A/N-This story just wouldn't leave me alone until it was written. I own nothing, and I make no money. All errors are my own. Please let me know what you think!
It was bound to happen sooner or later.
All good things must end.
Red and Liz, traversing the globe, marking off names one after another.
When spending so much time in close proximity to another human being, you know their mannerisms, their quirks. Red knows that Lizzie squeezes toothpaste from the middle. Liz knows that Red shaves twice per day, because he can't stand the feel of stubble.
Her first glance of Red, in the box at the Blacksite, was 4 years ago.
Their first kiss, was 2 years ago.
After that first tentative meeting of lips, something had broken, a well of unshared feelings, overflowing for both of them. They spent every night they could together.
Were things perfect? Hardly. Red and his infuriating stories that told their own stories. Lizzie and her inability to open up unless provoked.
The one place they didn't disagree was in bed, or really any surface. As long as they were together, in those moments, nothing else mattered.
They knew they were walking a fine line. Trying to hide their feelings from the Bureau and everyone around them was difficult. More so for Liz, as she was a terrible liar. Improving, but still not on par with Red, even after all these years.
Their operation was a fairly simple one. The Transporter was holding girls, young girls. A new shipment like clockwork every 6 months for the past 25 years. Each time was a different handler, a different location, and different players. However, the Transporter was always one step ahead of every group of law enforcement. He was always careful to clean all traces of himself and his workers after a sale.
They had the time, the place, and grainy photos of the players. It would have to be enough, of they would have to wait another half a year to try again.
Go in, get the Transporter, save the girls. Simple.
They had broken up into 2 teams. Liz, Red, and Dembe were supposed to free the girls. Samar, Ressler, and a team of 4 Black Ops FBI team Members were to take down the Transporter.
The warehouse was in the meatpacking district. Abandoned and filthy. 4 Stories of graffiti with the intermittent squatter looking to escape the elements.
Like clockwork, the teams assembled, coving the grounds like an army of ants, taking down everyone in their path.
Red was ecstatic. He could have Lizzie home in a decadent bubble bath by 10.
They reached a room of glass, packed with girls. The 3 guards outside, hit the floor like stones, before they even realized they had been breached.
"Found the cargo" Liz spoke into her Comm unit. The oldest couldn't be more than 16. She had to stay detached. These cases were always the hardest. Red passed Lizzie, his hand rubbed along her back. Looking into her eyes "You ok?" "Fine, we just need to get this over with."
Dembe finally spoke "We can't get to the girls without a code, this box is wired. If we enter the wrong code, this room will detonate. We could break the glass and hope the bomb isn't triggered, but there's too many girls, we would injure some of them in the attempt."
Liz and Red were sweeping the room, looking for documents on the few raised spaces in the open area. A few desks, but they contain nothing pertinent.
"Well, I suppose we will have to hope that dear Donald doesn't make a mess of the remaining henchmen and the Transporter- " Thinking of all the dead bodies they left littering the floors along the way, he stated "because we were slightly less successful in that endeavor."
Red was nearing the stairwell, partially blocked from their view, when someone grabbed him from behind, forcing him down a construction garbage chute before he could get a single shot off.
Red and his assailant dropped unceremoniously in a painful heap. Heaven knows how many floors. His suit was surely ruined, his hat gone. The wind knocked out of him, he laid still assessing his limbs to be sure nothing was broken.
The sound of multiple guns cocking and an unarmed man, assumedly in charge, as he had a radio that was crackling "We have her, she's been hit, but should make it to the Office alright. We left the bodyguard to bleed out."
Red's heart clenched at the implications of the transmission, but his face stayed impassive. Even as one of the henchmen grabbed his arm and forced him to his feet, his face showed nothing of the turmoil inside of him.
"We are going to my Office, where you will give every piece of information you have on the Fulcrum and why you are playing house with the FBI."
"Oh, I don't think I will, but I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough."
Red was led to the edge of the basement, where a pile of concrete was obstructing a hole in the wall. Tunnels. Well that wasn't on the Blue Prints.
Being forced through a number of winding, crudely dug tunnels, barely tall enough to stand in, was stifling. The tunnels soon gave way to what appeared to be the subway. For almost an hour, they walked, Red assessing the strengths and weaknesses of his 5 escorts, ready to move if presented with an opportunity.
No, he didn't have a gun, but as these gentlemen were nice enough to bring many, it was an easily remedies problem, as far as he was concerned.
When they arrived at their supposed destination, it was another basement, entirely concrete. One long corridor with 8 doors lining the sides. He was forced into the first one and left alone.
