Chapter One
He could hear Agnes crying and it stirred him slowly to awareness, though not quite all the way. Instead he felt like he was working his way through the layers of sleep at a much slower pace than usual. He had never been a morning person by nature, preferring to dig a little deeper into a pillow until he was ready for that first cup of coffee. It was a luxury he could finally afford.
"Tom?" Liz grumbled, her voice muffled by her own pillow and he felt her reach out clumsily. "Your turn."
"I know," he answered as he stretched out a little. One good roll and he'd be off the bed and onto his feet. He paused, though, straining to hear. She's gone quiet again, and he wondered if she'd drifted back to sleep. If so, there was no reason to wake her again.
"Babe, you need to go check on her. She's scared."
Tom shifted so he could squint in the darkness and found Liz's gaze on him, her eyes open and fully awake. Her expression was worried and he wondered if maybe she'd had a nightmare she was still trying to shake or something. "It's fine, babe. She went back to sleep. We're safe."
"No we're not. She's scared. Tom-"
All at once he couldn't breathe, like he had been tossed into a freezing cold pool and slipped below the surface. Liz was gone and he couldn't hear Agnes. Instead he could hear muffled shouts, and he was dragged upward.
Tom blinked hard, water in his eyes and there was no doubt that he was awake as he choked against the water he'd breathed in. There was a bucket of ice water in front of him in the dim room he found himself in and an arm went around his throat before he could fight, holding him there. A man stepped into his line of sight, a smirk on his face. "You were having some trouble coming around," he stated, as if nearly drowning him had been a favour.
Memories started to work their way through the panic of not being able to breathe. Slipping Reddington's detail, the plane, and the trip to Cuba. Liz's face and the way it had lit up as soon as he had walked through the door with Agnes. It had been so perfect for such a short time. They were free. They had thought they were free.
The blow landed hard, pulling him from his thoughts as he nearly doubled over from where he was already knelt on his knees. The arm around his neck tightened, holding him upright as the man in front of him reared back and slammed his fist hard into his middle again, stealing whatever breath he had managed to get back.
"What? No clever reply today? No quip to prove we haven't gotten to you yet?" his captor asked, grabbing a handful of Tom's dark hair and yanking him up do that he met his eyes. The man behind him released his hold nearly in unison, allowing the other to hold him upright that way instead. They didn't have names. Idiot One and Idiot Two, maybe, at best. Lead Idiot was the one that had been stupid enough to get close.
Tom reared back and forward, slamming into the Lead Idiot hard. It wasn't that he thought it would buy his freedom, but it would hurt the man. It would make him think twice about getting close again. He smirked at the thought, even as the other two circled to hold him down. He thrashed out, landing a hard blow against one, at least, and he had made it to his feet before a kick to the back of the knee sent it folding beneath him and something slammed hard enough into his head that he saw stars as he went skidding the rest of the way to the floor.
Lead Idiot was picking himself up. "You son of a bitch," he growled, wiping at the blood from his broken nose, and kicked out to where Tom lay on his side, still dazed, and he thought he felt something crack on impact.
He curled on instinct, trying to force himself to focus. This wasn't the first beating he received since being tossed into the room and the aches were starting to pile on each other. They always came in in threes, never giving him too much of a chance to get the upper hand. They seemed to know what he was capable of.
The door opened off to the side and Tom started to look towards it, but received a painful nudge against his cracked ribs for the effort. "No you don't. Don't move an inch. Freddie."
There was movement behind him before he was hauled upward and what felt like zip ties were wrapped around his wrists after they were jerked painfully behind his back. Lead Idiot pulled a flimsy chair over and one of the other two shoved Tom into it. He sat hard and it took all of his self control not to topple out of it immediately. Without warning, the ice water from the bucket that they'd nearly drowned him in earlier was emptied over his head, leaving him wide awake, drenched, shivering, and more miserable than before, if that were possible.
Tom blinked hard against the water dripping down his face and another chair was deposited in front of him. A hand on either shoulder pulled him upright in his own chair and he felt his body protest.
Footsteps sounded from the door, but Tom refused to look around. Instead he remained focused on the chair until the man came into his line of sight. He was tall, white haired, and dressed in a tailored suit. A businessman. His eyes were pale blue, icy both in colour and expression, and his brows were drawn downward as if he were already in a bad mood. Well, at least someone of importance had finally made an appearance.
The man sat across from Tom with the bearing of someone who didn't feel as if he should be bothered with a conversation as trivial as the one they were about to have and the former operative leveled a glare of his own as he began to speak. "You have proven more trouble than you may be worth, Mr Keen. Perhaps I should never have lifted the kill order off of you after all."
