Raymond Reddington sat on the uncomfortable cot in his cell with head down and eyes closed. His mind a million miles away and years ago, he was back in Cologne, Germany in a meeting at a restaurant. It was a simple deal. A purchase then subsequent merger of a trucking company that had one of the main supply routes through Germany. So simple that he barely paid it much attention. He'd won far larger contracts before and since then.

What then…his mind concentrated. If a larger trucking company took on a supply route… then it stands to reason that smaller companies may have fallen by the wayside. And if Anton had one of those companies, then perhaps that might explain this. If the man lost his business and his livelihood, perhaps the bombings of his own businesses had been Anton's way of setting things right.

But Red understood that none of that explained taking him prisoner. This was something else. This was something more… personal. He needed to talk to the man. As he opened his eyes, the room came back into focus around him. Dimmed lights in the room softly lit the lone guard sitting silently on the chair. Dembe was asleep on the cot in the cell beside him. Something he should likely be doing himself but he had other things on his mind. And not only what he'd done to piss off Anton.

Lizzie and Donald were out there.

And he didn't need to be a genius to know they were in trouble. Even from inside their cell room he could hear the wind buffeting the building. In the distance a window shutter thumped relentlessly on the walls outside. It would be well below zero and at life threatening levels if they were still trapped in whatever hole they'd fallen through to - if they were still alive. Their fates were currently unknown and that was a burden on his heart.

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes again. There was nothing he could do from in here. But that didn't mean he wasn't working on things. Dembe had been exactly right on that.

###

Liz and Ressler lay together under the blankets, seeking warmth and much more from each other. Out of shared desperation at their situation and the need to feel close, they clung to each other in silent unity. And in the dark their bodies pressed into each other as he rolled slightly onto her, his knee dropping between hers. Finding his fingers in her hair, he gathered her into him feeling certain she'd feel his heart hammering in his chest.

As their lips opened and their tongues found each other she leaned up to meet him in confirmation that his initiated move had been welcomed. And in the dark, unable to see the other they simply felt. And breathed. And held on tight. And kissed their partner and best friend.

From a working standpoint it was wrong, they knew that. Yet it was also right and necessary at this moment as they explored each other for the first time.

And then as quickly as it had begun they drew in a breath as their lips slowly broke apart in unspoken agreement. His hand released her hair as hers dropped to his cheek. Their foreheads touched in the dark and with eyes closed they breathed close to each other. A mere incline of his head and he'd be on her lips again. But in silent understanding, it wasn't their intention that it lead any further.

Running his thumb lightly over her lips, feeling her tongue still reaching for him, he lingered a moment longer. Raising his head he kissed her forehead before rolling back off her now. As he rested his chin on her hair, he waited for her to break their surprisingly easy silence and was amazed when he spoke first. He didn't address the kiss. That didn't need discussion. They'd said it all in that briefest of moments.

"How much did you hear…?" he asked her with his voice croaking, wondering just how long she'd actually been awake listening to his … ramblings.

"Enough…" she told him, lifting her head toward him again in the dark.

"And you didn't say anything…?" he whispered, as it was more understandable than his hoarse croaks.

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard a man be honest with me…" she said softly. "I didn't want to stop you…" she told him, cupping his cheek now as she felt his 4 day growth beneath her hand.

"Well…in my defense, I didn't know you were listening…" he whispered, smiling into her hair.

"You don't need to defend yourself with me," she told him, patting his cheek. "You know that, right?"

He knew that. "Yes ma'am," he replied, recalling their earlier discussion and then heard her chuckle softly.

"You okay?" she asked him more seriously now.

"Yup. You?" he asked, still resting his chin on her hair.

"Yeah," she replied, moving her hand from his cheek and putting it under his jacket and around his waist now. "But my head hurts, and I'm so cold…"

His hand found the bump on her head and gently cradled it before he'd even realized he was doing it.

"Liz…"

"Yeah?"

How did one say 'thank you for being stuck out here and freezing to death with me, because really, I'd rather it be you dying with me than anyone else'? And knowing nothing would sound right, he decided it was better left unsaid.

"Nothing."

She responded by adjusting her arm around him. She knew what he was struggling to say.

He held her silently and when she hadn't spoken for a few minutes he began to think she had drifted off to sleep. And intent on at least trying to get some rest tonight, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about how cold he was.

"Ress…?"

