Learning to Swim Part III

Why had Liz told him to go? The question haunted Jacob.

As did the fact that he'd gone, barely pausing to question it, even knowing that she wasn't alright. That, though she might never admit it, she needed help.

He turned to the news, not knowing what he hoped to find. He doubted it would be anything good, but he needed to know.

Lizzie had sought asylum at the Russian Embassy. Jacob wasn't sure whether that was more brilliant than it was risky. Probably not, considering she'd been forced to flee, anyway, and was now in the wind.

Her hurried call ran through his mind for the millionth time.

You should go.

I've got everything under control…Obviously, she didn't.

Just go. I'll be fine…

Things are going to be messy for a while…

There's no reason for you to stay…

She'd never said she didn't want him. She'd never said she regretted letting him close again.

Could she have sent him away…Because she cared? Had she been trying to protect him, to keep him from being caught up in the coming storm she faced?

Jacob didn't want to get his hopes too high. Since he'd come back, Lizzie had tolerated him when necessary, leaned on him when she felt she had no one else. Until recently, she'd given no indication of being interested in anything more, and the few overtures she had made could easily be attributed to the stress of the circumstances.

What he did know was that she needed help. He couldn't leave her to sink or swim on her own. He knew she wouldn't just lie down and let this pass. She'd find a way to fight it, and he wouldn't let her do it alone; he'd find a way to fight with her.

The only problem was, he didn't know how.

When Jacob had made the decision to go to Wing Yee's, he'd known exactly how stupid it was. Liz would have no reason to think he might be there; there was next to no chance she'd reach out. But, it was all he could do after Ressler had refused his help.

Now, Jacob sat at a table feeling useless. He was doing about as much good as if he'd never come back at all. That was where Harold Cooper found him.

Finally, there was something he could do.

Jacob was in. Then, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number. That could mean a lot of things for someone like him.

It was Liz.

"You called Wing Yee's. I was hoping you would." He didn't know what had prompted her to reach out to him, but he loved her for knowing how. That particular method of communication had, after all, been her idea.

"I can't believe you came back." He couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Hadn't he proven already that she could count on him? Then, again, he'd left in the first place.

"Of course I came back. As soon as I heard, I came back." Then, because he realized he had no idea, and that scared him, "Are you alright?"

"You had a plan," was all Liz said, "The boat-"

"I wish you would have come with me."

"I know you went to Ressler and offered to help."

Yeah, for all the good it did.

That was probably how she'd known Jacob hadn't left, so maybe it'd done some good, after all.

"Yeah, I did," he said, "and I'm going to do everything I can."

"Listen, Tom, you don't have to do this."

Liz really cared. It really had been for his sake she'd told him to go. He marveled that she'd found it in herself to care for him again.

"I do have to do this."

"You said you wanted out of this life – out of the secrets and the lies and the risk. I don't want to be the one to drag you back into this."

She didn't understand. He'd never wanted out until he'd met her, and he'd never desired it for its own sake. He'd wanted to be with her, and that was the only way he'd seen to do it.

"You're not," he said, "You haven't." She'd actually sent him away from it all, told him to go, or had she forgotten that little detail? He was choosing this.

"Listen, Tom, you- you don't understand. I have done so many terrible things. I have hurt so many people."

Did she really think he had some saintly, idealized image of her? What, like he was just in love with the idea of her, as- as some kind of representation of the normal life she thought he wanted? Fat chance, after those four months on her boat. Granted, he generally tried not to think about that, but it had happened. He knew what she was capable of. But, he also knew her.

"I don't care what you've done. Liz, I know who you are. I took that for granted for a long time, but I don't now. So, you're right. I do have plans. I'm coming to save you."

He had grown so used to knowing that she cared. Ironically enough, it had taken that time he so tried to ignore to make him stop taking it for granted.

"Tom. Listen-"

"It's too late," Jacob said, "'Cause I'm already in."

"In where? Where are you? What have you done?"

Was she…worried about him?

Or just afraid what his methods might entail?

"I got to go," he said, turning back to his mark. "I love you."

Maybe it wasn't too much to hope that she believed him.

Jacob stood alone, removed from the group of friends and well-wishers, remembering his own engagement party. It had been a bit more…eventful than this one. He definitely could have done without Reddington's interference, but Lizzie's response had confirmed that he was making the right decision, had reminded him that she was worth every obstacle. It had also, somehow, turned the memory into a fond one.

Well, he definitely had worse memories of Liz after the truth had come out.

As Gwen approached him, striking up a conversation, he watched her carefully, curious as to what she wanted.

"Tell me, Mr. Buckley, do you believe in love at first sight?

"I don't know," Jacob said, wondering where Gwen was going with this conversation. Then, because she expected more of an answer, he thought of Liz. There had once been a time he'd thought of her as nothing more than his mark. The idea was laughable, now, after everything they'd been through, but it was true.

He remembered when she'd first intrigued him. He remembered slowly being drawn ever closer to her, never realizing what was happening until it was too late. He definitely remembered the denial. But, even after all this time, he couldn't pinpoint when, exactly, he'd fallen in love with her. He didn't think it had been in any single moment. It had been a gradual thing.

