This is rather angst-filled. No joke. I wrote it and re-read it and thought to myself 'why?' I felt so bad and tried to fix it, but the angst just intensified, so I took it as a sign to stop trying and let it be,lol.
Dembe drove like a maniac, tearing through the streets of D.C.
Red was thankful for his erratic driving, really.
Being fearful for his own life was quite effective in gaining him the perspective needed to calm down.
Lizzie couldn't be dead.
They lied to move her. It was that simple.
He was out of the car before Dembe had even stopped fully.
The team was waiting for him.
They all looked like hell. Red rimmed eyes, all around.
Ressler's usually perfect hair was sticking out on end as if someone had grabbed it and pulled.
"Reddington you need to leave. The team that is transporting Liz's body to the coroner has been given orders by Dept. of Justice to bring you in. As number four, a warrant isn't even needed. Get out of here. We will contact you with answers when we have them. This is the only warning you'll get."
Red kept strolling as if Donald hadn't even spoke. He walked up to Aram, who he knew to be truthful and frankly too terrified to lie to him.
He knew not to bother with the boy-scout. If he had to deal with his derision of Lizzie being arrested to begin with, he would put a bullet between his eyes.
"Mr. Reddington?" He was nervous, visibly upset, but maintained eye contact with Red.
"Aram, I'll ask you one time only. Is Agent Keen dead? What happened?"
"They were to the vehicles, sir, they were loading her in one of the SUV's and she just ran. She removed her cuffs and somehow cuffed her two escorts together through the handle of the truck so they wouldn't chase her. She made it to the entrance of the parking garage when one of them gunned her down. She…she didn't get back up. There was blood…The blood."
Aram turned away, could no longer to continue for the memories swamping him.
Red wanted to fall apart, to follow her to wherever her final resting place may be, but he had too many questions left unanswered.
Red then looked to Agent Navabi for confirmation and to continue the tale.
"She didn't get up, but her escorts were unable to get her. We had been watching on the video feed and went to help her, but she was gone by the time we arrived. CPR would have been useless."
Red was done listening. He whirled around with Dembe close on his heels. He had to get away, Lizzie had cared for these people.
He believed she would be disappointed in him if they joined her.
On the outside, he looked fairly calm. The tick of his cheek the only physical manifestation of his inner turmoil.
On the inside he was a tidal wave of emotion. He allowed her to be arrested as part of the plan.
Her plan. At first, he was reluctant, but it was brilliant. It was the easiest and fastest way to destroy the cabal.
The Director would have to come out to question her. He couldn't hide behind his army of spooks at Langley.
They would be able to put a tail on him and find out where the Cabal holds its meetings.
The arrest of one of the only living people with actual knowledge of the fulcrum was a coup that they would want to celebrate. A gathering for a job well done.
Even if they weren't the ones to orchestrate it.
So Lizzie was captured and he was left to operate, plan, and move their people and teams accordingly.
Why the hell would she try to escape? That wasn't part of the plan. Something had to have changed. She wouldn't have run unless she had a real reason to be afraid.
He would find that reason and everyone involved would pay with their lives.
Red had managed to keep his composure up until they he reached their bedroom.
The bedroom where tangled sheets and moans were much more frequent than actual sleeping.
Where he would kiss her from head to toe.
The tears streamed down his face, unchecked.
Nothing mattered anymore. He knew he was alone in his grief and Dembe wouldn't let anyone interrupt him.
He also knew that Dembe was grieving as well, but he couldn't help but be selfish and go off to lick his wounds alone.
Looking at the bed, he thought of what would never be. The plans whispered in the aftermath of love, never to come to fruition.
He cried for all of the cities they would never visit, the stars they could never kiss under, ever again.
His grief rolled over him, his body quaking with sobs.
After a time, his tears dried and an icy fist held his heart.
His love, his only reason for breathing was gone.
It was time to start planning.
Tbc…
Please let me know what you think!