Samar couldn't get the image of Liz under hypnosis out of her mind. She had been terrified at Liz's lack of control, her own inability to help. It had made her chest ache. As she talked to Dr. Orchard while they waited for her son to arrive, Samar was distracted, glancing every now and then toward Liz where she was getting checked out by a paramedic, then talking to Reddington.

Liz's frantic roar – "don't!" – echoed throughout the tiled room, and Samar snapped her gaze over to her instantly. Reddington was backing away and Liz was standing up, Ressler wrapping her in a blanket. Samar's heart broke as she watched Ressler lead Liz up the steps of the empty, abandoned pool, Liz visibly shaking.

Samar desperately wanted to help, to reach out and touch her. When they reached the doorway, she couldn't help herself, placing her arm protectively around Liz's shoulders and upper back. Tears stung the corners of her eyes but she forced herself to keep them at bay. Liz didn't need her tears; she had enough of her own. But Samar couldn't stop thinking about how close to dying they'd both been that day, and how badly she wanted to keep Liz safe and tell her she would never let anything happen to her ever again.

They exited the crumbling building, Liz supported between Ressler and Samar. They hadn't spoken, but Ressler cleared his throat, helping Liz into the backseat of their SUV. "I'll drive. You okay back here, Keen?" Liz nodded, remaining quiet.

Samar spoke up. "I can sit in the back." Ressler nodded, but Samar immediately looked at Liz, trying to mask the worry in her expression. Liz gave her a meek, grateful smile, and Samar squeezed her shoulder before walking around the car to slide in on the opposite side.

Liz's hands were shaking, causing her to have trouble with her seatbelt. Samar wordlessly slid to the middle seat, taking it gently from Liz's hands and quickly buckling it. Liz wouldn't meet her eyes, clearly embarrassed. Samar remained in the middle seat, sliding her hand from the buckle up to Liz's blanket-covered arm, letting her hand rest there protectively.

Liz continued to stare straight ahead, focusing on keeping her emotions in check. Tears were threatening to spill any second, but she couldn't cry in front of someone as strong as Samar. She'd cried in front of Ressler before, but that had been a long time ago and she didn't really want to repeat it.

When Liz thought she had the tight coil of emotion in her throat under control, she glanced down at Samar's hand on her arm, then allowed her gaze to travel up to Samar's face. But before her eyes could get there, they stopped at her collarbone, her neck, mottled with dark, ugly bruises. Liz's brow furrowed, meeting Samar's gaze. "What did they do to you?" she nearly whispered.

Samar shot her a sad smile. "Let's not talk about it. I'm fine, and so are you."

Liz nodded, swallowing, clearly still worried. "How's your ankle?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"It's seen better days," Samar replied evasively, looking straight ahead instead of at Liz.

Liz wanted real answers, but she didn't want to call Samar out on it, especially not in front of Ressler. So instead, her profiler's mind looked past Samar's mask and could see the lingering pain and fear from the day's ordeal. She brought her left hand over to cover Samar's where it was resting on her right arm, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes, focusing on the comfort of the warm body next to hers.

Samar's eyes widened when Liz's hand covered her own, her gaze quickly moving to Liz's face. But Liz had closed her eyes, resting. Samar smiled softly as she studied the small, exhausted woman next to her, then leaned back, deciding she could use the rest as well for however long they were in the car.

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When they arrived at the Post Office, Cooper ordered Liz to go home and get some rest, and insisted that neither she nor Samar come to work for a couple days so they could recover. Before Ressler could offer, Samar spoke up. "Liz, I can drive you home. You shouldn't be driving yet, with all the drugs in your system."

Liz looked at her, surprised at the offer. She had been expecting it from Ressler, or even for Red to send Dembe to pick her up. But she was glad the offer came from Samar – she wanted to talk to her about the questions she'd evaded on the drive back. Liz smiled, meeting Samar's eyes. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

"It's no problem at all," Samar replied, placing her hand in the crook of Liz's arm. "We'll take your car and I'll bring a cab back."

