Golden eyelashes fluttered rapidly against pale, clammy skin. Slowly, the dimly lit room began to come into focus. The calming eggshell walls, beige and blue flecked tile floor beneath. Simple yet substantial room darkening curtains and shades hung at the wide windows. Finally, a steady beep like clockwork got his attention and he gathered every available ounce of strength to try to turn toward it. Every move was excruciatingly difficult and required a command-like conversation with his wounded nervous system trying to bring it into submission.
When he finally was able to get his head turned, he saw the IV stand with bags dripping down into his arm and a heart monitor, rhythmically thrumming along and blinking, bouncing blinding green light back at him.
He had lived.
The hot copper ripped mercilessly into his chest but luckily, missed his heart by mere centimeters. Call it luck or a higher power. Whatever it was, there was a reason he was given another day to live. Another day to breathe.
He had to tell her.
He almost didn't make it and he had to tell her. His secrets were too big to be swallowed by the grave.
He tried to worry his brow. That's what he would be doing if he had control over what was happening to him right now. Somehow, being able to express emotions silently, by pinching his features, gave him relief. The cocktail making its way into his veins had stolen all chance of muscle control and began to lull him back into hazy oblivion.
"Agent Keen," Dembe gently placed a hand on her shoulder, interrupting her anxious thoughts. "Raymond has woken. You may go see him now."
She lifted her head from her hands, eyes red and sticky from hours of tears and her makeup long gone. She refused to leave, even though she couldn't be in his room, by his side, she had to stay close by. She wore yesterday's still blood-stained clothes. Dembe encouraged her to at least go home and get a shower; that he would call her if anything changed, but she couldn't will herself to walk out of the door, even if she had wanted to.
The first few hours were the most agonizing. While he was in surgery, the minutes seemed to crawl by, mocking her pain. She paced in circles around the waiting room until she was sure it was bothersome to other people. She stared at magazine articles, not really feeling the mental capacity to actually read anything. Finally, she had reclined in one of the plastic chairs that she was now effectively sticking to. The moment her eyes would slide shut, the gunshot would ring out in her mind and jolt her heart into near tachycardia. Her flashbacks were vividly real, causing stinging tears to prick at her eyes each time it happened. Then the overwhelming guilt. He shouldn't have even been there, exposed like that. If only they hadn't fought. She felt so selfish, drawing him out of safety to confront him about Tom. She had always intended to give him the fulcrum, she just wanted to do so on her own terms. Just to hold the cards, the upper hand and to be in control of one damn thing in her out of control life.
She stood finally, stretching her weary muscles. She would not complain, absolutely not. Any pains and strains from setting up temporary camp in a hospital waiting room was nothing compared to what Red was going through, what he would continue to go through to come back from this.
Unsure of what to expect, she walked toward his room, nodding to the guard at the door. Until he was stable enough to be moved, until Liz could be certain there wouldn't be further attempts on his life, the guard would stay. Although this was an FBI hospital, civilian visitors often coursed through and Liz wasn't taking any chances. Cooper sanctioned the guard in conjunction with a cover story. Red would become Robert Banks and he was being guarded until he could give his testimony in a federal court case involving the kidnapping of the Malaysian Deputy Minister to the U.N.
Not a difficult story to buy into.
With two hands, she pushed the heavy wooden door open and gasped when she took in the sight of him laid out and covered in tubes and wires. His usually warm and almost tanned glow he wore was now a sickly pallor. She realized how she previously discounted how the deep, rich colors of suiting he wore brightened not only his skin, but his whole persona. He looked older, too, and frail. The sight of him so vulnerable when he had always been so strong was more than she could handle.
He must not have been awake for long and was too deeply asleep now to notice the dip in the bed as she sat next to him. She lifted his right hand and held it between both of hers, stroking her thumb back and forth. She would do anything to see those stormy green eyes, to see him smile. A lump formed in her throat at the thought that she could have lost him. That her last words to him were so cutting and harsh. She felt so justified in the moment but now? She would take it all back just to know that he would open his eyes for good and recognize her. It was still unclear if he would and she couldn't imagine him not knowing her, to have lost the last two years of partnership.
Only, it was so much more than that.
With shaky fingers, she ghosted over his cheek, feeling the prickly stubble there. She half-heartedly laughed at the thought of him waking and realizing his need for a good shower and shave and inwardly scolding himself for being seen and touched by her in his current state. Even after a gunshot wound, she imagined, he would want to be meticulous about his appearance. But she didn't care.
His eyes fluttered once again and she tried not to gasp but it escaped her and he winced.
"Red," she whispered, "it's okay, I'm here. You're going to be okay," she said convincing herself as much as him.
"Liz-zie?" he breathed, groggy, and started to cough.
"Shh, Red, try not to talk. You still have breathing tubes. I'll tell the nurses to come and check on you. I have to check in with Cooper, but I will be back very soon."
He nodded and closed his eyes again. Within moments, she sensed by his leveled out breathing that he was once again asleep.
