AN: I know, I know, I know! I'm sooo sorry. I was forced to write this! *glares at jackandsamforever* It's going to stay a little angsty, so be warned. Thank you for your support and great reviews. Special thanks goes to criminalkeen for being a great beta!
Disclaimer: I do not own TBL
Chp. 11
Liz was in the bathroom, sitting in a tub at their new safe house. They had traded their villa for the new place. The water from the showerhead kept raining down on her, the water in the tub no longer red, but freezing by now.
She felt bad for not being with Ray, but Kaplan had told her to take care of herself first. She stood on shaky legs and stepped out of the shower, before drying herself with a fluffy towel. She quickly dressed in yoga pants and one of Red's dress shirts, not bothering with a bra.
He would be back by now, so Liz walked towards the study, knowing that was the place to find him. She slowly opened the door and saw him sitting in one of the chairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the bottle already one third short of the liquid. He had cleaned himself up apparently and was now only wearing dress pants and a button-down shirt, which wasn't even tucked in.
"Ray?" He didn't react. Maybe he hadn't heard her. "Ray?" Liz tried again, this time reaching for his shoulder.
Before her hand could come in contact with his body, the man stood and walked towards the window. "Please leave." He spoke, his voice strained and rough.
"Ray -"
"Leave. I want to be alone."
Liz nodded. "I'll be in the bedroom, if you need anything."
He didn't seem interested and she didn't want to bother him any longer.
The Blacklist The Blacklist The Blacklist
He hadn't come to bed that night, and the night after that, not even the night after that. He avoided her as well as he could. He didn't eat, only drank and only whiskey. He was drunk most of the time and no one wanted to get near him while he was in this mood.
The time Liz had seen him, when Red had stumbled drunkenly through the hallway in search of the bathroom, she had seen the dark circles under his eyes, the way his eyes seemed to have fallen in and how he had already seemed to have lost a good couple of pounds. It had been a week since Dembe had been shot and killed. A week since she had last touched Red; she hadn't even been able to talk to him. That one time, on day three, she had poked at him to get a reaction, any reaction, Red had exploded. He had shouted at her to leave him alone and to take care of her own shit.
After being startled at first, she had quickly grasped the fact that she should give him a couple of more days. She knew he was hurting. Liz herself was hurting and she couldn't even imagine how Dembe's death must hurt him. She had learned that Red had taken care of Dembe's funeral and had attended it alone, too. It was hard, but if that was what he wanted, then so be it.
On day eight Lizzie had enough. She walked into the study, carrying a tray with food and drinks. She had made some scrambled eggs and bacon, buttered a few slices of bread, put out some fruits and poured him a glass of juice and some coffee.
She walked up to where he was sitting, whiskey in hand, with more than slight stubble on his face. "Eat something," she said softly. He ignored her. "Ray, you need to eat something."
"Why can't you just leave me alone?!" He spat.
Liz swallowed hard. "I made some scrambled eggs. Just eat some of it at least."
"Oh, you made it? Well, isn't that damn fine!" He practically jumped up from his chair and came to a stop in front of her. "That must be your greatest achievement so far!" He said sarcastically, his voice raised.
"Ray, you need to -"
"Do you know what I need? For you to fucking leave!"
She stood her ground. "I know how you must feel."
"Oh, do you now? I don't give a damn! You're the reason he's dead! You are! If it weren't for you my best friend would still be alive! His blood is on your hands! And you have the nerve to come here and tell me you know how I feel?! I'll tell you how I feel! I feel like you should fucking leave me alone!" He shouted at her and then ripped the tray from her hands, throwing it against a wall. Glass and ceramic shattered; there was food everywhere and Liz could hardly breathe. "Leave," he growled dangerously, his eyes shimmering with sheer anger.
She had never been scared of him, not up to this point. Liz turned and made her way quickly to the bedroom, where she fell onto the mattress face first and sobbed uncontrollably. She knew what she had to do.