Ressler was still sitting on the floor, having ignored two nurses who told him he couldn't stay there. Only one had asked if he was okay, to which he'd just stared at her in response. She didn't ask again. A cleanup crew arrived and efficiently mopped Liz's blood from the floor and Ressler hated them for their cavalier attitude. It was just something to be cleaned up to them. Something mundane in their evening at work.

Cooper, Aram and Samar were outside the observation room, as if guarding Tom, or standing vigil over him. Aram's arm was around Samar's waist. And understanding he needed some space, they had not joined Ressler yet, leaving him to his own thoughts for now. Ressler's phone rang, sounding loud and jarring in the silent hallway, in stark contrast to the drama that had taken place when they'd arrived 30 minutes ago. Liz had been in the OR almost 20 minutes now. The caller ID showed "Unknown Caller" but Ressler knew who it was even before he answered.

"Donald," Reddington said on the end of the line, then paused.

Ressler saved him the pain of asking. "She's still alive. Barely." He sighed, leaned his head forward and continued. "She's in the OR. They're working on her brain…" He heard Reddington's intake of air in his ear.

"And Tom?"

Ressler looked to his right, to the dimly lit end of the hallway where his colleagues clustered. "He didn't make it." And he'd barely said the words when he heard the line go dead as Red hung up. Footsteps approached as he returned his phone to his pocket. Cooper had left Aram and Samar and was heading his way.

"Reddington, I take it?" Cooper asked gently.

"Yeah," Ressler answered, gathering his legs under him and standing up beside his boss.

"I'll go talk to him, father to father," Cooper said, "assuming he is still parked outside," he added, then patted Ressler's shoulder and headed toward the exit. Ressler stood alone, shoving his hands in his pockets as a man with a clipboard and paperwork stopped Cooper in the hallway, speaking in hushed tones. Cooper answered, "He has a mother, but she's incarcerated. I may be able to get in touch with his father. I will certainly let you know if I can get more information on next of kin for you."

As Cooper left, the man with the clipboard approached, nodded to Ressler then headed toward the observation room. Aram and Samar moved aside to let him pass, then as the man made a few notes on his all-important clipboard, they both walked to where Ressler was standing.

"You okay?" Samar asked, coming up beside him.

He exhaled heavily and again looked at the double doors to the OR. "I just need her to be okay," he said, evading her question. Aram looked like he wanted to hug him. Ressler stepped back out of arm's reach.

As the registrar came back up to them, leaving Tom's body alone in the now dark room, he slowed. "There is a surgical waiting room on the 1st floor. You can wait there and the surgeon will come and update you once…" he looked at his clip board, "once Mrs. Keen is out of surgery. I'll make a note that you're waiting for updates."

Mrs. Keen. Ressler hadn't even thought of Liz in that regard in the last two weeks. It sounded foreign, as if the name did not belong to her. She's a widow. It hit him all of a sudden and he turned away, blinking rapidly.

At their hesitation, the registrar added, "You'll get word quicker up there. That's the first place they call with updates."

"Thank you," Samar told him and he left, continuing down the corridor with whatever information he'd needed to obtain.

Aram looked to Ressler for confirmation. "Should we, uh, go wait up there?"

Ressler waited a moment more, looked to the doors to the OR, then nodded. They turned to walk down the hallway they'd come in and found the elevators. As they hit the button for the first floor, Cooper rejoined them. "Any word?" he asked, and they shook their heads as they ascended. Finding the main waiting area, they settled into a small alcove off to one side with three couches, reading material on a small coffee table in the center, and a muted TV in one corner. Aram and Samar sat together. Ressler leaned against the wall, too edgy to sit, while Cooper took one of the other couches.

Small talk ensued among them, but Ressler wasn't listening. He'd resisted the urge to look up brain injuries on his phone, telling himself not to do that to himself. But now he did so. And wished he hadn't. None of it sounded good. In fact, most of it sounded downright terrible. Problems with mobility and motor functions, speech and visual problems, personality changes, as well as coma or death, which seemed to be listed everywhere he looked. He shut off his phone, unable to get the image of the blood pouring from her head out of his mind. Just like Hitchin, as she died.

After a few minutes, Aram was squirming at the silence. "Um, I could go find us some coffee, maybe?"

