Liz woke in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, feeling like she was drowning all over again, her eyes wide with terror.

Samar shot up in bed next to her, immediately conscious enough to tell what was happening. Nightmares. "Liz, it was a dream. Breathe. You can breathe."

Liz's frantic eyes found Samar's in the dark room and she heard the words coming from Samar's mouth, the firm voice telling her to breathe. Liz calmed down once she was able to focus on Samar, knowing that she wouldn't let anything happen to her. She did as she was told, breathing more regularly as she gradually came back to reality.

And suddenly, to her own horror, Liz was sobbing. Huge, heaving sobs, accompanied by sounds she'd never heard herself make before, as if her soul itself were crying out for help. Her eyes were wide, but she clenched them shut as what seemed like oceans poured from them, clutching the sheets tightly in her fists.

Samar's mouth opened in pained shock at seeing Liz fall apart like this. She immediately lay down behind her again, pulling her backward, wrapping her arms around her tightly, holding her to her chest. "Shhhhhh. You're alright, Liz. I've got you. You're safe." Liz unclenched her fists, dropping the sheets. She brought her hands up to Samar's arms that were snugly around her midsection, grasping them as if Samar were her life raft.

Tears stung Samar's eyes. Her heart was breaking for Liz. She felt so helpless as she listened to the painful noises coming from the woman in her arms. She curled her legs up until her knees met the back of Liz's. She needed to make sure that Liz knew she was there, protecting all of her. Samar nuzzled her face into Liz's neck, where strands of hair were sticking to the salty tracks left behind from her tears. She pressed gentle kisses below Liz's ear as she whispered over and over again, "You're okay. You're okay. Everything will be okay."

Liz loosened her hold on Samar's arms and turned over in her embrace to face her, burying her face in Samar's chest. She knew she would be embarrassed about this when her sob-fest was over, but in the moment she simply didn't care. "Thank you," Liz mumbled through her sobs.

Samar kissed the top of her head, letting her lips linger there, pulling Liz even closer. "Of course. Always," she whispered softly.

Samar stayed awake until long after Liz's sobs subsided, long after Liz had drifted off to sleep in her arms. But eventually, she, too, gave in to the exhaustion once again.

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Samar woke up first, unable to sleep in despite her physical exhaustion. Her neck ached with every swallow and every breath. She and Liz were no longer tangled together, but they were still close, Samar's arm draped across Liz's chest. She tried to turn her head slightly and hissed in pain.

Liz stirred beside her, her eyes fluttering open, brow furrowed in concern. "You okay?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with sleep.

"My neck is incredibly sore," Samar answered, her voice rough, as if the hours of non-use had caused her injured throat to shut down to its essential functions. She brought her free hand up to her neck, stroking it softly even though she knew it wouldn't help ease the pain. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Liz shook her head. "No, it's okay." She lifted her hand to brush her fingers through Samar's hair, rolling onto her side to face her. Suddenly she remembered how vulnerable she'd been in the middle of the night and her cheeks grew warm. She looked down at the sheets, avoiding Samar's gaze, dropping her hand back down to the mattress.

Samar could tell what Liz was thinking. "We're vulnerable together, remember?" she gently reminded her.

Liz met her eyes, giving her a sad smile. "Yeah, well… Sorry I fell apart on you."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," Samar replied straightforwardly, leaning in to press her lips gently to Liz's.

Liz gave her a grateful smile, then rolled out of bed, walking to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water. She carried it back to the bed and held it out to Samar. "Here, see if this soothes your throat a little."

Samar smiled in thanks, taking the glass from Liz's outstretched hand. She took a drink and winced as it went down, a pained noise escaping her throat. "It's so much worse than last night."

Liz frowned, consumed with worry. "I know you've been checked out, but it would make me feel better if you went back to the doctor just to make sure everything's okay," she told Samar, stroking her curls away from her forehead.

Samar didn't want to admit her own fear in words, so she looked at Liz and nodded her agreement.

"Okay, I should be good to drive now. So I'll get dressed, and then we can stop by your place for some clean clothes, and then we'll head to the doctor," Liz planned, while grabbing various articles of clothing from her drawers and closet.