Tom snorted. "Hope you're not expecting an apology," he growled, his voice raw.
The icy cold gaze didn't shift. The man didn't even blink for a long moment, but finally he sighed and crossed his legs at the knee, hands folded. "I wonder, at times, if people are predisposed to make poor choices. It seems that there are certain types of people that simply don't understand when to quit until they are beaten into the ground. A physical beating, the loss of a person or people that you hold dear-"
"Where the hell are my wife and daughter?" Tom snapped.
"Safer than you at the moment." He stood slowly, unfolding himself, and Idiots One and Two held Tom down in the chair to avoid any surprises. "I knew a man once that was intent on fighting a losing battle. I warned him against it, but he didn't listen. Foolish, prideful. He lost his child for it and his wife never quite forgave him."
Tom felt the anger boil. "Where are Liz and Agnes?" he bit out.
"Perhaps it does run down the line," the older man mused.
An unsteady breath escaped him and Tom felt his shoulders sag. "What the hell do you want with us? At least tell me that?"
"Nothing with you. Masha and Agnes are all I need. You are simply a means to keep her in line. I would advise you, Mr Keen, not to become more trouble than she is. Otherwise I will simply kill you and find a new approach with her."
Masha. The name hung in the air as the man turned on his heel and stalked towards the exit. He had called Liz Masha. Tom pulled in a breath at the realization that, somehow, Reddington hadn't put a bullet in Alexander Kirk's head.
Elizabeth Keen rocked her daughter in her arms, murmuring softly to her as the little one dozed following her meal. After the initial meeting with Kirk and the declaration of his relationship with her Liz had gone quiet. She had been so certain that her mother had been the one to disrupt her wedding that the idea of Constantine Rostov being alive had struck her silent.
Her father was alive. She hadn't killed him, but she had had no idea where her daughter or Tom were, and that, in the end, had won out in the battle for her focus.
Kirk had delivered Agnes to her as a sign of good faith, as he put it. Her daughter, a room instead of the cell she'd half been expecting, and everything she might have needed, with the exception of answers. As if she needed another man in her life withholding answers from her. As far as she could tell she had been there a week and she was yet to see Tom or any real proof beyond Kirk's word that her husband was alive.
A knock came at the door to the room and Agnes stirred. It was more of an announcement than a request for permission to enter. That was something she had found out very quickly. She would be given more time if she said something, but the locks began to come undone on the outside of the door and she moved to set Agnes down in the crib.
The door opened and she caught sight of two guards outside. They were different than the ones that had been there when lunch had been delivered earlier that day, and as far as she could tell they changed out every four hours or so.
Alexander Kirk - because, really, she has no proof that he was anyone other than that - moved into the room, his expression steely as it always seemed to be, though there might have been an ounce more irritation there at the moment. "Forgive me for not coming by yet today, Masha. I've been detained handling an issue with your husband."
That caught her attention and Liz straightened a little, squaring her shoulders. "What about my husband? What have you done to him?"
Kirk shook his head as he moved past her to the crib and it took everything Liz had not to jump the man as he approached her child. The first time he had moved to touch Agnes she had done just that. She had had her hand on his jacket sleeve and was pulled back with her opposite fist, ready to defend her child if she needed to, when she'd been descended on. She had been hauled off her feet, and while she'd done a fair amount of damage in return, there had been more of them than there were of her. She hadn't seen Agnes for three days, and she had just been delivered back to her that morning with the promise that if she couldn't contain herself, she'd be taken again. The threat of Tom's health loomed unspoken as well, though she couldn't seem to get Kirk to give her any sort of proof of life. In the darkest moments she wondered if Tom were alive at all, and if he were, just what Kirk was doing to him. He must have been the backup way of forcing her to behave.
Liz watched carefully as he bent down, his fingers tracing over Agnes' cheek and she watched him curiously. "He broke one of my men's nose today."
A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips very subtly. Well, at least she knew he was alive. That sounded about right. "He should have known by this point not to get too close."
"You married a very dangerous man, Masha."
"He married a very dangerous woman," she countered and moved past him, scooping Agnes back out of the crib. "Don't touch my daughter."
"Will you attack me again?" Kirk asked, almost sounding amused.
Liz clutched Agnes to her. "I'll protect my family in any way that I have to."
"Masha, I do not want to harm your family."
She bristled at what had to have been a lie and raised her chin to glare at him. "Really? You've given me no reason to trust you on that. You attacked my wedding, tried to kill my friends, nearly got me killed, nearly got my daughter killed, and have kidnapped us to hold us hostage."