Cooper smiled. "That would be great, Aram, thank you."

As Aram and Samar left together in search of 4 cups of coffee, Cooper looked to Ressler.

"I found our mutual friend. He was still parked outside waiting. He's hanging in there."

Ressler nodded, and had the urge to go down himself and talk to Reddington. He'd been there with Liz while all Ressler had seen was a mad scramble of flashing lights through city streets, before she'd been strapped to a gurney and whisked away. But he then conceded that part of him wasn't ready to hear it. Nor would Red be willing to share that just yet. If ever. Not with Liz's fate this uncertain. He nodded imperceptibly. He understood Reddington. They were both hurting. Both terrified for her. Both loved her.

"How about you?" Cooper asked quietly. "You hanging in there?"

Perhaps Cooper saw the same look in Ressler's eyes that he himself had seen in Red's. That barely suppressed dread and panic that threatened to erupt at any moment. He hesitated, then looked to his boss. "So far."

So far. Because if things got worse. If Liz was the one with a sheet draped over her lifeless form, he couldn't make any promises on that. Through his constricted chest, he took a deep breath, trying not to recall his life right after he'd seen Liz dead in the van with Reddington at her side the year before. He could not handle that twice.

Cooper looked away as Aram and Samar returned, each carrying two cups of coffee. Samar placed them on the small table, then fished sugar and creamer packets and coffee stirrers out of her pocket. "Sorry, can't vouch for the quality, but it's hot," she said, doctoring her own coffee and settling back on the couch. Aram hesitated, got another coffee ready and handed it to Ressler.

Ressler took the cup from him. "Thanks." He wasn't sure he could stomach the coffee, but the warmth seeping through the small foam cup in his hand felt good against his clenched muscles. But not for long. Images of Liz on a table with her skull open and doctors poking around her bleeding brain kept coming to the fore. How much longer was she going to be in there? Was she even still alive?

After a few sips of coffee, Ressler placed his half drank coffee back on the small table. "I gotta stretch my legs," he said, and not waiting for an answer, he walked from the small room. The main waiting area was empty save for a man and woman in one corner, each engrossed in their cell phones. The city lights shone to his left as he approached the window, and leaning against the wall, he gazed out into the night.

Unsure of how long he'd been standing there watching the city below him, finding some solace in the darkness, a phone rang on the reception table nearby. He didn't answer it, but the man from the other side of the room did. He then placed the phone on the desk.

"It's for the family of Mrs. Keen," he said, looking straight at Ressler.

The family. The words melted through his own brain. They were family. Cooper, Samar and Aram had obviously heard the guy too as they were approaching as Ressler picked up the phone.

"Hello," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

The voice came on the other end as he gripped the phone, his knuckles whitening. "This is Nurse Brenda in the OR. Dr. Harris wanted to let your party know that Mrs. Keen has been very unstable, but the surgery is progressing. They've had to stop twice to resuscitate her and do CPR, but are still working on the brain bleed." Ressler's eyes flashed to the three waiting expectantly as he listened. "It looks to be about another hour before she will be done, if there are no more complications," the nurse finished. Her voice was kindly, yet the words were businesslike, making sure she relayed the correct information.

"Thank you," he told her, his face a mask of concern, then replaced the phone in its cradle.

"Oh, God. She's dead, isn't she…? Aram said, as Samar shushed him.

"No, she's alive. For now," Ressler told them, relaying what the nurse had told him, and forcing himself not to think about the effects of traumatic brain injury he'd been reading up on.

"But she's died twice in the OR already," Samar said, looking at Ressler. He inhaled and looked away. If she crashed again in there and they were unable to bring her back...

"But that's good, right, that she'll be done in an hour?" Aram said, eyes darting to all of them.

"It's very good, Aram," Cooper agreed, looking to Ressler.

Ressler wasn't listening. Liz had already died twice in the OR in the last hour. Died twice! And he had no idea what had brought this about. Who had done this? Why was she in this condition? What the hell had happened that caused Liz to be this close to death and had killed Tom? Reddington would know. He had brought them in. Without a word he turned and strode for the elevator banks. That son of a bitch would know and he was damn well going to find out.

"Agent Ressler?" Aram asked.