"You don't need to go with me, Liz. You should rest."

Liz turned back to Samar, rolling her eyes. "I'm going, Samar. I'm fine. What I need is to make sure you're fine."

Samar stood up. "If you insist," she replied, her mouth quirking up on one end.

"I do insist," Liz repeated firmly, before disappearing into the bathroom to change.

Twenty minutes later, they were in the car, Liz behind the wheel, and Samar giving directions to her apartment. Thirty minutes after that, they had reached the nearest urgent care.

Liz was anxious as she sat in the waiting room. But Samar was back sooner than she had expected, walking toward her with a smile on her face. "Everything is completely normal, Liz. I'll be fine. It won't be as sore in a few days."

Liz stood up and Samar stopped in front of her. Liz ran her hand down Samar's arm, smiling. "Good."

"They took a look at my leg too, to be thorough. No infections. I'm in recovery." Samar gazed at Liz, feeling her chest swell with the knowledge that Liz cared this much.

Liz grinned, bouncing up on the balls of her feet to kiss Samar. "Do you want me to take you home?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," Samar shook her head. "I want to spend the day with you."

"Okay," Liz replied with a smile. "What would you like to do?"

Samar pursed her lips in thought. "Well, it hurts to swallow, but I'm hungry." She checked the time on her cell phone. "Breakfast?" she suggested.

Liz chuckled. "Brushing our teeth side by side, a doctor's appointment, and now breakfast? We really are a married couple." She could feel heat creeping across her cheeks as she spoke.

Samar leaned her head back and laughed before meeting Liz's eyes again. "For such a tough badass, you are rather adorable. Why are you blushing?" Samar asked, brushing her thumb across Liz's cheekbone.

"Because it's only been, oh I don't know, approximately twelve hours since you kissed me and told me you loved me," Liz smirked, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

Samar shrugged, smirking back at Liz, reaching down to twine their fingers together. "Twelve hours, twelve months, what's the difference?" she joked. Her expression became serious again, but her eyes remained soft. "I meant what I said, Liz. I'm serious. I want to see where this goes."

Liz squeezed her hand. "I know. I do too," she murmured quietly.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page then. Now let's go eat," Samar replied, pulling Liz toward the exit.

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Liz drove them downtown to Dupont Circle. "This is the best breakfast spot in DC, trust me," she said excitedly, looking over at Samar as she pulled up to the curb, finding a parking spot a few blocks away on N Street. She put the car in park and killed the engine, quickly climbing out. A smile spread across her face as she rounded the front of the car, joining Samar on the sidewalk and reaching for her waiting hand.

Samar couldn't stop smiling. She was holding Liz's hand, strolling down beautiful historic city streets. It was cold, but the lingering snow had melted and the sun was shining. She could almost forget the events of the previous day. After a block of walking in comfortable silence, hands clasped together, Samar spoke. "So, Tabard Inn?"

"Mhmm. It's been around for almost a hundred years. It's this quaint old rowhouse, filled with history. And the food is delicious. You'll love it," she said, grinning excitedly like a little kid.

Samar's heart swelled and she stopped walking, tugging Liz toward her. "Not as much as I love you," she whispered into Liz's ear, circling one arm around Liz's waist.

Liz laughed into Samar's shoulder. "I never would have guessed in a million years that you're such a romantic cheeseball under that fierce Mossad exterior." She looked up, noticing a slight blush on Samar's cheeks. "I like it, don't worry," Liz assured her, pressing her lips to Samar's softly, lingering for a moment. "You're my romantic cheeseball," she whispered before stepping back and tugging Samar along down the sidewalk. "Now come on, I'm hungry."

Once they were settled in at a table tucked away in a corner of the rustic dining room, Liz looked at Samar and smiled, placing her hand palm up on the table. They were by no means alone, but late breakfast on a Thursday wasn't as crowded as a weekend brunch would have been. Samar returned Liz's smile and brushed her fingers against Liz's palm, looking down at their hands as she twined their fingers together.

But then she noticed the scar on Liz's wrist, the one she'd first noticed when Liz had lifted up her arms while under Dr. Orchard's hypnosis. Samar moved her fingers over to brush across it, her brow furrowed slightly. It was rough to the touch, Liz's porcelain skin marred by white, nearly translucent ridges.