Liz nodded, allowing Samar to lead her toward the elevator. When they got to the car, Liz's hands were still shaking but she was able to buckle her own seatbelt. Samar started the car and pulled out of the garage. They were quiet for a moment, until Samar realized she didn't know exactly where they were going. "I don't actually know where you live, now that I think about it," Samar said, breaking the silence.

"Oh. A motel in Northeast, on Franklin and 12th," Liz replied.

Samar glanced at her, a concerned look on her face, before looking back at the road. "You live at a motel?"

"Yeah. It's just easier. Temporary, no responsibility, no obligation. Fits the new me, you know?" Liz's voice dripped with resigned sarcasm.

Samar remained silent. Nothing she could say would do any good. The red light in front of them turned green, and she winced as her foot pressed into the gas pedal.

Liz noticed and looked over, remembering Samar's injury. "Shit, someone should be driving you home."

Samar shook her head. "I'm alright. Just a twinge. Nothing I can't handle."

"No, you should be resting, not aggravating the injury."

"Liz, it's fine. When I get home, I'll give it plenty of rest, okay?"

Liz sighed in frustration, then leaned her head back against the headrest. "Okay. Thanks for doing this, Samar. Even though you shouldn't be."

Samar chuckled softly. "You're welcome."

They were both quiet. Liz almost drifted to sleep by the lull of the moving car, but as soon as she began to drift, she jerked awake, inhaling sharply. It was likely going to be a sleepless night, she could tell. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt like she was drowning under the rag again, water filling her nostrils and throat.

Samar glanced over at her, worry emanating from her features. "Liz, you okay?"

Liz swallowed heavily. "Yeah, fine. The start of a nightmare, that's all."

Samar frowned, but Liz pointed out the motel sign up the block on the right side of the road, transferring Samar's focus.

When they got out of the car, Liz walked to the door of her room, Samar following behind her. "You can come inside and call for a cab," Liz offered, unlocking her door and flipping on the dingy light. Samar nodded and followed her inside, but before she could reply, Liz continued. "Or, actually…" Her voice was strained with nerves. She avoided looking at Samar as she spoke, busying herself by turning on another light and tossing her bag on the table. "Could you maybe stay for awhile? I don't really want to be alone yet. After… everything."

Samar's heart leapt into her throat and she reached out for Liz's arm, trying to lend her some small amount of comfort. "I'll stay." Liz finally looked at her and Samar smiled. "Of course I'll stay."

Liz smiled dimly, her voice meek when she replied. "Thank you."

"Are you hungry? Should we order food?" Samar asked, wanting to make sure Liz was taken care of.

Liz shrugged. "I don't have much of an appetite from all the drugs they pumped in me, but I should probably try to eat something."

Samar nodded. "Sit down and I'll take care of it."

"Samar, your ankle-"

She held up her hand. "Just tell me where to find the takeout menus and then I'll sit as well."

"The menus are over there on that table," Liz replied, pointing to the far corner of the room as she sat down on the bed.

Samar limped to the table, and Liz immediately disobeyed the request, standing back up.

"Liz, what the hell are you doing?" Samar sighed.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Look, Samar. We're both in bad shape. You order Chinese or something, get whatever you want. I'm going to get some ice for your ankle. And then we'll sit. No arguments."

Liz grabbed the ice bucket and walked out the door, using the deadbolt to prop it open. At least Samar hadn't protested a second time. She filled up the bucket and by the time she returned to the room, Samar was on the phone, ordering sesame chicken, a noodle dish, and egg rolls.

Liz grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and filled it with ice, knotting the corners together to create a makeshift ice pack for Samar's ankle. As she came out of the bathroom, Samar was hanging up the phone. Liz sat on the bed, patting the spot next to her.

Samar smiled and took the ice pack from Liz's outstretched hand. She was clearly worried and trying to take care of her, and that touched Samar – Liz had dealt with as much trauma as she had today. Samar had seen the bucket and the dirty rag on the floor of that abandoned pool. She knew what that meant: waterboarding. She was glad Liz had asked her to stay, because she hadn't wanted to leave her alone tonight anyway. And if Samar were being honest with herself, she didn't really want to be alone either.

