A/N: Hey guys! It's been awhile since I've written a Keenler fic, but they desperately need some love right now. I don't know if s6 will be their season or not, but if it's not, we better get renewed for s7! This fic takes place at some point in the future, after the duffle bag mayhem is over with. The first part of the fic is kind of like a walk down memory lane, just to remember why we fell in love with them in the first place. But, confession: I didn't watch s4 or the first half of s5 so I'm sorry if any of that info is off, I did the best I could. (I tried to watch, but Liz was so frustrating and Tom Keen is my unofficial nemesis.) There will probably be at least one more chapter after this one, so stay tuned and let me know if you have any ideas!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist, and unfortunately, Donald Ressler is not mine.
There was a time in his life where Donald Ressler thought that maybe, just maybe, he would end up with Elizabeth Keen.
The woman that came into his life unexpectedly, without warning, and made his life hell for the first few weeks he knew her. He didn't trust her with an ounce of his being, and didn't want the business of being her partner.
But nonetheless, they were thrusted into a partnership neither one of them particularly asked for. They were forced to work on case after case together, all the while she had chats with Raymond Reddington, the man Donald Ressler hated more than anything. And for awhile, it was her mysterious relationship with the criminal that led to Ressler being so arrogant and cold towards her. His resentment was 50% suspicion, but the other 50% was professional jealousy. He hated admitting it, but he was jealous of Elizabeth Keen for being able to bring in Reddington her first day on the job, while he chased the man for over five years.
Slowly though, he got over himself. The more he got to know Liz, the more his arrogance disappeared. If someone were to ask him what the turning point was for him, he'd say it was the aftermath of The Stewmaker. It was then that he realized, while holding the broken woman in his arms, that she didn't want Raymond Reddington in her life. She didn't ask for him to turn himself in, just like she didn't ask to be almost killed by one of the cases he assigned them. While he held her in the dark forest, trying his best to soothe her sobs, his anger dissipated and he was left feeling empathetic and sorry.
Then there was the invasion of Anslo Garrick. This time he was the one seconds from death, clinging onto the hope that somehow his team could get him out in time. He remembers listening to Red's long monologue in the box, giving him the hope and the motivation to keep fighting. However, as Ressler weakly drifted in and out of consciousness, he was sure he wouldn't live to see another day. But then, that son of a bitch put a gun to her head, and he felt his heart race more than it had the whole time he'd been laying there. When he looked up and saw her defenseless on her knees, he knew he'd be ignoring Cooper's orders. She couldn't die. He wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't ever be able to live with himself. So he uttered the code, erupting a new wave of chaos, but she was safe. And that was all that mattered.
After that, all bets were off. He felt himself gradually get closer to her; the more pain he saw that she was in the more he wanted to be there for her. And god, did he ever hate Tom. Ressler wanted nothing more than to see that man gone for good, and he was willing to make it happen himself. But Liz constantly gave him the benefit of the doubt, and even though Ressler would never admit it himself, he felt a stab in his heart every time she went back to him.
So that night, when she showed up at his door after 10pm, he thought she was finally done with him. He thought that maybe she'd seen the light, and he was glad he was the one she turned to. And although they were brought together that night by her pain and conflicts, he still thinks about that time with her more often than not. When she first walked through the door she was guarded and apprehensive. But by some magic, he slowly tore down her walls. He made her dinner to start with, which was actually just pancakes and eggs, but his charming attempt made her crack a small smile nonetheless. They never talked about why she was there; he knew why, she didn't need to tell him. But there was an unspoken appreciation and understanding between the two of them and they both could feel it. So after she was finished eating, he could tell she had gotten more comfortable. They had a beer together and watched "Casino Royale", one of only four movies Ressler had in his apartment. That fact in itself made Liz smile, it was so predictable of him.
They sat on the couch, their arms brushing, sipping their beers and watching the movie. About an hour in, she rested her head on his shoulder and he did everything he could not to react to it. He did, however, wrap his arm around her shoulder. It was a casual move. Or, that's what he had tried to convince himself of. But he did know that this woman was going to be the death of him.