Liz stiffened, tangling her fingers tightly with Samar's trying to hide the scar from view. She looked anxiously at Samar, her stomach clenching. "I, uh- I didn't really know anything about it until yesterday, with Braxton."

"You don't have to talk about it," Samar assured her, noticing the pained expression on Liz's face.

Liz shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Vulnerable together." She shot Samar a small, sad smile, before reaching over with her free hand to rub the scar.

She met Samar's eyes again before speaking softly. "There was a fire when I was a little girl, when I was four years old. My parents were there, but I have no memory of my biological parents. Reddington was there that night too – that's how we're connected. There were these…flashes of fire and smoke, the screams of me as a little girl. I could feel the fear as if it happened yesterday. I'm still trying to work the pieces together in my mind. All I know for sure is that that fire is what gave me this." She looked back down at her scar, rubbing it with her thumb roughly, before continuing. "I feel so disconnected from all of it. I don't know or understand anything about my own life, Samar. Who even am I? Elizabeth Keen is just an identity created out of lies and secrets." Liz broke off abruptly, her mouth a tight line, wobbling with emotion, as her eyes shone with unshed tears.

Samar frowned, tightening her hold on Liz's hand. "Elizabeth Keen is whoever you want her to be. You are Elizabeth Keen if you want to be Elizabeth Keen. You're you at the core, no matter what. A strong, brave, independent woman who refuses to take shit from anyone. Your past and your name don't define you, your heart does. And your heart, Liz? It's definitely one of the good ones."

Liz didn't know what to say, but she didn't think words were fully necessary. Her brow had furrowed in disbelief at Samar's sweet words, and now she smiled, stroking her thumb across the tops of Samar's fingers.

"Would you like to hear a story about my past so we're even on the vulnerability scale?" Samar asked quietly with a sad smile.

Liz grinned. "Well, Samar, you are a very mysterious woman, so yes, I would love some insight," she chuckled. She noticed a look of anxious hesitation pass across Samar's face, and quickly continued. "But you don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready. Trust me, I get it."

Samar looked down and swallowed before meeting Liz's gaze with a small smile. "I want to tell you. I'm just… not used to talking about myself, especially these parts of myself."

Liz smiled at her reassuringly, looking her deep in the eyes.

Samar took a shaky breath and began her story, focusing on Liz's bright blue eyes for strength. "I've only truly been in love once before in my life, and it was brief, hardly even a relationship. I was twenty-four years old, and still living in Iran. I met this woman, this artist… Leila. She was a few years older, and she spent her days on the streets of Tehran, painting the scenes and the people around her. And she was quite successful. She sold much of her work to upscale galleries where wealthy and sophisticated Iranians became aware of her talent."

Samar's eyes drifted to a painting on the wall behind Liz as she pulled up old memories filled with old pain. "She had become… somewhat fascinated with me before we ever spoke, as I learned later. I had passed her on the street multiple times, and noticed her talent, her beauty. But one day she stopped me and asked if she could paint me. I was so drawn to her, and I didn't understand why. I had dated men in the past and never really clicked with anyone, but Leila…" Samar trailed off, looking into the distance past Liz, her eyes glazed over, lost in her memories. "She turned everything upside down. In a terrifyingly magnificent way. I went to her apartment four evenings in a row to sit for the painting, and by the fourth we were in bed together."

Samar looked down at the table, fixing her eyes on the natural whorls etched into the wood. "We were completely swept up in each other." Samar met Liz's eyes again, somewhat reluctantly. Liz squeezed her hand but didn't speak, encouraging her to go on.

"Relationships with someone of the same sex are illegal in Iran, and while the punishment is usually less harsh for women than for men, what we were doing was incredibly dangerous," Samar explained. "Since I was unmarried, my father and mother were still helping to support me financially. When they learned of my relationship with Leila, they disowned me. They wanted nothing to do with me any longer." Samar saw Liz's eyes fill with something resembling compassion, her brows furrowing in sympathy.