"Aram, let him go," Cooper sighed.

###

Ressler was down on the first floor and striding out the doors they'd come in and walked into the underground parking area again. He scanned the cars and then spotted the Ford Galaxie. Dembe had moved from the doors and was parked toward the back in semi darkness. Ressler walked, his hands clenched as he left the Emergency Department. As he approached the car, Reddington was barely visible in the back seat. Number 4 on the FBI's most wanted list was being careful not to be seen, but Ressler saw him. He broke into a jog, fists clenched and eyes burning.

Dembe jumped out of the driver's seat and held his hand up, halting Ressler in his tracks. "Agent Ressler, I understand you are upset. Unless you have news of Elizabeth's condition, I must ask you to leave Raymond alone at this time."

"The hell I will." Ressler moved to the side, staring right into Reddington's eyes. "I need to talk to him, Dembe. Get out of my way."

Dembe's hand was on Ressler's chest, stopping him.

"Get the hell off me." Ressler's voice was even and controlled, but burned with anger.

"It's okay, Dembe. Give us a few minutes."

At Red's instructions, Dembe stepped aside and walked a few feet away, but kept his eyes on Ressler.

Opening the back door, Ressler climbed in and sat across from Reddington in the back seat.

"You have news on Elizabeth," Red said as a statement, not a question, attempting to defuse the look in Ressler's eyes.

"She's still alive, but has died twice in the OR in the last hour. They got her back each time and are still working on her brain bleed," Ressler told him, struggling to maintain his control.

Red shook his head and gazed through the front windscreen. His eyes were tired, drawn and looked far into the distance.

"We could lose her and I don't even know what the hell brought this about!" Ressler scowled, clenching his sweaty palms and glaring at Reddington. "What the hell happened? Who did this to her?"

"Donald, now is not the time. Elizabeth is not out of the woods yet."

"I know that! I was the one who just spoke to the damn nurse. I know she's not out of the woods!"

Red simply looked at him.

"If you know anything!" Ressler said, leaning forward to Red, shouting, "I need to know who did this to her!"

Outside, Dembe took half a step closer then stopped at Red's shake of his head.

Red met his eyes. There was no anger, only resignation, exhaustion and a deep pain. Ressler faltered, but pressed on. "She's dying in there," he said, a slight crack in his voice as he pointed back to the hospital, "and I need to know why!"

"I know," Red said, wiping a blood stained hand over his eyes. "I know you do."

With an effort, Ressler calmed somewhat, "Please tell me. I can't make any sense of this," he asked the criminal, leaning back from Red. "Please."

Red chewed his lip, then spoke. "I don't know all of the pieces yet. But the man who did this has wanted leverage over me for some time. He found that leverage."

When Ressler kept silent, gritting his teeth, Red continued. "Or, Tom found that leverage, I should say, and the man found him. It's the reason Nik Korpal died, and now Tom."

"Shit. I knew it. I KNEW it had to do with damn Tom Keen," Ressler hissed, finally putting some pieces together. "And Liz walked right in on it after she left me." The words echoed in his head. She had left him after Tom called, went straight to him and almost lost her life doing it. A trail of bodies was connected to this, and Liz could still join that number. He'd seen that first hand at the wood chipper that afternoon while looking for Tom. Well, that son of a bitch, no good husband of hers could hurt his family no longer.

A thought suddenly hit Ressler, and he gasped. "Agnes?!" He couldn't believe he had forgotten the baby in all of this. "Is she-"

"She wasn't in the apartment. I have to assume she is safe with the nanny."

Ressler exhaled and leaned back in the seat.

"But what matters now, Donald, is Elizabeth's wellbeing. I can't linger here all night. I've stayed too long as it is," Reddington said, looking squarely at Ressler. "I need you to stay with our girl." Red's hand patted Ressler's knee. "Stay with her and I will call you and check on her at regular intervals. Dembe and I will return to the apartment and see if we can find anything else. We left in…rather a hurry."

Ressler nodded. "I'll get hold of the babysitter," he said, his mind racing now. They needed to know if the baby was safe.

"Thank you, Donald." Red motioned to Dembe, who'd been hovering nearby the whole time and the man walked back over to the car. With some answers now, or rather information that posed more questions, Ressler put his hand on the door handle to exit the car. Red grabbed his arm in a swift movement.

