Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, sorry for the delay, the holidays have been really hectic for me, that coupled with a little writers block kept me from posting this chapter. Apparently I love quotes and declarations of love and loss haha, I hope you like this chapter, I had to split it up because it was getting too long, let me know what you think, I don't know if I'm satisfied with it and excuse me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, it was all written on my iPhone sans a betta.
Someone wise once said that death is not the greatest loss in life, but the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
We have the power to set things in motion, we make decisions each and every day, and every decision we make has a consequence, we plan for what is ahead, we make sacrifices, we make choices and stick by our convictions, all the while we fool ourselves into believing that we have complete control over our lives, that we create our destiny when in the grand scheme of things we control so little but continue to find solace in the ignorance that we actually possess free will.
Because even if we have all our ducks in a row, a clear cut plan, a fool proof sketch of what we want to happen and how we want it to happen, once we roll the dice, once a plan is set into motion, nothing is in our control, we just have to stand there and wait for the outcome. Life is just like a game of cards, each one of us hoping for the luck of the draw and that is all we can do, is hope that in the end what's meant to be, will be.
But he was used to a life of uncertainty, he had chosen a life of crime and manipulation, he was accustomed to putting himself in predicaments in which the odds were more often than not against him. He was a criminal, a fugitive who had spent the last twenty years of his life avoiding being caught, and she was sure that he would of spent the rest of his life avoiding arrest if he had so wished, and she also knew that if he ever wanted to break his agreement, he could vanish again in the blink of an eye and she would never see him again and the FBI would never come close to capturing the fourth most wanted fugitive.
Liz knew he was smart, but he was also highly intelligent and calculating, his natural abilities were magnified to the extreme because he used them to his advantage, he studied, people, places, things. He made sure to keep up on his literature, literally and figuratively; this man knew every miniscule detail of every single person who was after him and their families and associates. Knowledge truly was power and provided him with a head start over all his dealings. He seemed almost invincible to her, God-like and metaphorical, he was the epitome of every mythical character brought to life.
But today, he was more like Achilles; he made one small mistake, one deviation in the plan that could of set the whole world on fire, who knew that the man who was supposed to be immortal had one moment of weakness.
She was not like him, maybe their time together had weathered away some of her optimism in life and theory, maybe he made her jaded and cynical of the world but at the end of the day, she was who she was, the woman who Sam had raised her to be. But she was not as strong as him, she was not willing to let him play with his fate, she wouldn't condone the predicaments he put himself in.
It had never happened to her before, she was always a Mecca for a whirlwind of emotions, there was always a feeling that projected itself onto her face and body language to either mirror what was inside or try and hide it from others. She had never, ever felt this way before. She was used to being an open book, wearing her heart on her sleeve and being a terrible liar.
And suddenly her breath caught in her throat, her lungs unable to supply any air to her brain for function and her hands balling themselves into fists until they lost all their coloring but a ghostly white that mirrored the look of nothingness on her face.
It was like having the wind knocked out of you
A deer caught in the headlights
You biggest fear and scariest nightmare come alive
It actually took her breath away.
She was still alive, but all it took was a bullet aimed at his head, the sound of the gun unlocking and cocking and the trigger being pulled that was aimed at the center of his forehead and she lost the ability to think, feel, or breathe. All she could do was watch the surveillance camera from thousands of miles away.
And in that moment, something died inside her, even though he didn't. She watched from the surveillance camera inside the post office as a millisecond proved to be the difference between life and death but knowing that he had once again come out unscathed did nothing to settle her heart, something inside had already died and it would never, ever be brought back to life. It wasn't like the time she was saved from a burning house, or the loss of her biological father and mother, it didn't phase her like the betrayal of Tom or the fact that her whole life had been a lie, including their marriage. What surprised her most is that it was unlike what she felt after the loss of the father that had raised her, even the loss of Sam didn't suffice for the loss she felt with almost losing Raymond.
And then she realized how sad the word almost really was...
He almost died
She almost lost him
He almost left this world thinking she hated him
She almost never got the chance to tell him
They almost made it
She told him she hated him, called him a monster and wished that he had never entered her life, she wondered if the last words she spoke were the ones that resonated in his ears in the moments he thought were sure to be his last. She would of never forgiven herself, never forgiven him for leaving her alone, and she would of never gotten over his death, it would of haunted her like the venom in her words sliced through her veins and poisoned her very being.
She tossed and turned in bed, images of his face from hours earlier still fresh on her mind and tattooed and imprinted with no hope of ever eroding. She hadn't seen him, hadn't talked to him, and hadn't heard of his whereabouts and it made her uneasiness almost unbearable. She had to see him, she had to make sure he was alive and unscathed and she needed to apologize and she needed him to forgive her.
She also needed answers now more than ever, she needed to know why he had picked her, why he knew every single detail of her life, why he knew her better than she knew herself, how he knew her father, and what was she to him. She shuddered at the possibilities, she didn't know how to characterize or compartmentalize her feelings for him, it scared her to death, she needed to know if these feelings were platonic and familial or…. She couldn't even let herself finish her thought because of the knots in her stomach and the fear in her heart. She took a couple deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves to no avail, either way she had to know the truth, she had to face it head on and she would make him tell her at the least if he was her biological father, regardless of the outcome she needed to know because she had spent too long trying to block her feelings towards him, at least the answer would bring her peace, even though there was a chance it could also gift her with shame and embarrassment and most of all a shattered and broken heart.