Which is what made it all the more frustrating that she kept in contact with Tom, never allowing herself to get over the man that lied to her about his identity and worse, attacked her. Even when she claimed not to know where he was, Ressler knew she did. Over the months of them working together, he had learned how to read her quite well.
And in turn, she had learned how to read him. Which he absolutely hated. She was the only one to notice the change in him during his addiction, and he could feel her eyes on him every time he walked in a few minutes late to work or snapped a little too suddenly. At the time, it frustrated him. He just wanted to be alone, do his thing, and not get ridiculed for it. But if he had his way, if she weren't there...he doesn't even want to think about where he'd be now. He credits her for pulling him out of the dark hole he was burying himself in.
What happened in Alaska was an eye-opener for sure; the man had never been so close to being outright murdered before. But if he thought his shaking hands stripped him from his pride at all, he had another thing coming for him when Liz appeared with the bottle of pills in her hand. It was then that he broke down, realizing what he had done and how it had almost costed him his life. But she was there. She was always there.
And when she admitted to him just a week later that the prospect of having to live without him was terrifying, he knew he was done for. This woman was not going anywhere if he had anything to say about it, he had become somewhat dependent on her. Not in the way that he needed her, he didn't "need" anybody, but he simply wouldn't know what he'd do without her. The feeling scared him and intrigued him all at once.
And that was why, when another week passed and she told him everything about Tom, he wanted nothing more than to throw the asshole behind bars. But while he felt anger towards the fact that all of this had happened between her and her estranged husband, he also felt content that she reached out to him of all people. And then, when Tom implied that Ressler was her boyfriend, his feelings got all kinds of messed up. He doesn't like to think about the amount of times he's replayed that sentence over in his head.
But it was during those times that he thought maybe he would end up with Elizabeth Keen. When he came into work every morning and looked for her before anyone else. When he smiled a smile that he quickly realized was only reserved for her. When he looked into her eyes and found a home. When she looked right back at him, and he thought that maybe she felt the same things.
But he never did anything about it. Of course he didn't. Donald Ressler wasn't the type of man to act on his feelings, especially when they concerned a woman he worked with. Even after what happened in Alaska, he still had a little bit of pride left and he didn't want it all disappearing in the span of a few months. Looking back though, he thinks that maybe he should've went for it when he had the chance. But then he stops himself, because that's selfish and he doesn't like feeling like a selfish man. Liz had Agnes and despite Ressler's personal feelings about the guy, she got to live out her love story with Tom.
But still, it doesn't make looking back on memories like the night of her birthday any easier. It was a time where he was almost certain they had mutual feelings for each other, and even though it was years ago now, he still surprises himself with how he acted that night. He tore down all of his walls for her, spent over fifty dollars on Wing Yee, and smiled more than he had in months. But nothing about that night was forced. Feeling that light and carefree around her was easy to do. It came naturally to him, just like he could feel it came naturally to her.
So now, although he's gotten very good at suppressing those feelings, he knows they're still there. He feels them rear their head when she looks at him a certain way or when they're storming a building together, knowing either one of them could be shot or taken or anything of the nature. And god, did he ever feel them when he thought she was dead. Both times.
When she was on the run and Reddington staged her death - when Ressler saw her body on national television in the courtroom - he was ready to give up everything. His heart experienced a pain he had never felt before and he was so angry with himself for not getting her back before it happened. Because all along, he knew something would happen to her. Reddington couldn't keep her safe from everything. And every night Liz was on the run was another night Ressler stayed awake restless for hours. It was the first time since getting clean that he wanted to take something, anything, just so he could numb the pain. But he thought of her (as usual, it was extremely rare to find him thinking of anything else at this point), and he knew that would be the last thing she wanted for him.
So he stayed strong. For her. Even when he thought she was dead for those few moments. Those few, very raw and very real moments. Moments he'll never forget for as long as he lives.
Moments that he thought would only happen once, but damn, that woman likes faking her death. The second time was different. He saw her body, he saw her lying limp and pale with his own eyes, and he was sure Dembe could physically hear the shatter of his heart. And again, he was angry. Because he wasn't able to protect her like he was supposed to as her partner.
