#2

The second time Elizabeth Keen showed up at his door, it was more for his benefit than for hers. (Or, that was what she told herself, even though she was sure he'd be fine, because he was as stubborn as they come). If she was being honest with herself, she was there because she needed to know he was okay after the events of the day (or the week, or the month. Honestly she wasn't sure. She hadn't asked for specifics and he hadn't offered.)

"What are you doing here?"

His first words are not encouraging.

"I, uh-" Liz held up a 6 pack of his favorite beer. "I'm replacing the beer I shamelessly drank while crying on your couch last month?"

Damn, why did that sound like a question? She hadn't meant for that to sound like a question. She was an independent woman, for fuck's sake. She didn't need an excuse to check on her (drug addicted, beat up, strung out) partner.

"I appreciate the beer. But that's not why you're here."

Know it all. Liz was pissed, both at Ressler for reading her so well and at herself, for being so transparent.

She sighed. "Can we have this conversation inside?"

Ressler grunted in response, but moved his body (god, the man looked like he was made of rock) out of her way.

"Keen, I'm fine."

"I didn't ask."

He stared at her, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She stared right back, setting the beer down so she didn't drop it. (Because honestly, she occasionally found herself weak in the knees when he stared at her like that, all dark and determined.)

"Could you just go ahead and ask, so I can drink the beer you so graciously replaced and then pass out?"

"What exactly is it you think I want to ask?"

Ressler snorted, waving his hands noncommittally in the air around him.

"Obviously you'd like to poke your nose where it doesn't belong and be the hero, saving me from myself and my drugs. Well guess what, Liz, I don't need your help. I'm fine. I never meant for you to find out. You did your duty - go home."

Liz pursed her lips so tightly they went numb. She stared hard at Ressler, remembering him just a few hours before breaking down in front of her. And now he had closed himself off again, protecting himself against any possible emotion that could worm it's way inside the carefully constructed walls he had hastily shoved up after losing Audrey.

"Ressler," she began, and really, she couldn't be held responsible for what she said at this point. She was exhausted, had been worried about her partner for a solid 14 hours (about 8 of them worried for his life as he was hunted by a seriously sick man in Bumfuck, Alaska, and the remaining 6 worried for his life because instead of asking for help or comfort from a friend, he had gotten himself hooked on drugs) and pissed off because he was basically being a big baby. "You are not a project. I am not trying to be a hero! I -"

"You what, Liz? Because its been a long ass day and if you don't mind I'd like to get drunk and forget it."

"I'm worried," she finished quietly, failing to hold onto her anger as the truth seeped out of her. She was saddened by the anger Ressler so clearly harbored. He was so pissed - at the world, the mission, the job, even HER, which she tried not to take personally but did. (It was hard not to).

Ressler scoffed, but as he spoke she could hear his words cracking, and she knew his harshness came from the fact that he wanted her out of his house before he broke down, as he was obviously so close to doing. His eyes misted over as he took his anger out on his partner.

"Please, just leave me the fuck alone. I don't need you to worry, I don't WANT you to worry. No one asked you to! I don't need you, I don't need -"

His words were cut off as Liz (in a very spur of the moment move that she hoped didn't ruin everything between them, the trust that had taken months to build, the friendship that she wasn't even sure was friendship) slowly approached Ressler and wrapped her arms around him.

The dam broke, and Ressler cried like he hadn't allowed himself to since Audrey died. He sank to his knees, and Liz followed him, holding him like he had done for her when the Stew Maker had traumatized her.

"What's wrong with me? I fuck everything up," he moaned, his fingers finding the fabric of her shirt and clasping on for dear life. It was a weird position, Liz mused, both of them on their knees, her arms around them and his fingers knotted in the back of her shirt, holding her to him.

She couldn't have moved even if she wanted to.