Samar sat on the bed next to Liz, scooting backwards, giving herself space to stretch her leg out, and placed the ice pack against her ankle, holding it in place gently. Liz followed suit, moving backwards and turning to face Samar, tucking her legs underneath herself. Samar gave her a small half-smile. "Food should be here in twenty to thirty minutes."

"Sounds good," Liz replied, returning her smile. They hadn't spent much time together personally – basically none outside of work – but it didn't really seem awkward. They were just glad to not be alone.

Liz looked down, picking at a loose thread on the motel comforter before looking back at Samar, her brow creased in worry, her eyes glancing briefly at the bruises on Samar's neck. "Are you okay?"

Something in Liz's tone made Samar not want to lie to her, so she met her gaze and shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

Liz could sense her hesitation. "I'm usually an advocate for burying pain, so you don't have to talk about it. But I'm here to listen," Liz told her gently. Samar still didn't speak, and Liz felt her chest aching, wanting to help, wanting to comfort her somehow. She reached out and began to brush her finger lightly along the bruise on Samar's collarbone.

Samar squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled sharply, flinching away from Liz's touch.

Liz quickly pulled her hand back, her cheeks warm as she looked down at the blanket. She noticed that damn thread again, and began to wrap it around her finger as a distraction. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

Samar covered Liz's hand with her own, stilling the motion of the winding thread. "Don't apologize." Liz looked up at her, still embarrassed. "Are you… sure you want to hear about it after what you went through today?" Samar asked uncertainly.

Liz nodded, her eyes filled with concern.

Samar removed her hand from Liz's, self-consciously covering a portion of her bruises as she remembered what it felt like to choke. Tears burned the backs of her eyes and she stared straight ahead, avoiding Liz's gaze. When she spoke her voice was tight with the memory of her terror. "Braxton. He had chains around our necks, choking us. My bullet wound, it was bleeding everywhere, and aching and throbbing. I could barely reach the platform underneath me, and I couldn't put any pressure on my right foot." Her voice shook, and she paused, gathering her strength. "He threatened to kill me if Cooper didn't give him the systems code. Braxton's men raised the chain up until my feet couldn't touch the platform at all. I was choking, and my hands were tied behind my back, and I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe." Her voice was getting more panicked as she remembered. Her eyes were shining, distant, as if she were back in that soulless room at the Factory. She let her hand drop down to rest on her knee, leaving her bruises fully exposed.

Tears were in Liz's eyes as she listened. The vacant look in Samar's eyes worried her. "Samar."

She didn't answer.

"Samar, hey. Look at me." She reluctantly looked over at Liz, a tear sliding down her cheek, too proud to even think about wiping it away, as if she were pretending it wasn't there at all.

Samar spoke again before Liz could say anything to comfort her. "I always think I'm used to it, that near-death experiences are part of the job. But that was…. without a doubt the most terrified I have ever been." Her body was tense with the force of holding back her tears.

Liz's heart broke for her. She cautiously scooted closer and reached toward Samar's knee, closing her fingers around Samar's hand, squeezing tightly, as if her touch could hold Samar's crumbling pieces together. Liz cleared the emotion from her throat; she wanted her voice to come out strong and reassuring. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. You're fine now. You're safe."

Samar nodded, but spoke again, needing to get everything out in the open. "When we found you, I was terrified all over again. You were… it seemed as if you were completely lost in your own mind, and I couldn't do anything to help." Her voice cracked.

Liz's brow furrowed. Samar had been as terrified for her as she had been for herself? Her instincts to comfort pushed away the curtain of confusion. "I'm safe too, Samar. We're both safe. Here in this shithole of a motel, about to eat Chinese food."

Samar chuckled and took a deep breath to calm down. She finally looked at Liz. "I'm not quite ready to die yet. And I'm not ready for you to die either," she whispered. And suddenly she was leaning in, brushing her tear-stained lips against Liz's softly, then more urgently, putting all of the day's fear into this kiss, this moment that she was scared she would never get.