The second time was also different in regards to her life. She was with Tom, in love with Tom, and they were trying to raise a family. The details of that always pained Ressler, but again, he thought he was being selfish. He was glad she was happy, truly. But dammit, he still couldn't believe Tom was even around.
Surprisingly, however, he didn't give one thought to Tom when he was raiding the house she was being held in. When he saw her - standing, alive, healthy, beautiful - she was the one and only thing on his mind. They had one of those looks again, the one that made him feel at home, and he didn't care how much vulnerability he showed in his eyes. He had only experienced that same intense feeling of relief once previously - when he found out she was alive a year before. And when they shared that hug - that all-consuming, breathtaking hug - he felt like she was his. Just for a moment. He held her while she cried into him, and he felt comfort as her hands sought warmth and solace in his back. He wanted to hold her forever.
And these days, when he catches himself looking at her and he still sees the pain in her eyes, he wants to hold her like that again. He wants her to know that one day, everything will be okay. He wants her to know that he's on her side and he's not going anywhere. He wants her to know that he will protect her, he will follow her to the other ends of the Earth, and he will do absolutely anything for her.
Elizabeth Keen has made him powerless.
But he doesn't care.
He tried to care. For so long, he tried. He tried to push all thoughts of her out of his mind. When a romantic song came on in his car, he muted it, because it reminded him of Liz. When a commercial came on his TV that featured a couple, he turned off the damn TV and picked up the newspaper instead.
But he's done caring.
Clearly. Because right now, he's standing in front of her door like a true idiot with a case of beer in hand. Naturally, he had come right from work and still wore the same suit she had seen him in just hours before. For a couple of minutes, he doesn't knock. He doesn't know if he should. He realizes how pathetic he must look, standing in front of her door without making another move. And for the love of god, what was he going to say when she opened the door? What lame excuse was he going to give her? Would she even let him in? What was even his goal in coming over?
"Are you going to knock or stand out there all night like an idiot?"
Her voice through the door startles him. Of course she had been watching him. At least she agrees with the idiot part, he thinks to himself. He cracks his signature, boyish smile as he looks through the peephole. Seconds later, he hears the locks being undone and the door opens, revealing Liz and a smile that somewhat mirrors his own.
"You sigh very heavily," she explains simply as she steps aside, letting him into her home. Had he really been sighing to himself? God, he was pathetic.
"I brought beer," he answers, his arm lifting ever so slightly to show her. Her smile grows a little at his method of dodging the comment, and she shuts the door behind him. He still felt awkward though, and he wanted to show her that this stop of his was casual. It was casual, right? God, hell if he knew, but he didn't want her reading too much into this. "I uh, I figured we were due for another Bond night."
A small laugh escapes her and as she leans her back against the door, she shrugs. "Well, which one did you bring?"
Fuck.
"I...didn't." The admission isn't surprising to Liz, she knew this, which is what made this visit so amusing and intriguing to her. She pushes herself off the door and walks past Ressler, heading into her living room.
"Good thing I have a bigger movie collection than you do," she teases, and a small grin flashes across Ressler's face as he sets the beer down on the counter and shrugs off his coat. He was going to take that as a 'yes, we can have a movie night'. He rests his jacket on the back of one of the chairs and turns around, seeing Liz bent down by her TV stand. "I've got 'Skyfall', 'License to Kill', and 'Die Another Day'. Take your pick." She looks back at him, and as he takes two beers out of the case, he ponders the options for a moment.
"'Die Another Day'," he answers, and with a quick flick of his thumb he opens the first beer bottle. He repeats the same action with the second, and she shakes her head at him. Of course he doesn't need an actual bottle opener. It was something so predictable about him, and small actions like that made her think she knew him. But clearly she didn't, because Jesus Christ, he's in her freaking apartment. He catches her staring at him, and he smugly raises an eyebrow.
"What, Keen? Wrong choice? We can watch whatever one you want, I don't care." He takes a sip of his beer and walks into the living room, setting her bottle down on the coffee table.