"Shhh..." she soothed him. "There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You're the strongest person I know. We work a shitty job, where shitty things happen. People die, people get hurt, and at the end of the day we're left wondering if it's even worth it. "

"It is, " Ressler croaked, clearing his throat. He sounded like he was finished crying, but his grip hadn't loosened on her shirt. She was afraid for the moment it did, because she didn't want the situation to grow awkward as situations did when one was finished breaking down in front of their partners. "It has to be worth it, or how do we keep going on every day? Knowing everyone we love is dead because of the job? That we have no life - no one to come home to, no kids, nothing - because of the job? If it's not enough, Liz, then..."

He left the rest unspoken, but the intention, the silent words, made her heart ache (both for him and for herself because she, too, had lost everything and everyone she loved because of the damn job).

Then I have no reason to go on.

"She was pregnant. Audrey."

Liz isn't sure what shocked her more - Ressler's sudden movements that cause them both to be sitting on the floor, right in front of each other, breathing each other's air, or his words.

"I chased Reddington for 5 years. I lost Audrey to my obsession. I thought then that I had no reason to go on, nothing to live for but the job. Then the bastard turns himself in, to you, and I don't know how I made it through those first few days before we had the Blacklist and another reason to go out there everyday."

He paused, and Liz held her breath, afraid to say anything for fear he'd stop talking. Finally he continued, and Liz found herself nervously playing with the fingers on his hand as he spoke. He noticed, smiled a little, but didn't try to stop her.

"Reddington is a first class asshole. But he brought Audrey back in my life, and suddenly my world had meaning again. And then... " He swallowed thickly. "And after, I found this pregnancy test. And it was positive, and I was going to be a dad, and-"

He breaks off, because he can't speak any more. He literally can't force the words out, he's not even sure why he's telling her. But he is and she's listening and her heart breaks for him, because he's so strong a person. He's a confident and protective and beautiful man, and he's irreparably broken because a baby, his baby, died before he could even met them, and it's too much for anyone to wrap their mind around, even someone as strong as Ressler.

But the look on his face as he meets Liz's eyes again. Liz is crying, too, before she can even comprehend why. But the sight of his eyes! Electric blue with tears, staring at her with such vulnerability through thick lashes - it's more than she can bare.

"Oh my god, Ressler," she whispers, and there's nothing more to say. She doesn't miss how he moves his hand away from hers, but she only misses the contact for a second before his warm skin returns, entwining his fingers with hers before he drops his head back against the wall.

"I'll survive. I always find a way."

Liz shuffles closer to him, sitting next to him, not mentioning the light contact of their hands but relishing in it.

"You shouldn't have to. If anyone deserves -"

She can't finish her sentence, but she doesn't need to. He understands.

"That's why," he says, some five minutes later, after his tears have dried and he can pretend like he never broke down in front of her. "The drugs. I know everyone always has an excuse, and I know it's not good enough - I have to stop, for me, for you - I have to keep you safe - but that's why. I just didn't want to feel anything for a while."

She nods. She doesn't say she understands, because she doesn't, her pain is very different even if it is just as strong. But she nods because she understands he has admitted he needs help and that he is hurting and can't brush it off.

There's a lot of silence, and then,

"You can have my room again. I still want to get blackout drunk, but I don't want to do it alone anymore. You're here, it's late, we both have monumentally horrible lives, and we should watch football and get drunk and not feel for a while."

Liz nods. "What else do you have besides beer?"

Ressler grins, and though Liz recognizes that being drunk is not a healthy solution to your problems, she is happy to see her partner focusing on something less meaningful and less painful.

"I'm glad you ask."

— ~ — ~ —

She stays in his room again, and tries not to think about how well she sleep in this unfamiliar environment, surrounded by the scent of her partners cologne, with the sounds of him shuffling around outside the door in the living room.

It's only the second time it's happened, and she's becoming concerned by how comfortable it feels, how easy it is.

"Goodnight, Liz," she hears from the other toom, and the smile that graces her lips is unconscious.

"Goodnight, Ress."

This will be the last time, she promises herself. For sure the last time.

Good plan.


Aaaaaaaand part 2 is up! I like this one better than part one, and part 3 (and 4 and 5) are even more exciting and angst-filled! :)

Please Review! Let me know how I'm doing with the characters and situations.