Hey guys this is a inlet at what exactly is going on with the cocktail of emotions that is Donald Ressler, written through the eyes of a keenler shipper. I hope you all enjoy!
Right before she murders the Attorney General of the United States of America, Ressler leads a search through her motel room; if he stood in certain corners, or as he opened the top drawer of the dingy dresser, he caught faint whiffs of his cologne. It doesn't take them long enough to get a search warrant, she told him that she was innocent,
The smell of her perfume was everywhere, clouding his senses as he searched for potential plans or motives for killing a United States senator, even though he knows that she's been framed.
As the agents around him pack all of her belongings in bags, he noticed for the first time just how much she's changed him, he swipes the bottle of Miss Dior from the vinyl bathroom counter, dropping it in his briefcase.
He took two other things from the site.
The first is a framed picture of them in front of the Ravens stadium in Baltimore. She had always been amused with his fetish for football, however she was determined to figure out what the appeal of it was. His brother and his sister in-law bought four tickets for them to attend the game with another couple, but the other couple had to back out suddenly. When his brother called him, they weren't expecting him to buy both, and were even more excited to meet her. The picture itself was of the two standing in front of the newly unveiled Ray Lewis statue, Liz with her arms around his waist and him with his arms around hers. They both wore shit-eating grins, and if he had kept track of those kinds of things, he would have said that it was his favorite photo.
The last thing he took was her stash of Vogue and Vanity Fairs, picking out the three oldest editions of each, in order to keep from rousing any suspicion with Forensics. He knew that if they caught a whiff of this that he'd be fired within the moment. However, he also knows that he probably will be anyway, his drug addiction a ticking time bomb in his memory, something that he's not so sure he can keep his promise for if she's not here with him.
"He's such an asshole," Agent Navabi cursed, throwing back the rest of her shot glass. "It's like… as soon as he gets the chance to move up a rung on the corporate ladder he disregards all previous values."
She shook her head in disgust, glancing to her left at an enthusiastically nodding Aram.
"He nearly killed me," she whispered, hanging her head in defeat.
Aram's eyes widened in alarm, involuntarily moving closer to her in the round booth.
"What?" he asked, his voice oozing with venom it did not usually possess.
She immediately schooled her features; the hand that was empty of alcohol snaked around his back to knead circles into the tense muscle.
"Don't worry yourself," she said, attempting to soothe him. "I don't know, he has always been uptight, by-the-book, but the way he commanded us today, there was another force at work, something I had no idea he was capable of."
The pair sat in silence for a few minutes; Samar, in the process of attempting to figure out what the hell had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and Aram reminding himself that Samar was still here.
"Oh my god," Aram blurted out once they had arrived at her car in the parking lot, a drizzle leading to a light fog. "It's like Mako Tanida all over again.
Samar flashed him a puzzled look.
"What?"
He tapped his fingers on the hood of her car, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
"Before you joined the task force, Agent Ressler had a fiancé. Her name was Audrey Bidwell. A former associate of Reddington placed a hit on Agent Ressler, and Audrey was killed in the crossfire. She bled out in his arms."
He shook his head, opening his eyes in the process.
"Director Cooper dispatched him, but that didn't stop him. I had never seen someone so… raw. When he found out that his best friend was the one who turned on him, he attempted to force him to commit seppuku. Liz saved him from going any further, and in the end Jonica killed himself."
Samar was at a loss for words, a silent tear falling from her eye.
"I've seen him like this before too, when Agent Malik was murdered. He takes these things personally. Yeah he can be a jackass, but he's mad at himself. Agent Ressler acts like the big shot, but no one hates him more than he does. The only person who allowed him to open up to the world was Liz, and now she's gone and betrayed him. I think I'd act the same way if it was you instead of her," he confessed, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck.
She considered him for a moment; his tan skin an eerie contrast to the pale atmosphere surrounding them. Grabbing the collar of his jacket, she pulled him forward and planted her lips on his.
"I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."
Ressler climbed into the bed for two in his apartment, spraying her perfume across her pillow. She was sleeping in an embassy tonight while he was sleeping in their bed. The world is so cruel, he thought to himself as he faces the empty side of the bed, his hand caressing the sheets that usually covered her body.
He knew he wasn't going to sleep tonight, and the bottle in the medicine cabinet above his sink mocked him as he juggled his options. Without her, there was simply no point.
Yanking the lamp chain, the room was engulfed in darkness, and then, only then, did he allow himself the luxury of crying.
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