A/N - Wow, okay. Get ready for some angst. It's a very long chapter, and I'm trying to take it to an end, because I'm afraid I might get lost. Let me know if you think It's getting weird, okay? Thanks for all the reviews!
Yes, it takes place about 4 months after the bomb, so I could bring Aram back (IDK if it's really enough time to recover, but in my universe it is xD).
It took about a month for Donald to lose the cast, so for this time he was left with desk duty. It was better than nothing, considering that Aram stayed in the hospital 3 months after the bombing. His partner was slowly coming back to work, and they still hadn't found much about what happened, and who did that.
They couldn't find much about Masha Rostova either, except that she lived in NY for 5 months after she disappeared from Russia, but her roommate didn't know about her anymore.
"She told me about meeting a guy, I guess, but she was always mysterious. 5 months after she moved in she comes, hands me cash for 1 month rent and then says she needs to go. Haven't seen or heard about her since. "
It was difficult also because the agents from the counter-terrorism department were becoming a problem. They just couldn't accept that Cooper wasn't going to share whatever happened in his private conversation with Reddington. Meera Malik was the biggest problem.
One day, 4 months after Donald and Aram had been hit by a mysterious bomb, that she came in with news that could change everything.
"I have here an order written by the Presidential representative saying that you are supposed to share whatever Raymond Reddington told you without the presence of one of our agents."
She invaded Cooper's office and pinned this document on his desk, looking more determined than ever. Cooper calmly took the paper in his hands and read it. it was really an important document signed by important people. Maybe he would have to share. Bit by bit, he decided. There were still things his team could do before he was forced to tell her. If she doesn't know she can't really say when it's over, when there is more.
"Sit down, agent Malik. You might not be so happy after I tell you."
He spent more than 1 hour talking to her, and then the entire war room heard when she lost her temper and said "This man is playing with us all, Agent Cooper!". Eyes turned towards the office, and all attentions were to them. She left the room and used this attention to announce her thoughts to everybody.
"Raymond Reddington may have told you that there is a mole inside the counter-terrorism department. He said that Masha Rostova is innocent and there is a terrorist called Berlin after her. This information happens to be wrong. What only proves that Raymond Reddington is on their side, and is trying to blow us off. Masha Rostova is a ruthless killer, dangerous and must be brought to custody immediately. She is unpredictable and we cannot have her running about like this. Agent Mojtabai, what do you have on her identity?"
Aram was confused and didn't know what to do while the little British woman kept looking at him with hasty eyes, while in his mind he pondered how much he liked Agent Navabi better. A nod by Cooper told him that he could share whatever he had with the woman, what wasn't much.
"We were able to track down her first stop once she came to the USA. She lived in a small apartment in Queens for 4 months. She had signed an agreement for 1 year, but left without notice. After that, we still have no leads."
The woman showed clearly signs of irritation and disappointment with this information, and Cooper feared his plan of telling her half-truths wouldn't really work.
"If we really want to understand what's going on, we must find Masha Rostova. She is the only one that can clarify the information."
"Do you really believe that if she is a trained assassin she's just going to come and tell us what's going on? She's gonna play for the side that better benefits her, Cooper" Malik's tone was almost as if all of those people were dumb. Inside her mind, that's what she was thinking.
"I'm not planning on asking her, Agent Malik" Cooper returned her tone with a calm one. "We're bringing her in, and we will question her, and then decide which accusations must really be done against her. We need to understand what she's doing in the USA, what she's been doing here for the past 10 years and why we are just now hearing about her."
"Maybe what Reddington said is true" Aram tried to bring some of his opinion and took the risk. "Maybe she was lied to, and decided to retire from that life. Coming here would be an attempt to start anew."
"This is lovely, Agent Mojtabai, almost a Danielle Steele novel" yes, Aram definitely hated the woman. He shared a look with his partner, and Donald just agreed with him with his eyes and kept listening. For Donald, all his instincts were tingling. He didn't want to ignore Reddington's warnings, as the man had included him as an important part of the puzzle, and for him, Agent Malik was too defensive to be innocent. Maybe she's the mole. He decided to try her out.
"Agent Malik" he called her attention, and she turned on her heels to look at him "We are far from trusting a criminal with Raymond Reddington's record blindingly as you assume we are. But you came to us to profile Masha Rostova, and now you come with a complete profile of the woman. May we ask where did you get all this information, because nothing as such came to our attention."
