"I need your help."
Best start off with the truth.
Green eyes narrowed incredulously. "You need my help? Fuck off."
The door started to close one last time.
"Jennifer... she needs you. You're the only one I have left. You're the only one I trust, and I can't help her. Please."
"She?"
Red produced the bundle from his jacket and Jennifer's eyes widened.
"Her parents are dead. She has no one."
"Take her. Take her. I can't do this. Just take her. Please. Forgive me. Don't forgive me. Just take her. Take her and I swear I'll never ask for anything again. Please. It's raining. Can't you see it's raining? "
Jennifer stared.
Red envied her. Oh, how he wanted to stare...
"I'm not promising anything."
"That's fine. Just hear me out."
"Fine."
It was more than he had dared to hope for.
"Bring her in. It's raining."
The corners of Red's mouth turned up in a soft smile.
"Her name is Masha."
a/n: So I've been on another planet for months now, and I don't know what possessed me to come down to earth to write this. Just know I'm always thinking of y'all.
I own nothingggggg!