He opened his eyes at her voice. "Yeah?"

"You were wrong…"

"Wouldn't be the first time," he told her, smiling his half smile and wondering just what he'd been wrong about THIS time.

"I'm serious," she said, buried in his chest, shivering.

"I know. Ignore the jerk here. Continue…" he told her quietly.

"I don't deserve better."

His breath caught in his throat. She'd heard almost all of what he'd said in his halting little speech, trying to justify how he felt and why it was wrong. He grimaced in the dark.

"Yes, you-"

"No," she interrupted, "You said we're not in a good place, and I agree with that part... I'm broken. You're broken. And yet I wouldn't change that, because we're the only ones who truly understand that in each other."

He listened to her words in the dark, and didn't reply as he digested what she'd said.

"And that's why…" she stopped, raising her head to him again, "that's why it's so easy to care about each other, even when our job demands we're not supposed to. Because we're the same..."

Moving his head a little, he rested his chin back on her hair again in the dark. She'd put it into words far better than he had.

###

Toward morning the door to the cell room opened, letting in three silhouetted figures. Young and two more of Anton's men approached the cells. The half-asleep guard also stood and joined them. Dembe rose as they approached and silently moved toward Red at the bars. Even from his adjoining cell he was ready to protect his boss if the need arose.

"Gentlemen. We will be moving you soon," Young said, looking squarely at Red.

"And I was just enjoying these lovely accommodations. Tell me, where will you be moving us too?" asked Red, standing at the bars.

Young regarded him a moment before speaking, briefly looking at Dembe and back to Red. "I don't know. We're just here to get you ready." And motioning to the two men with him, he raised his weapon on Red as the door to the cell opened. Behind him, the guard trained his weapon on Dembe.

Entering the cell, the two moved to cuff Red but he did not raise his hands for them. Still looking at the gun wielding man in front of him, he spoke to Young again.

"Where is Anton? I need to speak with him."

"You'll see him soon enough," Young told him, "but for now let's keep this civil and let these two cuff you..."

Red wasn't sure, but was almost convinced Young had been about to add 'please' to that demand. Tilting his head and smiling at the man, he dutifully held out his hands in front of him. As the two men cuffed him, he addressed Dembe beside him.

"Just do as they say, Dembe. It will be okay." As the two men led Red from the cell, he stood close to Young while they cuffed Dembe. "Choices, Mr Young," he said under his breath as Young's eyes flew to meet his.

"Whatever you're trying to do. Just quit," he told Red quietly as he looked directly at him.

Red simply smiled pleasantly in reply and would have slapped the man encouragingly on the shoulder, had his hands not been cuffed.

###

Unable to believe he'd fallen into an exhausted sleep for three hours, Ressler looked at the time on his phone - 5:47am - the time he'd normally be getting up and heading for the shower. And as much as he didn't want to venture out into the cold air, his bladder was insisting. Extricating himself from Liz, he dropped the blankets back down as she stirred but did not wake. His muscles protesting painfully as he climbed to his feet, he grimaced in the cold air before heading for the tiny back room with its bucket.

The wind had dropped as they'd slept. Venturing to the dirty window at the front of the building, he stood shivering with hands in pockets but was unable to make out a thing outside. The sun wouldn't be up for a little while yet and with nothing to see in the dark he turned his attention to the sled. Fully aware there were no other matches, he searched anyway under the light of his phone. Liz was certainly right about that stubborn streak in him. That stubborn, male bullshit to be exact. And despite how cold he was and the pain radiating from his shoulders, he smiled at that.

But when he uncovered the First Aid kit his smile dropped immediately. She was right about that too.

He was broken.

"Shit…" he swore quietly. Opening the kit, the pills almost taunted him as they sat right on top of the contents. And gritting his teeth, a sheet of 8 was suddenly in his hand. Telling himself to just put them the hell down, he ignored his own advice. The pills were already in his pocket. It was just in case, he told himself. Just in case he needed to help Liz.

"You just keep telling yourself that…" he whispered, clenching his jaw as he now found what he needed to patch up his bleeding shoulder.

Applying a makeshift field dressing (that he knew Red would find appallingly sloppy), he managed to patch up his shoulder as best he could. Without getting undressed and only utilizing one stiff arm, it would have to suffice. And after he stowed the First Aid kit, he raised his head to the ceiling, closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.