Kirk sighed, watching her. "You look a great deal like your mother when you're riled, did you know that? Katarina got a very similar look in her eyes." He paused, studying her. "Have dinner with me tonight. Just the two of us. I'll have someone in to sit with Agnes. Let me prove to you that I mean neither of you any harm."
"No."
"What can I do to convince you?"
"Get rid of the guards," Liz snapped, knowing it would never happen.
"I'm afraid that you can't leave, Masha, and I know you'll try if the guards aren't there. Something else, please."
"Tom," she said, her voice breaking at his name. "You haven't even let me see him. How do I know he's even alive?"
Kirk closed his eyes and she wondered if he was just coming up with a better way to shoot that request down as well. "If I have your husband brought here, you'll have dinner with me this evening," he said quietly, though it wasn't quite a question. It sounded more like he was stating the terms of a deal.
"Yes," she answered, before adding, "alive."
He chuckled at that and nodded. "Very well then. I'll have him brought here."
Liz blinked, surprised. "You will?"
"That's what you say you want, isn't it?"
There had to be a catch. "And, what? Take Agnes?"
"Agnes should be with her mother."
"What makes you think we won't run?"
"You haven't been able to yet, though I do think that your hesitation may stem from the fact that you know your husband is alive. You won't leave without him, and he won't be able to run with you."
He didn't give Liz a chance to ask him what he meant by that as he turned around and left the room. She found herself staring at the closed door for several long moments after, Agnes' fussing the only thing that drew her attention away.
By the time the knock came to signal someone had returned some time later, her nerves were in a knot. She was trying to rock her daughter back to sleep, but Agnes was feeding off the anxiety and had been wailing for a bit. The door opened and Liz felt her breath hitch at the sight of Tom being dragged between two taller men. "Just a second, sweetie," she murmured and set Agnes down in the crib again as they hauled her husband in and dropped him in the middle of the floor. He fell hard, lying there unmoving, and Liz saw one of the men that had brought him in was sporting two black eyes and a bandage across his broken nose.
"Get out," she growled at them to lowly that one of them flinched at her tone. "Now."
"Mr Kirk wanted us to remind you that dinner will be in an hour."
"Fine." Liz waited until they were gone to sink down next to Tom on the floor, her hand trembling as she reached to push back dark hair. His clothes were damp, as if they'd thrown water on him some hours before and he hadn't quite dried out yet, and he was shivering as he slowly started to come around. "Hey," she said softly. "Tom, it's me. You're okay. You're going to be okay. Just open your eyes."
A soft moan escaped him and she saw him pull in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering open sluggishly as he released it. They were unfocused at first, staring ahead at the carpet beneath him and along the length of the floor, but slowly he tilted his head and looked up at her, her name escaping him. She leaned down, pressing a careful kiss to his forehead. "Come on, there's a bed just a few feet away. Can you get up?"
"Yeah," he managed, but she wasn't quite sure she believed him. Slowly he started to move, putting his hands under him and wincing as he pushed himself up. She reached out, balancing him and letting him lean on her if he needed to. Once he got halfway up she wrapped an arm around his middle and he put his around her shoulders. They'd done this before. They could do it again, and this time it was a much shorter distance.
Tom fell back onto the bed, giving a sharp cry as he bounced a little and Liz helped ease his legs up. He was barefoot, his sandals that he'd slipped on to go get the diapers tossed away at some point, and his clothes were torn and covered in dirt and blood, some of it fresh, some darkened after a while. He stared up at the ceiling, gaze unfocused again as he seemed to put his attention towards breathing, one arm wrapped around his ribcage and she winced at the thought of the bruising that she'd see if she looked under what had once been a white, linen shirt. She took a seat next to him as gently as possible, reaching out to smooth back dark hair. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" he rasped, blinking hard once and his eyes shifted to look at her as they opened. "I'm the idiot that didn't…"
"This is not your fault."
"You were safe 'till I came," he murmured, and she heard the regret in his voice.
Liz tried for a reassuring smile. "I was alone until you came and brought Agnes with you. We're together now at least. Where's that positivity of yours?"
The thin tease pulled a rough chuckle from him and he reached a clumsy hand up to her. She caught it and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. His gaze was still a little blurry, but it was at least directed at her steadily now. "Love you."
"Love you too."
"You okay? He hasn't… hasn't hurt you or Agnes, has he?"
"No, we're okay."