"I think love is, uh, more of an acquired taste," he said.

"Have you ever acquired it – love?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Once."

And, for a while, I was able to pretend she loved me too. She thought she did, at least.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Love isn't like an orgasm, Mr. Buckley. Once is quite enough."

More than enough, for someone like Jacob. It never should have happened in the first place.

But, he would die before he could ever bring himself to regret it, even with all the pain it had caused him. It was worth it. Lizzie was worth it.

"Yeah," he said, because Gwen expected an answer. "It should have been. Maybe it will be. Who knows, right?"

When her world had fallen apart at the seams, Liz had made the time to call him, telling him to leave, to get clear of it all. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care. Once, he would have thought it impossible for anyone to open themselves up again to someone who'd hurt them as badly as he had Liz, but he knew better now. Love really was madness. It was why he'd never been able to hate Liz, even when she'd been torturing him. It was why he'd come back for her afterward, and why he always would.

"I've loved Asher Sutton since the moment I laid eyes on him," Gwen said, and Jacob could tell she was getting to the point. "I love everything about him, including his peculiar affinity for collectibles, even at my engagement party."

They shared a laugh, then, though for different reasons.

You think this is bad? Jacob thought, You don't even want to know about my engagement party.

"On one condition," the woman continued, "That they look me in the eye and promise me that they will never, ever do anything to harm the man that I love."

As she looked at him with those hard, searching eyes that declared I won't let you hurt the man I love, Jacob was reminded of Lizzie. Of how she'd nearly killed Reddington in cold blood on just suspicion – albeit, correct suspicion – of being involved with Zamani's attack on her husband. Of how she hadn't regretted it in the least.

He tried not to hope she could ever love him like that again. He didn't quite succeed, and felt the fool for it.

Of course, Gwen wasn't threatening him; she wouldn't know how. She wasn't half as dangerous as Liz. But, Jacob knew what he needed to say.

"I promise."

He watched as the woman relaxed, surprised by the twinge of- was that guilt he was feeling? Definitely sympathy.

The poor woman didn't know what his promises were generally worth.

But, this was one that he hoped he'd be able to keep.

Jacob woke to the clanking of chains, a wave of despair washing over him. He hadn't been prepared for Liz to hate him so much. He knew, though, that she wasn't doing this because of her feelings; this was cold professionalism, and any feelings she might have had for him weren't strong enough to interfere with her interrogation either way. He wasn't sure which hurt more.

A second later, full awareness set in, and he cursed silently. Evidently, those four months had messed him up way more than he'd thought. He shoved it all back, focusing on the situation at hand.

"I want to talk to Charlie Volkens."

"You got any idea where you are, sport? You know what we do here?"

Yeah. Jacob knew exactly what he'd gotten himself into. And, what he'd dragged Asher Sutton into.

"Asher Sutton," he tried, "He has nothing to do with this." He knew the effort would be futile, but he had to try.

"Oh, yeah, he does. Tonight he does. You two got ringside seats."

"He's innocent," Jacob insisted, "You don't have to hurt him." He knew it would mean nothing to these people. What surprised him was that it meant something to him. When had that happened? He'd always kept collateral damage to a minimum – the quieter he kept his work, the better – but it had never been an emotional decision. Now, he found that he actually cared about the innocent life his actions might have destroyed. The only person he'd ever really cared about hurting before was Lizzie. When had that changed?

Ultimately, none of it made any difference. "I'm sorry," Jacob murmured as he drove the knife home, and to his surprise, it was true. He wasn't just thinking that normal people, with a conscience, would say it was wrong, or that Liz would disapprove; he actually felt remorse. But, he would do it again in a heartbeat. If there was a choice to be made, he would always choose Liz.

At the end of the day, he got Karakurt, and that was all that really mattered. It was worth it.

The next time Jacob saw Liz, she was blonde. It was a surprisingly good look on her. Then again, she could probably pull off just about anything. She'd make a great deep-cover operative; she deserved a better life than that, though.

"Some operative I am," Jacob said, "I barely recognize my own wife. Ex-wife." He tried not to look too pained at the correction. He remembered when she'd told him about the annulment. She'd brought the papers to prove it.

He'd been thinking about that time far too often lately. It was over, done and buried, and he shoved it from his mind once more, focusing on the current conversation. On where he and Liz were now.

"I should get back," he said eventually. Liz stopped him.

"You said I should have stayed on the boat and never come back."

"The truth is I never should have left," Jacob said with complete sincerity, "You were in trouble, and I walked away." He should never have abandoned her, for however short a time.

"You had a dream," Liz consoled, "I wanted you to follow it. I still do." Not because she wanted him gone. Because she cared about him. About what he wanted. And, that was when he knew he'd made the right decision.

So he said, "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Liz. I am following it." Because she was the only dream worth following he'd ever had. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so impossible as he'd once thought.

When it was all over, he proposed because she needed to know: He wasn't going anywhere.

Her answer wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. It essentially amounted to, "We'll see," and that was something he could handle. She didn't know yet whether she could commit herself to him so fully once more.

He would stick around until she figured it out.