"Leila offered to help, but I was too proud. I stayed with her for a week while attempting to figure out my course of action, but the constant contact between us…the passion was too much. One of her neighbors deduced what was going on between us and threatened to tell the authorities. I didn't care, I just wanted to be with her. I asked her to leave with me, and suggested that we go somewhere more open and accepting, together. But instead, she asked me to leave, alone. She was too afraid of the consequences, and of uprooting her life of stability." Samar wanted to look away, but she kept her eyes locked with Liz's, even though she knew that meant Liz would be able to see all the remnants of her past, the aching loneliness she'd carried ever since, the tears that were now stinging her eyes.

Samar's voice hardened when she continued, her tone holding notes of finality and pain. "I wasn't worth it." She cleared the lump of emotion from her throat. "I had nothing to keep me in Iran, so I left." She paused, brushing her fingers against Liz's. When she spoke again, her voice had softened. It was quieter, too – almost timid. "That's when I built those impenetrable steel walls I told you about. The walls that haven't been breached until now."

Liz smiled softly, a slight blush heating her cheeks. She focused her gaze, her blue eyes piercing Samar's brown ones, making sure Samar could see her sincerity. "You're worth it. If Leila couldn't see that, it's her loss. And for what it's worth? I would've left with you in a heartbeat." Liz shook her head, overwhelmed with anger at Samar's parents, at Leila, at everyone who'd ever made this strong woman feel unworthy. "You are more than worth it, Samar."

Samar's eyes were glistening with tears, but she tried to brush her emotions off with humor. "Well, I'm glad you think so, because I'd rather not get my heart broken again."

Liz huffed a laugh, but she could see the fear and worry hiding just below the surface of Samar's strained voice and wet eyes. She smiled. "I have no intention of breaking your heart. I think I'd like to be the one to try and heal it."

Samar's expression shifted briefly, surprised not only at Liz's words, but also that Liz could tell she was still so broken from all the people who'd hurt her and abandoned her in the past. A tear escaped, slowly rolling along the curve of her slim nose. She took a calming breath, but she was so touched by Liz's words that it caught in her throat. She lifted Liz's hand, closed her eyes, and brushed her lips softly across Liz's fingers. "Now who's the romantic cheeseball?" she asked shakily, opening her eyes again to look at Liz.

Liz chuckled, shrugging. "I'll happily accept that title. I honestly thought what happened with Tom killed the romantic cheeseball inside of me. You're lucky I was wrong."

"I'll say," Samar murmured, lowering their joined hands back to the table.

Liz took a deep breath, preparing to speak the truth of her feelings out loud for the first time. "I'm falling in love with you, Samar. I have been for a while, I just didn't want to admit it. It scares the hell out of me, but it's true," Liz promised. Samar's answering smile seemed to brighten the entire room. "So how about we forget all the drama, focus on being romantic cheeseballs, and enjoy our first date?" Liz suggested, grinning.

Samar laughed. "It is our first date. We'd better make it special."

"Anything is special with you," Liz replied simply and sincerely. She could see the happiness in Samar's eyes, but she continued, pulling her hand from Samar's to grab a menu and open it. "Now, let's order food. How's your throat? What will be easiest for you to eat?" She busied herself scanning over the menu, imagining what the various meals would feel like going down if she were in Samar's position.

Samar rested her chin in her hands, watching Liz's eyes moving back and forth across the menu. She couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with love, so lost in looking at Liz that she forgot she'd asked her questions.

"Samar? What do you think?" Liz asked, still looking at the menu. Her voice brought Samar slightly out of her reverie, but Liz looked up and noticed her staring. "What? What is it? Are you okay?"

Samar chuckled. "I'm fine, just enjoying the view. You're unbelievably sweet, that's all."

Liz's mouth quirked up, her dimples showing. She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "How's your throat?" she repeated, her smile coloring her voice.

"I took a low dosage of medication at the doctor's office, so it feels a bit better at the moment. Nothing I can't deal with, especially if the food is as delicious as you claim."

"Trust me, it's amazing," Liz replied, handing the second menu to Samar. "Get anything you want, my treat."

Samar grinned. "Only if you let me pay for our second date."

Liz smirked back at her. "Deal. Now hurry up and decide what you want. I'm starving."