Summary: One-shot. A continuation from where episode 8:General Ludd, left off. Warning: Spoilers!

"The best way to keep the memory of your father alive is to talk about him," he said. He. The Concierge Crime. The criminal.

She had tried to stay strong. There was pain at the funeral, but others were there to ground her. There was missing evidence during Ludd's arrest, so she had something to focus on. She sought out Red, and that gave her an excuse to keep moving. She stayed strong.

Or so she thought until seeing Red, off guard, with his emotions heavy and open to the world. He was supposed to be strong, indifferent, steady. To see grief on his face echo the grief in her heart was her breaking point. But still she fought.

She went through the motion of accusing Reddington of thievery, but they both knew her heart wasn't in it. The officer in her kept fighting, making criminal activity her number one priority. But that part was losing. In its wake was an emptiness where warmth once resided.

He said to talk about him. Sam. Her best friend. Her father.

And in that moment, Lizzie couldn't do it anymore. She realized the one constant in her present life was where she was all along. Hurting. And it was too much. She wanted to trust him in this moment, needed to. But she was scared.

"Tell me some stories," he said. He . Raymond "Red" Reddington. A man with sorrow in his eyes and pain in his heart.

He sounded as hopeful as she felt with his small smile. Hopeful her best friend wasn't dead. Hopeful all the memories they shared didn't feel as if they were following him to the grave. Hopeful that by talking about him she could keep the emptiness at bay. Tell me some stories he said. The words resounding in her mind.

So she did. There were no tears or frustrated shouts. Only an even, timid voice. She shared funny memories. She shared nostalgic memories. She shared silly, inconsequential memories, and in doing so, she realized how even those moments felt precious. She shared her feelings, thoughts, everything to the man beside her.

He didn't speak. He didn't move. But that was okay because he was there. Attentive to every word she said, every move she made, and every crack that was in her heart. Sometimes she forgot he was there. But that was okay.

Her voice tired from talking, but she went on. She had to tell. She knew, knew if she didn't her father's tale would vanish without anyone knowing. Then he really would be gone. Only when Reddington moved for the first time since they sat on the swing set to hold her hand did she pause.

He gave it a lingering squeeze. It's okay to stop. He will not disappear. You will be fine. And she only then did she notice how numb she felt after hurting for so long. She didn't return the gesture, but she didn't need to.

He was there. In that one simple act, she found a long awaited answer.

She could trust him.

A/N

Hey everyone. Just sharing my thoughts this time. If you don't care, just read the last paragraph (if you read A/N's at all).

I wanted to curl up and cry during all of Red's interactions. This was such a good episode. The ending song captured the feeling of loss, hope, and loneliness the last few scenes held from Red looking in the ViCAP database onward. This was an episode that shows the world the complexities a person has on the inside.

Thank you demonbookworm101, MysticReader99, Pengu2510, and MakorraLove97 for being the first to give wonderful reviews.

I didn't like how this one came out. Any thoughts, suggestions, or beta offers, tell me. Also, I consider NBC or any other legitimate company posting pictures on the internet free reign. If you have issues with the pictures I have posted or will post, please message me before going straight to "the guys upstairs." I will hear you out and take it down upon reading your message. Thank you.