Liz was taken by surprise, her body tensing at first, but within seconds her heart clenched and she responded, kissing Samar back, running her hand up Samar's arm to her shoulder. She remembered the bruises, pictured Samar choking on the chain, and she wanted to take away all of her pain, heal all the bruises inside and out. She trailed her fingers gently along Samar's collarbone.

Samar didn't flinch this time. Instead, she just kissed Liz harder, overwhelmed.

When Samar finally pulled away, she looked into Liz's wide, surprised eyes, her own filled with anxious anticipation – even though Liz had responded to the kiss, she was worried about her reaction. Samar cleared her throat. "I couldn't die without doing that first."

Liz smiled softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She brought her hand up to Samar's face, pushing a strand of hair behind Samar's ear, cupping her cheek, leaning in to kiss her again briefly. A reassurance. Liz pulled away, her lips remaining a breath away from Samar's. "I'm definitely glad we didn't die today then," she whispered.

Samar beamed. Was this really happening? She reached out again, running her hand along Liz's thigh, needing to keep touching her, needing to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

Liz lowered her forehead to Samar's shoulder, closing her eyes, reveling in this unexpected closeness. She breathed a relaxed sigh of contentment. She felt safe.

After a moment, Liz pulled away, noticing the ice pack lying on the bed, forgotten during their kiss. She picked it up – it thankfully hadn't melted much at all. "Here, sit back against the headboard while we wait."

They settled in, Liz putting a pillow behind Samar's back, but instead of sitting next to her, she scooted down to Samar's ankle, pressing the ice pack against it. "You don't have to do that," Samar insisted.

"I want to." Liz smiled at her and Samar's heart skipped a beat. Liz placed her free hand on Samar's shin, needing the physical contact to continue between them. A comfortable silence descended between them. "How's it feeling?" Liz murmured after a moment.

"The ice is helping, but it's painful." Samar winced. "I'm going to wait until I get home to take the pain medication they prescribed me."

"Or you could take them now and stay here tonight. I don't mind. I doubt either of us will sleep well anyway," Liz offered, almost shyly, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks.

Samar smiled. "I'd like that," she replied softly.

Liz smiled in return. "Okay, step one: pain meds," she said, standing from the bed to find Samar's bag, bringing it to her, then disappearing into the bathroom for a glass of water. She watched Samar gulp down the pills, wishing she could do more to help. She reached for the ice pack. The ice in the washcloth had melted enough that it was starting to make a mess. "The ice is melting," she explained, holding it up to Samar's gaze. "Do you want me to refill it?"

Samar shook her head. "No, I'll be fine once the pills kick in. Thank you, though."

Liz nodded. "I'll be right back." She returned to the bathroom, emptying the melting ice into the sink and tossing the damp washcloth on the counter, before going back to the bed and climbing up to sit next to Samar against the headboard. She positioned a pillow behind herself and then inched closer to Samar until their arms were touching from shoulder to elbow.

They were being careful, hesitant, both a little overwhelmed by this unexpected new dynamic between them, these previously hidden and denied feelings suddenly out in the open. After a few seconds, Liz moved her hand to Samar's thigh, and Samar responded the way she had hoped – by immediately finding her hand and linking their fingers together. Liz let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, and relaxed into Samar's shoulder.

Samar cleared her throat. "Are you okay, Liz?"

"I will be," Liz sighed. "I'm just…trying not to think about it for now."

Samar kissed the side of Liz's head, squeezing her hand. "I know what they did to you," she murmured into Liz's hair. "I wish I could go back and do something differently. Somehow stop him from taking you. I'd kill them all myself if I weren't positive that Reddington has taken care of it already. I'm sorry that it took so long for us to find you."