She got up and put some clothes on, brushed out her tousled hair and put a bit of make-up on. She decided to go confront him at the safe house she knew he would be at in a couple of hours but first she needed a drink or two to get off the edge and to give her some liquid courage to confront her biggest fears; her paternity and his rejection.
She threw back a couple drinks at a bar near her place and blew time by rehearsing a speech she planned to use on him. When she was satisfied with what she would say and when the alcohol had relaxed her nerves, Liz paid her tab and headed his way. He should've arrived at the safe house by now and would have a good hour to unwind before she drove to his place.
She got out of her car and made her way up the steps of the safe house, her fingers shaking as she balled them up into a fist and knocked on the door. An after thought occurred, what if he wasn't alone with just Dembe? What if Samar was inside with him, a shiver went up and down her spine and she shuddered involuntarily. This is a mistake she thought as panic overtook all other emotions, she was ready to chicken out and run back to her car even though she was sure that if he was inside, he had heard her pull up and walk up the steps.
Before she could collect her thoughts, she heard the click of the lock and then watched as the door swung open.
And there he stood, right in front of her in the flesh.
She took a deep breath and sighed heavily, trying to calm down the rapid beating of her chest; it felt like her heart could jump right out of her body at any given moment. He stood in a pair of grey slacks and its matching vest and a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, even slightly disheveled, he still looked put together, and more appealing if that were possible.
He held the door open with one hand and on the other he held a glass with his favorite drink in it.
"Lizzie," He breathed her name while his eyes danced in tune with the singsong way he chose to say her name. His voice would be the death of her, it was seduction, power, nirvana, and ecstasy all rolled up into one. It was like eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, it was the worst form of temptation because she knew the consequences going in but it didn't stop her from wanting to desperately take a bite out of the apple and gladly face the consequences afterward.
"I must say, I wasn't expecting you this early." He chewed at the inside of his cheek before the side of his face lifted slightly upwards in a sly smile, Lizzie let out a huff, smug bastard, she thought. He knew she would come to him, she couldn't even see any indication that he feared she would walk away. She should of felt offended like she did when he expected and was right about her jealousy towards him giving his attention to another woman, the possessiveness she felt over him scared her half to death.
She didn't move and she didn't speak a word, all she did was study him, his eyes met hers and she completely fell apart. Her eyes glistened with tears that began to slowly run down her cheek before picking up speed and making her face a makeshift waterfall.
Red's playful tone and amused eyes quickly turned to worried and concerned. His breath hitched and lips parted, he knitted his eyebrows in confusion.
"Lizzie, sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asked while opening the door further and reaching out to guide her inside the house. He hated to see her upset, or angry but nothing was worse than seeing her cry, he wished that for once he could be the one to put a smile on her face, the reason for her happiness instead of the cause for her tears and pain.
As soon as his hand made contact with her arm, she quickly shrugged it off, "No." She gasped, her voice coming out raspy and thick, "Don't." She warned with the gentle shake of her head. The tears continued to flow in unison.
"I have nightmares, still, to this day about the fire, about losing Sam, about Tom and my life of lies, they are vivid and they seem so real and painful and terrifying, sometimes I feel like I actually died in my dreams. But you want to know what's so wonderful about my nightmares?" Lizzie looked up at Red who was listening to her intently, he seemed frozen into place, unable to move or speak. All he could give her was a shake of the head.
"My nightmares are not real, I get to wake up from them, but today I woke up into a nightmare, I thought you were going to die, I thought I would never see you again, I thought I would never get to hear your voice, I thought that the things I said to you were the last words that were running through your head and then I realized something…no, I acknowledged something that I refused to admit to you or myself that losing you would be like hearing every single goodbye ever said to me- said all at once."
She would've sworn that she would of never bared witness to Raymond Reddington rendered speechless. But there he stood, stoic and still and she could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, a moment of weakness in which he showed her raw emotion before composing himself again. She didn't want calculated and thought out responses, she wanted truth and honesty, before he could muster up a response, she used the sleeve of her coat to pat her eyes and nose and walked right past him inside the house.
Red let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, the veins in his neck protruding while he cupped the glass of amber liquid quite forcibly and closed the door shut. He took a minute to rest his head against the oak wood and locked it back into place. He knew she was vulnerable and scared and he tried to mentally prepare himself for her declarations and his responses, she wasn't thinking clearly, she was upset and scared of losing someone who was a constant in her life, someone who provided fluidity and comfort and familiarity, he had to be careful and tread lightly, she made it clear earlier that she wished she would of never met him, and even though she might feel remorseful about her words, he knew she meant them, he wasn't good enough to fill any position in her life, least of all the person he wanted to be to her.
He walked through the house and found her pacing the kitchen, she had taken off her coat and looked absolutely breathtaking with her hair swaying around her face and her hands on each of her hips while lightly biting the side of her lip, she walked in circles clearly deep in thought.
He took a big swig of his whiskey and let the liquid travel down his throat before letting out a sigh and slowly making his way towards her.