"No, it's fine," she tells him with another shake of her head. She looks at the beer on the table then and tells him, "Use a coaster."
He smiles as he grabs two coasters from the end of the table and places them under their beer. She takes the movie out of its place, but before doing anything with it, she looks at him like she has an idea. Ressler raises another eyebrow, his hands on his hips as he looks at her curiously. "What, Liz?"
"We can't have another movie night without pancakes and eggs." This makes him laugh out loud, and she ignores the sudden skip of her heartbeat at the sight of his smile. As he shakes his head in a sheepish way, her own smile grows. "I'm serious," she persists, and sets the movie down on the coffee table before moving to the kitchen. "I haven't eaten yet, and it looks like you came right from work, so I imagine you haven't either."
She was right, and at the mention of food, Ressler feels his hunger. "Alright," he surrenders. He follows her into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. The kitchen is a small space, and they're both well aware of each other's close proximity. But they move around each other as if they've been making dinner together for years, and every accidental brush of shoulders isn't at all accidental. Ressler wouldn't admit that though.
As Ressler tends the pancakes and Liz works at the eggs, they fall into an easy conversation. They don't talk about work or Reddington, surprisingly, but they both embrace the fact. Instead, Ressler brings up memories from his childhood and as he tells Liz a story about his mom, she can't help but smile warmly. Seeing this side of Ressler was so refreshing and didn't come out nearly enough. In their complicated history she had only seen him at ease like this a few times, and almost all of those times had been before she went on the run with Reddington. She frequently thinks about how different they were before everything went to shit, and comparing the 'before and after' of their partnership often leaves her down in the dumps. She regrets what she did to him the most. The man who had always been there for her, no matter what, always ended up being the one who got the short end of the stick.
But right now, as she glances over at him and sees a genuine smile on his face, she decides that trend needs to come to an end. He deserves more than that, deserves more than her, frankly, and she was well aware of the fact. But her period of darkness is finally over with, and standing in her small kitchen with Ressler is giving her a feeling of lightness that she's long forgotten about. It's the same lightness she felt on her birthday all those years ago, and the memory places another warm smile on her face.
"Pancakes are done."
"Eggs are too."
They eat at her breakfast bar in silence, each feeling nostalgic as they remember the night she showed up at his door and had this exact meal. Ressler was glad she hadn't forgotten about it; it made him less embarrassed to admit he thought about that night a lot.
"Pancakes, eggs, beer, and Bond," he muses, and they both release a soft chuckle at the interesting combination.
"I think it should become our tradition," she comments, and a small smile graces both of their faces at her words. "It's really nice, being with you like this. It's been way too long. Life really got in the way for awhile." Her voice is soft but genuine, and the look he gives her mirrors just that.
"A lot has happened," he says. "A lot probably will happen. But you always have me, Liz."
At that, she delicately covers his hand with hers. Ressler can feel the heat rise to his cheeks but he prays to God she doesn't notice. They exchange a warm look of trust and admiration, and something so much deeper, but neither one of them are ready to face it just yet. So she slowly retreats her hand from his, but not before giving it a gentle squeeze. When his hand is free, he immediately wishes it wasn't.
They finish eating, and in the same smooth pattern as before, they clean things up around the kitchen. By now, Ressler has taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Liz would be lying if she said the new look had no effect on her.
When they finally make it back into the living room, Liz inserts the movie into her DVD player and takes her place on the couch. But unlike their last night like this, tonight she wastes no time in resting her head on his shoulder and his arm is wrapped around hers in the next instant. Her eyes close, relishing the feel of his body so close to hers, and she's pleasantly surprised when she feels his fingers drawing small patterns over her clothing.
He knows this isn't casual anymore. Whatever this was - it certainly couldn't be described using the word 'casual'. Partners just don't cuddle on the couch together and make dinner in a seemingly well-rehearsed pattern. They were starting to cross a line. Again. But he doesn't care. He's not going to let her slip out of his life again.
Forty-five minutes into the movie, he gets up to replace their now empty beer bottles. As he wanders into the kitchen, he can't help but smile to himself. Whatever was happening between them, it felt right. And he already knew this would be one of those instances with her that he'd be replaying in his mind over and over.