A metal cot, a toilet, a chair. All bolted to the ground. I've had worse accommodations.
His watch showed that an hour had passed and there was a scrambling of feet in the hallway. Red jumped to his feet, pressing his ear to the metal door, hoping to hear anything of use.
"Get her on the bed. If she dies, then she can't be used against him."
Lizzie. Red is hopeless to listen as they move her into the room next to him. Tears spill over as he thinks of what condition she may be in. Dembe. The team had better of gotten to him in time. However, he was not holding his breath. His friend, his brother, could very well be dead. While is love, his reason for existing, was dying next to him.
As grief nearly consumed him, rage was gaining a foothold. He wouldn't think of the possibilities. He would think only of exactly how he was going to kill every single man in this facility.
Red sat calmly in the chair facing the door. He would be ready.
5 hours later the screams started. They were garbled, unrecognizable. She was in pain. "Scream for him. Scream for Red. Tell him to save you! Tell him to talk." End your misery!"
Red's eyes snapped open. He had dozed, hoping to conserve energy for what was to come. He wasn't prepared for them to torture Lizzie. He thought they would start with him. He was wrong. So wrong.
His breathing deep and labored, keeping his rage and helplessness at bay. Her screams choking him, making it hard to keep from screaming himself.
"RED!" Her screams of agony continued endlessly. He couldn't take it.
He stood up, pounded on the door. "Stop!" "Lizzie!"
His yelling was met with silence, just a few muffled whimpers from her cell. Footsteps.
He backed away from his door. Ready for the confrontation. Ready for them to focus on him.
The man in charge and 2 men with guns stepped into the room.
"Where is the Fulcrum and how do I get the information off of it?"
"Let her go first. You get nothing while she is here."
"I thought you might feel that way so I brought you a present."
A small paper shopping bag, blood dripping from the bottom, was placed on his bed. "We will give time to contemplate…and listen."
Red moved to rush towards him only to be stopped by a guard with a gun at his forehead. Calm. If I'm dead, no one can help her.
He stepped back as they slammed the door and locked it.
Turning to approach the bed, Red picked up the bag to glance inside. His eyes clenched and pain lanced through his gut at the pain she must have felt. Her ear. Her beautiful ear. Nothing could be heard but the sounds of his quiet sobs.
It's after midnight, Liz is laying down, head pounding. So tired, but she didn't dare fall asleep. She needs to stay awake in case she hears from Red.
All she can think of is Red. She can endure anything, if only she can be sure she will see him again.
She knows she doesn't tell him enough, intimacy is hard for her. It's hard to open up as much as she had for him. He is everything. She has to think of a way to get him out of this, with no thought of the consequences for herself. She will get him out and people will die. To hell with the FBI and whatever ramifications she'll face. If she's even still alive at the end of this mess.
"Take me!...Stop this! She knows nothing! If you want answers, I have answers!"
Hours later, their captors had brought him an ear, seven fingers, and a foot. Red was mindless in his grief and fury. All he could hear was her screams!
Sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth, he know she is dead. Gone.
Tears run unchecked down his face mixing with snot and dirt from the floor as he knelt on the ground, pleading for her life. He can hear no sounds other than her screams. His voice is just a hoarse scratching noise from all of the hours he's screamed for them to stop.
They murdered her. He told them what little details he knew. It still wasn't enough to save her. When they were sawing off her foot, she bled out. The leader, yelling at how stupid they were. That they needed her to get to the fulcrum.
Red had failed. She was gone and with her, everything that mattered in his life. They had taken everything from him.
Then, an explosion rocked the building, shouts and screams filling the air. Still Red did not move, just stared sightlessly at the walls. Rocking, always rocking.
Minutes later, Liz leading the charge, the entire building was scrubbed of vermin, they came to his cell. Guns at the ready, they were prepped for anything. Dembe was carrying a large med kit on the arm that wasn't holding his gun. They were both worried, but the Transporter had only been holding Red for a day. He had been through much worse over the years. Many times over.
Liz just hoped he was in better shape than the poor woman in the room next to him. Her mutilated corpse would give her nightmares, but she'd worry about that after they took care of Red. He has to be ok.
