Red and Lizzie were sitting in his safe house in the Poconos. They had arrived there late Thursday afternoon. He had convinced her that it was better that they stayed together for a while longer even though she had been cleared of the Connelly killing. "We don't want to run into some junior G – man who hasn't heard about your clemency yet," he had said at the time.

Liz had accepted his logic without question. She was still smarting from her interrogation by the FBI in which she had told them about the shadow government running not only the United States, but the world and the two agents had looked at her like she was nuts. The world as she knew it shifted that day, never to regain its axis. The curtain had been pulled back to reveal the man behind it and things would never be the same again.

Dembe arrived at the safe house two hours after they did. Liz watched as Red rose from his seat to embrace and kiss the man he loved both as brother and son. The three of them sat and sipped wine until Dembe announced that he was going upstairs to bed whereupon Red stood to hug and kiss him on the forehead. He remained standing until Dembe had ascended the stairs and closed his room door behind him.

"Reddington," Liz said, "I have seen you be affectionate with your friends and cronies, but not to the level you have with Dembe. May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why are you so demonstrative with Dembe when it comes to your love for him?"

"Why? Do you think it's over the top? Maybe homoerotic?"

Liz lowered her glass. "No! it's not that! I'm just curious as to why you seem to…shower him with…affection," she finished lamely.

"Without going into too much detail imagine for a moment, Lizzie, that your entire family was ripped away from you before the age of ten and you're thrown into a setting where you are not loved or valued, you never receive an affectionate hug or kiss or any indication that you matter as a human being and then, when by a miracle you're rescued from that situation years later, the man who saved you won't touch you for fear it will be misinterpreted."

"Dembe had to learn that not all touching is dehumanizing. That took a long time. When he finally realized that, he approached me for a hug which I gave with all the love I feel for him. From that day forward, when we are home, wherever that is, he can expect that I am open to giving and receiving physical affection one would show a brother or a son."

"I think I understand," Liz replied. "Both of you are trying to make up for all those years Dembe was deprived of any semblance of a normal childhood."

Red walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. He held the bottle up to Liz, who shook her head at the offer. He sipped his drink and returned to his seat. "I am also, I think, making up for all the hugs and kisses I missed out on after losing my oldest child years ago and then again when Anslo Garrick murdered Luli. She was a daughter to me as much as Dembe is a son." He took another sip of his scotch.

Liz reached over and rubbed his arm. "I was horrified when he killed her," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't get to know her."

"You would have liked her," Red replied, "Highly intelligent, multilingual, an excellent money manager. I was very proud of her." He drained his glass. "She died so suddenly that I didn't get a chance to tell her…Nevermind. Suffice it to say that I show Dembe how I feel about him every chance I get." He returned to the bar and poured another drink. "I'm going upstairs. Goodnight, Lizzie." He leaned over the back of the couch and tenderly kissed Liz on her forehead. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight." She decided to pour herself a Merlot for a nightcap. She tasted it as she thought of her conversation with Red. He does see himself as a protector, she thought. Kissing someone on the forehead indicates that one feels responsible for the wellbeing of that person. I have an idea how Dembe fits into Reddington's life, but I still don't understand or know why or how I fit into his life. I wonder if I'll ever know.