"There's something I gotta say to you when you are awake and I need to get it off my chest before I don't get another chance. But for now, you rest and get better," she whispered down at his sleeping form, wiping at the tears that strayed from the corners of her baby blue eyes. Leaning down, she placed the lightest of kisses to his cheek, lingering for a moment to let the feel of his skin on hers seep into her memory. Of all the times she imagined the first kiss she would share with him, even in any fashion, this scenario never entered her mind. Foolishly, she pushed the idea of him ever being hurt, ever leaving her, far from her mind. She would kiss him again, soon. She would not allow another day to go by where he didn't know just how much he meant to her.
Reluctant to leave, but knowing he needed his rest, she left to inform his nurse that he had woken again and tried to speak. The nurse reviewed his chart and noted that he needed to keep the breathing tubes as a precaution for a few more hours, until he was out of the critical stage. She handed Liz a large sealed envelope indicating it was the items in his possession when he was brought in. Smiling gratefully, she thanked the nurse and left to call and update Cooper. More confident now that she had seen Red's own eyes open, maybe she could stand to head home and get cleaned up. He was going to be okay, she reassured herself.
Once inside her car, she relaxed back into the seat and let a cleansing sigh leave her. Flipping on the map light, she opened the envelope and emptied its contents into her lap. A beautiful tie that made the emerald in his eyes shimmer now covered in rusty brown blood stains. An ivory handkerchief with his initials embroidered in crimson, also carrying the evidence of his wound. The Sig Sauer he never had the chance to reach for to defend himself.
A keychain with a single key and a real estate agent's business card.
Glancing at her watch and hoping it wasn't too late for a business call, she picked up her phone and dialed the agent's number. After a brief explanation of who she was and how she came upon the agent's number, she was shocked to learn that Red had purchased yet another apartment for her. The agent gave her the address and she decided to go see it firsthand.
In the meantime, she called and briefed Cooper on Red's status.
"He's finally stable, but he can't be moved for a few days. Dembe doesn't like it, but I'm more concerned about his wound healing than I am about Red being in anything less than 500 thread count sheets with Evian flowing from the taps. I'm heading home for a quick shower and change of clothes, then I'm going back to oversee the guard shift change at midnight," she informed her boss.
"I'm glad he's okay. And Elizabeth? If you need to talk to someone – about anything – you know my door is always open," he said, hoping the insinuation of her actually really needing to talk to someone would not be lost on her. He knew they, at minimum, had a tight bond and that this was deeply affecting her.
She parked in front of the building and looked up at what must have been ten or twelve stories of a renovated factory turned apartment complex called The Savoy Shoe Factory. It was a rather quiet neighborhood with lantern-like lamps lining the streets and cherry blossom trees in the height of their glorious bloom.
Making her way up the seventh floor and to the apartment at the end of the hall, she took a deep breath in and unlocked the door. Once inside, she gasped out loud, covering her mouth. Tears of surprise and joy began to pool in her eyes and she scanned around taking in the completely furnished loft and all the personal touches that spoke to her heart. They told her that Red paid attention to her, all that she said and even what she did not say. They told her how much he cared. That even though he knew she could be upset with him again for such a wild gesture, that he cared more for her mental and physical wellbeing than about whether she would be pissed at him for doing it.
The bathroom was fully stocked with all her favorite things and deliciously fluffy towels. There was no need to go all the way back to the motel, so she took her shower and got cleaned up at her new place, deciding that to truly know if she could accept such a gift, she should at least give it a try. Everything was decadent, she felt like a princess.
Feeling renewed and a renewed sense of purpose, she made her way back to the hospital with urgency. As she parked, she kept a mental dialogue of everything she wanted to say to Red. To start by thanking him for walking through fire for her, twenty years ago and still today. To thank him for protecting her from herself, even when it made her insane. And finally, to admit that their once fledgling partnership had blossomed in her heart into the deepest love that she had ever known for anyone.
She was careful to tiptoe down the hall to his room, fearing her heeled boots on the shiny tiled floor could wake the dead. It was going on midnight and she was happy to be able get to his room before the guard changeover. She had to get to him before she lost her nerve.
Oddly, the door to his room was parted. As the guard saw her coming, he started toward her with both hands raised toward her.
"He has a visitor," was all the ominous guard would say. She flashed her badge at him and he retreated.
She peeked in quietly, not wanting to disturb if he and Mr. Kaplan were having a moment. She was met with a sight she never expected.
Madeline Pratt sat next to him, exactly as Liz had just hours before, stroking his face and whispering endearments over and over to him and he faded in and out of consciousness.
"Red, Red, please don't leave me. I was wrong…and, and I have decided to forgive you for Florence," she said with the most insincere sounding tearful voice Liz had ever heard. She leaned down and kissed his forehead a few times, knotting Liz's stomach.
She couldn't stand to watch any more of this. She turned quickly to leave and cared not that hot tears streaked her face and ugly sobs escaped. The kind nurse that had handed her the envelope saw her in the hallway and tried to hand her a tissue, tried to ask her if everything was okay but Liz just covered her face and bolted for the door.
If Madeline Pratt is what he wanted, she wouldn't get in the way.
She just had to first convince herself that she could let him go.