They were wholly unprepared for the sight of Raymond Reddington, rocking and sobbing, on the floor of his cell. Liz dropped to her knees in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders, uncaring of the dirt and grime. "Red, you're ok, when you disappeared, it took hours to track you down, and once we saw the body next door-"
She couldn't stop running her hands over his body. He was silent and that most always meant he was in pain. She just couldn't find any breaks or other injuries. "Dembe, please"
"Raymond, what is wrong, brother?" Still nothing. Red hadn't even looked at them. Staring off into space, still crying, he had no idea they were even there. "Liz, we need to go, we have no idea if reinforcements will come."
As Dembe bent in front of Red to pick him up, Red went crazy. "No! Lizzie! Please let me see her. I have to stay with her!"
"Get the Morphine, Liz! I'll hold him-" Fumbling through the med bag, trying to see through her unshed tears, Liz grabbed the syringe. She rushed around behind them, and stabbed it into Red's backside. It may have been rough, but Red was clearly in distress and they couldn't delay any longer.
Within moments, Red had quieted and slumped against Dembe. Dembe hoisted Red up in a fireman's carry while Liz grabbed their weapons and the Med bag, leading the men out.
They had planned to take Red to a secure safe house, not knowing the condition he would be in. Mr. Kaplan was already there, but Liz knew that it wasn't his body that was broken.
It had been days and Red wasn't responding to anyone. His body was healed from the minor bumps and bruises. Liz was holding off the FBI by telling them that he wasn't fully recovered. If they assumed it was because of a physical injury- that was on them.
Liz never left his side, spoon feeding him, making sure he stayed hydrated. If Red knew that it was her taking care of his bodily functions, he would probably kill her. She couldn't stand the thought of someone else caring for him.
She read to him at night, talked to him throughout the day as if he were just fine. She never forgot to remind him how much she loved him and needed him to come back to her.
The nightmares. He screamed for her. From his dreams she was able to ascertain that the Transporter had tortured Red by torturing her. As if her heart needed one more crack in it. Red needed her to be strong though. She would fall apart when it was over.
Liz was bringing in a tray of tea for Red, trying to keep his routine normal. She ended up tripping and falling, porcelain breaking everywhere. "Shit, of course I would make a huge mess on the day that Dembe went to get more supplies. This will take forever to clean."
Resigning herself to cleaning the mess up alone, she reached for the largest piece angrily. "Damn it!" The cut on her hand immediately dripping crimson liquid all over the carpet.
At her outcry, Red's head whipped towards her.
"Lizzie?"
Her head snapped to Red. "Red, oh my god, I'm so happy to hear your voice! I'll be right over there, but I am bleeding all over the place and I need to clean this up. Don't move, there's a mess"
"You're bleeding?! I'm too late" His moans of distress increasing, causing her to prioritize. She had to go to him.
Wrapping a towel around her hand, she avoided the shards and liquid, and climbed on the bed with Red.
"Red, Red! I'm here. It's me. You're ok, it's fine." He was shaking his head, eyes closed to her. "Red!"
He wasn't listening. So she slapped him. All of her worry over that previous days bleeding out into that one action.
"Lizzie?...How? Why?" He finally looked at her. YES!
"Red, it's ok, we're ok now."
In an instant, Red had his arms around her, nearly crushing her. She was so happy that he was back, tears welling in her eyes. "You were dead. They brought me pieces of you."
"It wasn't me. They never had me. After you disappeared in the warehouse, Dembe and I searched everywhere for you. Ressler's team arrested 7 of the Transporter's men and they eventually talked. They are slightly worse for wear, but that's not my problem." Her voice broke mid explanation "I…I'm so happy that you came back to me. I love you."
"You cannot fathom the depths of hell I have just awaken from. Where you were gone and there was nothing I could do to save you. I need you more than the air I breathe. I love you so damned much, Lizzie. I can't lose you again."
"Stop wandering around without me in warehouses and you won't" Her small smile was alight with the joy she felt at having him almost back to normal.
"How many men are alive from where I was held?" His voice deepening with feeling.
"None." That one word, speaking volumes of her rage.
"I may have gone a little crazy when we found out where you were being held and that they were hurting you. Dembe and I may have dropped a bunch of bodies all over that building."
"Dembe has recovered? He's alright as well? How long was I out of it?"
Lizzie spoke through her tears "9 days, 12 hours, and…32 minutes since we've found you. Dembe wasn't hurt. He was with me the entire time, they lied to you. After we found you, Mr. Kaplan met us here to assess you and we've been here ever since. The FBI thinks you were wounded, but recovering. We were out of food and I had to force Dembe to go out and get more supplies… I need to call him, let him know you're awake!"
"Dembe can wait a moment, I need to hold you."
Her arms wrapping around him just as tightly she whispered "Now I am whole again."