The woman became furious. Somehow, Donald felt almost sure that she was the mole, and he was about minutes to figure her out. What he didn't expect was for her to do what she did.
"I expect a profile on her to be ready by tonight, Agent Ressler, and maybe we can compare our data. Don't you dare defy me. You are definitely hiding something, and if Raymond Reddington's word is more important to you, than maybe you should rethink your priorities." And then she stormed out.
The people in the war room looked at one another perplexed and confused, but Donald and Cooper shared a look of understanding. Meera Malik was definitely a suspect. She didn't like the fact that their investigation had turned its attention towards Berlin and Tom Keen, and was being very emphatic on that. Maybe too emphatic.
Donald returned his attention to the documents that showed sightings of Tom Keen in Washington, D.C.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
It was a calm day, the sun was up and all the kids were out, playing. Maya was not an exception. She loved spending time at the playground in the park near their house, and Liz loved taking her there. While Maya kept playing with the other kids, she had time to grade her papers in a nice and relaxing environment, and not her cramped room at the school.
She was sitting on a bench taking over all the space with papers on "The Scarlet Letter" on one side, and a Venti cup of coffee on the other. Now and then, she would take glances to check up on Maya, who was playing with the kids from the neighborhood.
Maya was playing fetch with some of the kids, and it was her turn. Two girls from the bunch were playing unfairly, by saying that Maya could not touch them, as they were immune to her catching. She was on the verge of tears when a grown up came to her rescue.
"Hey! That doesn't seem fair, does it?" a tall man came up, stood beside Maya and looked terrifying to the other girls, who ran away. Maya looked up and recognized him as the man who was talking to her mother at the supermarket the other day. He kneeled down to be on her level and smiled at her.
"Hello, Maya, how are you?" Maya took a step back so he wouldn't touch her, as he intended to put his hands on her elbows.
"My mom is right over there." She said, pointing at the bench where Liz was sitting, looking baffled at a paper which went too far on their definition of Hester Pryne's character. She wasn't looking up. Tom Keen looked at where the girl pointed, and smiled.
"Oh, yes, I've talked to your mother already. She's so busy, isn't she? She told me to come here and take you to get a refill for her coffee. She thought you might be hungry. Do you want a muffin?"
The girl still wasn't buying him, and dodged his hands trying to grip her again.
"I'm okay, thanks. I'm going to slide now." And turned to go back closer to the playground when he grabbed her shoulder a little bit to strongly for a 6 year old. She cried with pain as he covered her mouth and turned her so she would look straight into his eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, Maya dear. I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you to help me with something. I need you to tell your daddy that you want him to help you with throwing. You want to get in the girls baseball team, you get it?"
The girl shook her head, scared. Tears were filling up her eyes.
"Now, listen to me. I'm going to let you go, and you are not going to scream, or tell your mom about me, ok? You are going to the slide, as you told me before. Don't look back, don't look for me, and if you tell your mom or your dad about our conversation, I'll kill them, and it will be your fault, okay?"
The girl nodded to agree again, visibly crying now. He let her go, and she swallowed a whimper. He grabbed her arms and told her to stop crying. "Be brave now, my love. No need for crying, I'm not here to hurt you. remember what we agreed ok?" the girl shook her head again, wiping the tears with the sleeves of her coat. She took a deep breath before running to the slide, doing her best to pretend nothing was wrong. She didn't look back.
A few minutes later, she dared a look towards the place where the man had approached her, and was glad to see he was gone. She abandoned the slides and went to her mother. She made an effort not to cry.
"mommy, I'm hungry. Can we go home?" Liz had just finished signing a D on the paper she was reading and then looked at her daughter. She immediately noticed the tracks of tears on her face, and the swelling of her eyes.
"Honey, are you okay? Have you been crying?"
The girl looked around, scared, and then lied. "I fell out of the swing, but I'm okay. Can we go?"
"Are you hurt? Why didn't you call me?
"I'm okay, mommy. Let's go"
"okay, okay. Help me grab my things, will ya?" Liz looked around, suspecting there was more to what Maya had told her. She looked at the playground and imagined that if Maya had really fell, one of the mothers there would've helped, called her, or at least made a loud comment on how she was a terrible mother for not paying attention while her daughter played. Nothing like that happened, and there were a lot of moms there. She looked at Maya, and noticed the girl was trying to hide something, and looked terrified. She knew something was wrong, but wasn't going to push her. Not here, anyway. They finished collecting the papers, Liz threw the empty coffee cup in the bin and then they walked home.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The rest of the afternoon went by, and Maya sat in front of the tv, quiet, dodging her mother's attempts to guess what had really happened at the park. When Donald came in, around 8pm, both felt relieved.