The rage shaking Samar's voice made Liz's eyes sting. "Samar," she whispered, straightening to look at her. "You did everything you could… Please don't apologize to me. I know you. I know you did everything you could." Samar was looking straight ahead, avoiding Liz's gaze, her features tightly controlled, but she nodded. Liz reached up and cupped Samar's cheek, forcing her to meet her gaze as she continued speaking. "Trust me, I wish just as much that I could have done something to prevent… this," she spoke softly, trailing her fingers along the bruises on Samar's neck and collarbone again. "Watching you get shot… God, I was so angry, I just wanted to storm out and kill them. And part of me wishes I had tried, because at least I would have gotten to stay with you and Ressler. No matter what they'd have done to me in there, it would have been worth it to stay with you and be able to tell you everything would be okay." Liz's voice trembled with fear and anger, silent tears tracking down her cheeks.

Samar leaned forward, pressing her lips to Liz's softly. Tears continued leaking from Liz's closed eyes, and Samar gently kissed away the tears staining her cheeks. Samar's heart was beating out of her chest, but if today had proven anything, it was that life was short and there wasn't time for bullshitting around and being her usual closed-off self.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Samar whispered, her breath warm on Liz's wet cheeks.

Liz pulled away a couple inches to look at Samar, her eyes wide in shock. "You what?" she whispered.

Samar huffed a laugh and smiled gently, taking both of Liz's hands in her own. "I've been attracted to you since day one, and I've fallen for you more every day that I've known you. You are without a doubt the most selfless person I have ever met."

Liz's brows furrowed in confusion. "You… you love me?" She seemed almost alarmed, and Samar frowned. "But- What- I mean, Reddington brought you to the task force. Did he tell you to do this? Please don't lie to me. If this is part of some kind of plan, just tell me now. I can't-" Her hands were shaking, her mind was racing, but she could see the hurt in Samar's eyes. She wanted so badly to be wrong, for this to be paranoia, but Tom had been a good actor. He had fooled her for years.

Samar felt like Liz had punched her in the gut. Her voice was firm, laced with subtle anger. "Tom really fucked you up, didn't he? He made you believe that no one could love you for you." She paused, watching Liz swallow nervously. "I know you didn't trust me when I first joined the team. But I need you to tell me right now whether you trust me or not, Liz. If you don't trust me, I'll leave and we can pretend this never happened."

"I trust you," Liz whispered, her lip quivering. "I just- I'm not sure I trust Reddington, and after everything with Tom… I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry, I trust you. I'm just so scared of getting hurt again, Samar." Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she pulled one hand free from Samar's grasp to wipe at them before they could fall.

Samar squeezed Liz's remaining hand. "And you think I'm not scared? I know I seem like an emotionless badass." She paused, smirking at Liz's low chuckle. "I became that way to protect myself, after getting hurt a long time ago. But you've somehow found your way past my impenetrable walls of steel, Liz. That terrifies me to no end. You make me vulnerable. But I can't bring myself to care, because you're you."

Liz swiped at her face again, then wiped her hand on her pants to dry it. She lifted her fingers to Samar's face and stroked her temple. "Okay, so we're both scared then," she murmured. "At least I'm not alone in my absolute terror."

"You're definitely not alone," Samar agreed. "We can be scared together. Vulnerable together. But you're sure you trust me?" she asked, staring intently into Liz's eyes, her voice determined, serious.

Liz nodded. "I'm sure, Samar. I trust you." She leaned in and placed feather-light kisses along Samar's bruises, trying to reassure her, to make up for her tactless accusation.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Liz jumped back, startled, before remembering that they were, in fact, expecting someone. "Oh, that's the food. Stay put, I'll get it."

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After they ate, Liz took the garbage to the dumpster behind the motel. When she returned, Samar was still propped against the headboard. "Do you want to take a shower? There's an extra towel in the bathroom and you can borrow some of my pajamas. I can help you change your bandage when you're done," Liz offered.

"That would be lovely," Samar smiled in reply. She disappeared into the bathroom and Liz rummaged through the drawers for two clean pairs of lounge pants and tank tops, her usual uniform for sleeping. She laid out the set for Samar and sat down on the bed to wait.