She offers him a small 'thanks' when he returns with another beer, and they each take a small sip before adjusting back to their now familiar position. She's relieved when he picks up where he left off with the mindless tracing on her shoulder, and the fact that she knows she's relieved is something she doesn't want to pick apart too much.
But God, did it feel right. Not just the act of his fingers drawing random shapes on her shoulder, but everything. Being with him. Listening to him tell her stories about her childhood. Cooking with him. Watching a movie with him. Her feelings, although all positive, also scared the shit out of her.
The last time she loved, she lost. And in the process, she also lost her child. Liz wasn't sure if she was in the right state of mind to be with someone again, especially Ressler. Ressler was intense, bold, intelligent, and way too good for her. Once upon a time, she imagined what life would be like with him. But that was years ago - before she was a fugitive, before she was a mother, before she decided to give Tom one last chance, and before she lost him and ended up in a coma herself. Before that fucking duffle bag.
A whole lot of shit happened. But for once, her life was back to some sort of variation of simplicity. She went to work every day, came home at a decent time, and started hanging out with Samar on the weekends to help her plan the wedding. And now, apparently, she was planning future movie nights with Ressler.
And Ressler, God, he had stuck by her through everything. He saved her ass more than once when she was on the run, he respectively voiced his concern about her marrying Tom but only because he cared about her, and he was a big help with the nightmare saga of the duffle bag. He worked with her and Jennifer to find out the truth about 'Reddington', and did things she didn't even ask him to do, things that compromised some of his values. But he did them for her. And in return, she wasn't even sure if she ever said thank you.
"I'm sorry," she says then, her voice carried with a sigh. He furrows his eyebrows and adjusts himself to look at her, his face showing concern and confusion.
"About what?"
"Everything, Ressler," she tells him sadly. She meets his eyes and sits up more, picking her feet up and resting them underneath her. "I've treated you like shit, but you're still here."
"You haven't treated me like shit, Liz," he urges her softly. He studies her as she fiddles with her beer bottle, and his hand travels back to her shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
"You deserved to know about me faking my death, if not the first time then definitely the second." She shakes her head, as if she can't believe her actions. "I shouldn't have put you through that pain, Ress."
"It's okay Liz, it was to protect you," he reasoned softly. "Reddington didn't even know about the second time." At the mention of his name, she snorts. It was still a sensitive subject. But before he could apologize, she continues.
"I'm still sorry," she tells him, and the defeated look she gives him makes Ressler want to pull her close. "I just got so involved in Tom's way of doing things - God, I was so blinded for such a long time. And you always faced the brunt of it, and that wasn't fair. I took you for granted. I probably hurt you so much over the years, and I'm so sorry for that." Her facial expression is genuine and he can tell how hurt she is over her past actions, but while he appreciates the apology, it wasn't needed.
"Liz," he starts, his hand softly rubbing her arm now for comfort. "The past few years have been rough, I'll admit that, but I've forgiven you already. Every time you did something a little brash or a little hurtful, I understood. Trust me. Reddington - or whoever the hell he is - put you in impossible predicaments and you had to do what you felt necessary. I can't blame you for that. And hell, you reacted better than I probably would have." He offers an encouraging smile, but she still looks unsure. "You've been through so much, Liz, you're allowed to go a little off the rails sometimes. God knows I have before."
She's brought back to the battle against Mako Tanida again, and the scene of Ressler in the snow-covered forest. He had definitely been "off the rails", but just like her, he had loved and he had lost. He could understand her pain of losing Tom and Agnes, because he had lost Audrey and his unborn child.
And as she remembers his pain, she takes his hand that had been resting on her arm. They share a small, solemn smile and through their facial expressions, they can tell they understand each other. Nothing more needed to be said. As Liz looks at Ressler, she can see a mirror image of her soul in his.
And Ressler thinks that maybe, just maybe, it's finally his time to be with Elizabeth Keen.
"True love is the soul's recognition of its counterpoint in another." - The Wedding Crashers