"Daddy!" Maya came running and hugged him tightly. He took her up and carried her towards the living room, while Liz entered the room from the kitchen. She gave him a welcome kiss and said they were having pizza for dinner.
"There's this new place nearby that sells ready meals, I tried at the store, it's delicious. They are just warming up in the oven." The house smelled of cheese and basil, and his stomach reacted with a hungry growl. He put Maya down and she grabbed his hand, leading him to the couch.
"Come, Daddy, I want to talk to you!"
"What is it, sugar?"
"daddy, I need your help" the girl was nervous, but she knew she had to do what the man said. "I want to join the baseball team."
That was a surprise for both Donald and Liz. The girl had never showed any interest in sports, having a knack for arts. She was an avid drawer, and her drawings kept getting better and better. They were even considering turning the shed on the backyard into a mini studio for her to paint. They could never expect her to be interested in baseball.
"Are you sure, baby? Baseball?"
"Yes, I want you to help me throw" the girl wanted to seem excited, but Liz could read right through her. That had something to do with her behavior in the park.
"Ok, then. Let's eat and then we can throw a bit at the backyard."
"Ok." The girl sighed and then went back to her cartoon. Donald got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.
"That was new" he said, peeking over Liz's shoulder as she took the pizzas from the oven.
"I don't know, Don. She's been weird since we came from the park. I guess something happened."
"What happened?" he seemed worried. He always was, when it came to something weird happening to his family. Last time a mysterious bomb went off in his car. He hated the feeling that whatever he was investigating could bite him in the ass and come after them.
"I don't know. I was grading papers, so I wasn't looking. But she came to me, and she had been crying, I know it. she said she fell from the swings, but there were a lot of adults there, someone would've called my attention, right?"
"Why was she crying , then?"
"I don't know. But she wanted to come home immediately. Since then she's been quiet, looking over her shoulder"
Don looked at their daughter, who was now peacefully watching television, sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of the sofa. She didn't seem distressed, but she was only 6. We can never know how something really affects a child.
"Hey, don't worry, ok? If she says she want to learn how to throw, I'll throw with her. Maybe while we're at it I can explore a little bit. Leave it to me, alright?" and he kissed her cheek , trying to brush the concerned look off her face. He helped her set the table and they all sat to eat.
A few slices of pizza later, Donald stood up and said "Ok, who's ready for some baseball?"
Maya wasn't as excited anymore, but she complied "Yes, okay." He shared a look with Liz, who was now cleaning the table.
"I'm going upstairs to find my ball and glove, ok, Maya? I'll be right down."
While he went upstairs, Maya went to the living room and turned on the tv again. She looked upset, not really watching the cartoon, but looking down at her feet. Liz put down the dishes and went to her.
"Hey, kiddo." She took the girl's chin and gently directed her face to look at her. "What's wrong, hun? Why won't you tell mommy?"
"I can't, mom. He will hurt you."
Liz's heart skipped a bit. Who will hurt me? Who had talked to her daughter? She tried her best to look calm as she asked Maya.
"Who will hurt me, Maya? What are you talking about?"
"The man." The girl looked down again, and whispered. "the man from the supermarket. He talked to me at the park today."
Liz struggled to remember the man who had approached them at the soup shelves a few days ago. He seemed friendly, but had something of suspicious in him. What was his name, again? Was he one working for…?
"What did he say to you, honey?" She wasn't being very careful anymore, as her heart accelerated and she started to shiver. "Tell me, Maya. What did he do to you?"
"He just said that I had to ask dad to teach me to throw. And that I couldn't tell you or he would kill you!" the girl started to cry, and Liz couldn't avoid the tears from coming from her eyes either. She hugged her daughter tightly, and wondered what they wanted with that. That's when she realized.
"Maya, go to your room, ok sweetie? Stay away from the window. Go play in your iPad, right? Mommy will be right there. it will be okay. You did well telling me. Don't worry, nothing will happen to us."