He nodded and shifted, grimacing as he did, but before Liz could stop him he was pulling himself up to sit. There was no stopping him when he got like this, so she remained where she was to help if she needed to. Once he was up, his gaze drifted around the room. "Not a bad set up for a cell. They didn't even give me a mattress to sleep on."
Liz frowned. "He's…. Kirk says he's my father. Constantine Rostov."
Her husband was looking at her now. Starring might have been more accurate. "I thought… you shot and killed your dad when you were a kid," he said hesitantly.
"I remember the gun going off, the man dropping, but…"
"But you were just a kid." Tom reached forward and touched her hand, a quiet support offered and Liz let him for just a moment. She had been away from her family too much lately.
"You okay? I'm going to bring Agnes over, but I won't be able to catch you if you go toppling off the bed."
He snorted a short chuckle at that. "Lizzie, if I start going over, let me. If you try to catch me I might take us both to the floor."
She stood from her spot and started for the cradle to where their daughter had drifted to sleep after the commotion. It was amazing how well she had taken everything, that curious gaze constantly watching. Now Liz scooped her up and she stirred, burrowing down a little in her mother's arms. Tom's entire expression lit as she brought their little one over and he reached a trembling hand forward, fingers ghosting across the top of her head and her thin hair. "Hey, baby girl," he whispered. "I've missed you so much."
Her blue eyes blinked slowly open at the sound of his voice and Agnes seemed to recognize him as she stirred.
"I'm just glad you're both safe," Tom said quietly and Liz offered a thin smile.
"For now. I'm… I may find out more about what's coming tonight. I'm supposed to have dinner with Kirk. This is the only part of the building besides the holding area that I've been able to see." Her voice dropped into nearly a whisper. "Two guards outside at all times. They do rotations. There's a woman that comes in. She introduced herself as Angela. She seems to be Kirk's assistant or something. Always asking if there's something she can do to make my stay more comfortable." She snorted, rolling her eyes a little. "Letting us go doesn't seem to be an option. This - letting me see you, bringing you here - is the first time Kirk has given me something to get something."
"What's he taken?" Tom asked, an undercurrent of anger in his voice. He wasn't naive. He knew the dangers they were facing.
"You. And Agnes. For three days."
"We're going to get out of here," he promised.
"He made sure you weren't going anywhere very fast," Liz murmured, gaze drifting over the marks she could see. There were plenty hidden.
"Hey. I'm okay. I'll be fine. Promise."
"Yeah, you lie a lot," she murmured, the tease sounding hollow even to her own ears.
He cracked a smile for her anyway. "Not to you. I learned that lesson."
"Smart man." She leaned forward, careful of the baby still cradled in her arms, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I'm done letting other people save me, Tom. You and me, we're getting out of here. Together."
Her husband nodded slowly. "Not sure I've ever seen something stop you once you have your mind set in it," he murmured, exhaustion creeping into his voice. No, Liz thought reluctantly, they weren't going anywhere right away. Kirk had made sure of that. If it were just Tom or just Agnes, maybe, but not with both of them. Not with Tom hurt like he was. Maybe if she played her cards just right Kirk would give him a chance to recover some. She could take the time to earn his trust and get a better lay of the facility.
"I'm sorry, Lizzie."
Tom's soft apology pulled her from her thoughts and she looked at where he was finally giving in and settling back before he toppled where he sat. "I told you this isn't your fault."
"Not that. It's just… I know how much you've always wanted to know your biological family."
Liz swallowed hard. She couldn't think about that right then. She didn't want to. "I'm going to put Agnes back down for a nap and maybe you and I can get some rest before I have to go?"
He nodded, not pushing her on it. She moved numbly to settle Agnes back down, bending to kiss her as she did. For now, they were safe. Well, as safe as they could be.
Tom was half asleep by the time she got back around to the bed. He was shivering, his clothes damp, but she didn't have anything for him there. So instead she reached for a blanket and pulled it around him, causing him to stir and grimace. He shifted so that he was facing her more and she inched closer to him so that their noses were almost touching. "You and Agnes are my family," she whispered and she heard him loose a breath.
"And you're mine. We've got this."
It helped to hear the encouragement. It helped to have him near. She would get them out of this somehow. She had to. She'd come too far to lose them now.
TBC
Notes: Well here we go on a new story! I've promised myself to keep this much shorter, a bit less twisty, but we'll see how that goes. I do not plan for it to be another 60+ chapter story. Hopefully it'll wrap up nicely before the end of hiatus, but help get us through. Let me know what you guys think!
Next time - Liz has dinner with Kirk, the Keens take a few minutes to discuss everything that has happened, and the task force makes progress in finding their lost teammate.