"Promise me you will not do anything rash."

The statement took Ressler by surprise. Right now he was just managing to breathe and keep his head above water. The time for rashness had not yet arrived. But as usual, Reddington was three steps ahead.

"Promise me," Red repeated.

Ressler met his eyes intently, "If I find out who did this to her, I can't promise I can let it go."

Red's hand gripped his arm harder. "That's what Tom Keen said. He refused to let it go and walk away." They both knew the result of that decision.

Ressler looked away as Red patted his forearm. "I can't lose you, Donald. And Elizabeth most certainly cannot. Promise me you will at least come to me first if and when you find something to pursue."

Ressler nodded to the criminal. That he could promise. "I will."

"Thank you," said Red, patting Ressler's arm once more before removing his hand.

Ressler studied the criminal. He looked like he'd aged 10 years. He couldn't vouch for how he himself looked either. "I'll stay with her," he said, and would have done that regardless of what Reddington had asked of him.

"I know you will," Red replied, then looked away. Ressler hesitated a moment longer, then opened the door to stand back in the parking garage where Dembe was waiting by the car.

"Goodnight, Agent Ressler," Dembe said before he sat in the driver's seat. Ressler nodded to the black man, glanced at Red one more time, then stood in the parking garage as Dembe drove off, heading back up the ramp to the waiting city.

###

After reentering the hospital, Ressler headed straight for the observation room. Tom's body was still there, and two gowned men were with him, preparing to wheel the covered gurney to the morgue.

"Wait," Ressler said to them, flashing his badge. He didn't have time to screw around with jurisdiction. "FBI. I came in with him. I need to see if he has a phone on him."

"His personal effects are in this bag," one of the men said, reaching behind him and handing the bag to Ressler. Inside the bag was a wallet, keys, a watch, a wedding ring, and a cell phone. He reached into the bag and took the phone.

"Thanks, this is all I need," he told them, then stepped aside as they wheeled the gurney out of the room. The babysitter's number wasn't the only thing Ressler wanted on Tom's phone. Somewhere in there had to be a clue as to what he'd been up to. That leverage that Reddington had spoken of. Turning the phone on, he opened the contacts, and was thumbing through them for one name. Rosa. He'd heard Liz say her name often enough to know she was the nanny. He found the number, pulled his own phone out and dialed it. As he waited for it to answer, he stepped into the elevator to head back up to the waiting room.

He was stepping out of the elevator when the woman answered, and halted outside the surgical waiting room. Her voice was unsure, not recognizing his number at this time of night.

"This is Special Agent Donald Ressler. I am Liz Keen's partner. I need to ask you if you are her child's nanny and if you have Agnes Keen with you tonight." He said it in a rush, businesslike, but inside his heart was hammering. If Agnes was not there…

"Oh, my, yes, I have her here," she replied and Ressler exhaled in relief. "I've been trying to call Liz but she's not picking up."

Ressler looked down, eyes on the shiny tile floor as he held the phone to his ear. All he could see in his mind's eye was the blood trail that the janitors had mopped up earlier. He snapped his eyes shut. "There's been an…incident. Liz is in the hospital and in surgery right now."

"Oh!"

Ressler continued, "Is it possible for you to keep Agnes there with you tonight?"

The woman was flustered, "Yes, I can keep her, sure. But what about Tom? Is he not able to get her?"

Ressler hesitated. "No, he's not able to," he answered, clenching his teeth. "You have my number. If anything changes with Agnes, please call me."

"Yes! Yes, I will take care of her. She's no trouble at all. I'm happy to help," she said, regaining her composure now. "But what happened with Liz that she is in surgery? It sounds serious!"

Ressler couldn't answer that. "We'll know more tomorrow. Thank you," he told Rosa, and hung up before she could ask any more questions. He slipped his phone into his pocket and walked back into the waiting room. The others had returned to the small alcove room, and Cooper stood as Ressler entered.

"Everything okay?" he asked, then winced. Everything was certainly not okay. "I mean…"

Ressler knew what he meant. "I spoke to Reddington." He didn't elaborate on what he'd found out in their conversation. "He's gone back to Liz's apartment."