The girl ran to her room and Liz walked slowly up the stairs, feeling breathless, wondering what they might have wanted by telling Maya to do that. How could they know?
Donald dug through his closed to find his old baseball and gloves, but couldn't find anything. It had been years since he last saw them. He wasn't very fond of baseball, being more of a football man. He wondered where Maya took this sudden interest in the sport. And also thought of his own experience playing throw with his old man, when he was a kid. He wasn't very good at it, and smirked at the thought of being totally useless while trying to help his little girl.
He picked up a chair to look up the top shelves in the wardrobe but couldn't find anything but old Halloween costumes and Christmas decorations. To be sure, he decided looking on the shelves on Liz's side. Behind all the old clothes and trinkets he found and old and battered box, abandoned in the back that called his attention. He didn't remember that box at all. His curiosity took the best of him, and he wanted to see what was inside. He had a hard time trying to retrieve it, and then he picked it up and lay it on the bed. He cut the strings that were around it and then took the lid off. What he saw inside took the breath out of him.
She entered the room to catch him ruffling through her old pictures, the box she had hid aside scattered all over her bed. Her heart skipped a beat as he turned to face her, holding her old pictures and documents, tears rolling down his face.
"Don... Donald... How? Where...?"
"What is this?"
She was running out of breath, clutching to her heart as she entered the room and tried to reach him, but he stepped away. She couldn't speak a word.
"Tell me! What is this?" He raised his voice at the end of the sentence, startling her. Tears were coming out of her eyes, as she got more and more desperate. He was crumping the picture in his grasp. "Who is this?"
"It's... It's me" her confession came out on a sob, and she covered her mouth with both her hands as if to hold her secret in there. She was sobbing uncontrollably now as he got a piece of paper from the bed, her birth certificate.
Masha Ivanovna Rostova, is that you?" He said, pointing at the name he had been hunting for weeks now.
She was short of breath, sobbing, reaching for him but being smart enough not to try and touch him.
"Can you please explain why you kept this from me? Why am I seeing here that the Russian assassin I have been hunting for weeks is right here under my roof?"
Her face changed from pain to surprise when he said that. "You...are...hunting? what? Assassin? Why are you hunting me? I've done nothing!"
"you? I'm hunting a Russian assassin that has been hidden in the USA! Not my wife! You've lied to me! Ever since we met!"
"You've lied to me, too!" She tried to bring back the fact that he told her he had stopped working in the field, but she knew that was too little to compare.
"It doesn't really matter, Liz, due to the fact that lying about becoming and analyst and leaving the field does not compare to a whole different identity!" he was screaming now, like he never had screamed at her before. She could see so many emotions on his face it was making her sick. Her vision was becoming blurry and she was losing her breath.
"Please, Don, let me explain. I can..." and she lost consciousness, falling on his feet motionless. He had a mix of despair at seeing the woman he loved lying there unconscious and hurt by the reason she fainted. He let go of the paper and the picture, reached down to her, checked her pulse and then pulled his cellphone to call an ambulance.
Then he sat on the floor and pulled her up to be on his lap, trying to wake her up. His hand was shaking, his head was a mess of information, and he could see on top of the bed from where he was the photos that had been hidden so deep in her closet. He wondered why she had lied, and why now they were hunting her as an assassin. What had she been doing behind his back? No, not his Liz. She had been right there, being his wife, the mother of his daughter, 1/3 of his perfect family. She wasn't an assassin. She wasn't dangerous and unpredictable, as Meera Malik had defined her. He was a profiler, and he knew exactly who she was. He wasn't just going to accept that the woman that he loved so much had lied this much to him.
The paramedics arrived a few minutes later and they asked him to leave them as they examined her. He stood up and collected the photos and documents from the bed, putting them back into the box that he would have to take in to the FBI. It was his job, and he couldn't just hide it from them. When the paramedics took her away, one of them came back into the room to ask if he wanted to go with them in the ambulance. He said he had to do something and would follow in his car.
The man left and he finally crumbled, kneeling beside the bed, head hidden on his arm resting on the silk duvet. He was crying like a baby, confused, scared and helpless. He looked up to the room they had shared for 8 years and remembered every single moment, good or bad, that they had lived there. Not even the ugliest fight could compare to that moment, not even the most passionate night could erase his doubts. He just didn't know what to do, and who he was. He took a deep breath, stood up, and cluching the box next to his chest, dialed the number that reached his boss.