The noises coming from the bathroom were affecting her in strange ways, the sound of the water beating against the tub making her heart pound and her breathing quicken. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her legs, closing her eyes, trying to block out the noise.

When Samar exited the bathroom in a towel, she found Liz curled up in a ball. "Liz? What's wrong?"

"The sound of the water. I don't know, it…" She trailed off. "I don't think I can take a shower." She sounded so small and afraid, and it broke Samar's heart.

Samar stood in front of her, dripping onto the motel floor, stroking Liz's hair. "Maybe a bath? I can run it for you so you don't have to worry about the running water."

Liz looked up at Samar, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "Yeah, um. I'll try that I guess."

"Don't be embarrassed. I've seen people crack from waterboarding. You're holding up fairly well right now. Just let me get dressed and I'll get the bath ready for you."

Liz smiled softly and reached up to twine her fingers through Samar's. "Thanks," she whispered, before reaching over for Samar's pajamas and handing them to her.

Samar turned around to head back to the bathroom. "I'll be right back," she told Liz over her shoulder.

Within a minute, Liz could hear the sound of the bath running in the next room. She took deep breaths to calm herself down until Samar reemerged wearing Liz's pants and tank top. "Thanks for the pajamas," she smiled, tugging at the hem of the shirt, almost self-consciously. "The bath is ready. Do you need anything else?"

Liz stood up and walked toward her. "No, I think I'm okay." She stopped in front of her. "Thank you for this," she murmured.

"You're welcome," Samar replied, taking her hand and squeezing it in support. "I'll be right here if you need me."

Liz nodded and smiled at her, so grateful to not be alone, and even more grateful that it was Samar here with her.

Liz made it through the bath without hyperventilating, but she was thrilled when she deemed herself clean enough to stand up and get the hell out of there. She wrapped herself in a towel and walked into the bedroom to grab her pajamas, only to find Samar wincing as she pulled off the bandage on her ankle. Samar looked up at her and smiled. "How did it go?" she asked.

"I survived and I'm clean, that's what matters. Hold on, I'll be right back to help with that." She grabbed her pajamas off the bed and hurried to the bathroom to change.

She rushed back into the bedroom, not bothering to wring out her hair in her haste to get back to Samar. She sat on the bed next to Samar's ankle. "How are you feeling? Are the pain meds working?" She picked up the supplies Samar had retrieved from her bag to attach the new bandage and began unraveling the material.

"They're working. It just hurts when I put pressure on it," Samar explained as she pulled the final piece of the bandage away from her leg.

Liz's chest ached as she looked at the ugly, stitched-up wound. "God, how did you run around all day on this, Samar? Are you sure you're okay?" She ran her fingers softly up and down Samar's calf as she looked at her, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine, I promise," Samar replied, staring into Liz's eyes until Liz nodded, seeming to accept her answer.

Liz sterilized the new material and pressed it gently to the wound. Samar winced. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," Liz murmured, before silently returning to the task at hand. She continued to wrap the material around the injury until she deemed it thick enough, then pinned it in place.

Liz looked up at Samar. "Is the pressure okay?" she asked worriedly.

Samar nodded.

"Good. Let me know if it's not though, okay? I want you to be comfortable." Liz paused, realizing something. "Oh, shit. I don't have an extra toothbrush. I guess you can at least finger brush if you want? And I have mouthwash."

Samar grinned, grasping at Liz's shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. "You are so cute." Liz blushed at that, not knowing what to say. "Come on," Samar continued with an amused smirk. "Let's go brush our teeth together like an old married couple." She got up off the bed, pulling Liz along with her.

Neither of them had ever realized that brushing your teeth next to someone else could be such a comfort, such a moment of contentment. They took turns spitting into the sink, rinsing, gargling mouthwash. Liz stepped forward when they had finished, placing her hands on Samar's hips. She stood on her tiptoes and smiled against Samar's lips. "Minty fresh," she whispered before kissing Samar deeply.

And then two emotionally closed-off, terrified, broken women went to bed, Samar curling protectively around Liz's body, holding her close, both of them thinking that maybe they weren't so broken after all.