"We've been wondering about Agnes," Samar said as Aram nodded beside her.

"The nanny has her. She's safe." For now, he thought.

"Oh, thank God!" Aram said, dropping back in the seat. "If anything had happened to her…"

The phone in the waiting room rang behind them. Ressler raced to it and picked it up on the third ring.

"Yes?"

"Is this the party waiting for news on Mrs. Keen?" the woman on the other end said. It was a different voice from before. Ressler's heart was in his mouth, dreading hearing what the woman was calling for.

"It is, yes," Ressler answered.

"Mrs. Keen is all finished in the OR. We're moving her to recovery, and the surgeon will be up to talk to you shortly."

"But, how is she?" Ressler asked, gripping the phone.

"The doctor will be up to talk to you soon," she said, then hung up. Ressler stood there with the phone in his hand, as he stared at the others.

"Well?"

"What?"

"What did they say?"

A chorus of questions met him. "She's out of the OR. Doctor will tell us what's going on soon," he said, and slowly placed the phone back in its cradle again.

"Which means… what?" Aram said.

"I don't know," Ressler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"That's all they said?" Samar asked.

"That's all she said, yes!" he hissed and turned away, running his hands through his hair.

10 minutes later an elevator dinged, and the surgeon who had initially drilled the hole in Liz's skull strode out to meet them. Still dressed in green scrubs, he removed his surgical hat as he stopped in front of them. Ressler eyed the man silently, not trusting himself to speak.

"Dr. Harris," he introduced himself. "I just did the surgery on Mrs. Keen."

"How is she?"

"Is she okay?"

"Let the man speak," said Cooper, ever the voice of reason. "Doctor, please continue."

"Take a seat," the doctor said, motioning to the chairs nearby. As the surgeon, Cooper, Aram and Samar sat, Ressler stood silently. He was just not able to sit to hear this. With a glance up at him, the surgeon spoke.

"Mrs. Keen is very unstable. We did manage to repair the damage to her brain and skull, and she is going to be receiving blood for a while to get her back to where she needs to be."

"When can we see her?" Ressler asked.

"She'll be in critical care ICU tonight, with a nurse assigned only to her. We only allow one visitor under these conditions."

Each of them looked to Ressler. He nodded. He wasn't leaving her side.

"But how is she doing, doctor? What is her prognosis?" Cooper asked.

The doctor looked to each of them in turn, landing on Ressler. "I'm not going to sugar coat this. She's suffered a lot of damage to her brain. Her recovery is likely to be long and difficult."

"Oh, my…" Aram whispered. Samar took his hand in hers.

"It's too early to tell if she will have mobility or speech issues, or need occupational and physical therapy. Our focus tonight is on keeping her stable. If she makes it through the next 24 hours, her chances increase by a good 50%"

Aram gasped beside Samar. "You mean, she could still die?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, but yes, she could. There was significant damage," the surgeon emphasized.

Ressler closed his eyes and looked away at that.

"Oh, no," Aram said, looking like he was about to burst into tears.

"Doctor, when do you expect her to wake up?" Cooper asked, "I assume you'll want to keep her sedated for a while?"

The surgeon looked at each of them again. Ressler knew by the look in his eyes he was holding the worst till last. He held his breath.

"I'm afraid we didn't need to sedate her. The brain is a complex organ. It is very adept at protecting itself, and hers is doing just that. She lapsed into a coma before she left the OR. At this point, we do not know when she will wake up. It could be days. Weeks. Months. Or worst case scenario… she could remain in a coma for years, or never wake up."

Never. Ressler staggered, catching the reception desk behind him to steady him as his mind reeled. Around him the others had erupted, firing questions at the surgeon who was attempting to answer them. Ressler wasn't listening. Liz might never wake up!

The surgeon was speaking again, holding out his hands to quiet them all. "That's worst case scenario, but needed to be said. However, with my experience with traumatic brain injuries, I would not envisage this continuing for that long."

"How long?" Ressler asked, finding his voice.

"I think you all need to prepare yourselves for this being a long haul of several months."

Beside him, Aram and Samar hugged as they both broke down. Cooper shook the surgeon's hand as they both stood, thanking him for all he'd done.

And Ressler stood among them all, wanting to scream.