The first hint of light was visible now as he peered back through the murky window. Below ground level in their pit, the sunlight had not yet reached the small building, keeping it in cold shadow. Leaning on the window as the light slowly grew outside he closed his eyes, feeling the cold glass against his skin.

Behind him, Liz stirred. As he heard her complain about the cold under the blankets, he left the window and lifted the tarp off her. As she sat up, shivering in the room as the blankets left her, he helped hoist her to her feet.

"Whoa…" she whispered, holding onto his arm. "My legs haven't woken up yet…"

It was more than that though. Her muscles had been locked up in the cold for too long. As she unsteadily left his side to find their bucket as the light increased in the room, he was drawn back to the front window.

"Damn it…damn it…damn it…" he whispered, closing his eyes. They were alone out here. And they were running out of time. There had not been many times in his life he'd felt completely at a loss as to where to turn next. Decisions to be made usually presented themselves easily. And fully aware the continual cold was affecting his brain, he opened his eyes and viewed the bleak landscape outside as a reluctant idea began to take hold in his mind. But once he'd considered it, there was no going back. He knew what he had to do.

Coming back into the main room after using their pseudo restroom, her eyes viewed the scene outside the window. "What are we going to do?" she asked him, coming to slowly stand at his side.

She stood by him clutching two blankets around her shoulders as the first rays of the sun touched the snow. As he looked sideways at her, the idea in his brain came fully to fruition. They only had one choice. "Well, I'm thankful we have shelter," he told her, his hoarse voice breaking often.

He turned to face her now. "But… we can't stay here indefinitely. And you're not going to be able to travel."

"I'll try, and I can sit in the sled some…" she told him, hating that she sounded so useless.

He licked his bottom lip as he looked at her, his eyes meeting hers. "I am not going to be able to drag the sled for long, and you can't walk far, Liz, so I need to go-"

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, realizing where he was going with this. "Don't you dare!"

He dropped his gaze, then looked back up at her. "I have to, Liz." Yet as he told her, he didn't like the thought of leaving her alone any more than she did. But it was now the only way.

"No! You can't go out there alone!" she told him, motioning outside the window.

"You won't make it out there, Liz." And in confirmation of that fact, she swayed and grabbed at the window ledge. "You can barely stand. And I can't drag you all that way. You'll…" he hesitated, then continued more gently, "You'll slow me down. I have to go out there and find us help."

"You won't make it out there much longer than I would have! Neither of us has eaten well in days! You're hurt and bleeding and not much better off than me," she told him, and as she lost her balance he grabbed her shoulders and lowered her to her knees.

"We're out of time, Liz. If I don't try, we could both die out-"

"And you could die out there on your own! What happens if you get in trouble? There is no one to back you up!" she cried, searching his eyes desperately to try and dissuade him.

"Look…I'm not saying it will be easy, Liz. I'm saying we have no choice."

She looked at him silently, seeing the set of his jaw and the resolute look in his eyes. He'd made up his mind. Sighing, she reluctantly had to admit that he was right. They were out of options.

"Then you had damn well better make it, do you hear me?" she told him, raising her chin a little before him.

"I'll make it. I'm just that stubborn," he told her, giving her his half smile. And kneeling with her as she grasped his jacket, he didn't know if he could. But he was damn well going to give it his best shot.

###

In a reversal of their entry to the cell blocks, Red and Dembe were being led back up the stairs to the roof where the helicopter was waiting. Feeling the air growing colder as they approached the small building at the top of the metal stairs, Red was more interested in the wind speed if they were about to take off in it. It had dropped though, of that he was certain. But as the door to the roof blew open in front of him after being snatched out of the hand of one of Anton's men, he revised his estimate a little. It was still blowing a fair clip.

"Anton, far be it from me to complain, but I must admit to a little apprehension at taking off in these wind speeds," he told his captor who had appeared in the open door above them.

"It's a bigger helicopter than what we arrived in. Or maybe you are just afraid?"

Stepping onto the roof, Red's concerns were allayed somewhat at the sight of the larger helicopter waiting. Not realizing he'd stopped walking until he felt the sharp point of Young's weapon in his back, he addressed the man evenly as he turned his head a little.

"Must you? I've spent a very uncomfortable night on an unforgiving cot, and you ramming that into my spine is about to really get my day off to a bad start."

Young looked at Red as if to say something, but instead removed the gun from Red's back. "Just get on board, okay?" he said quietly.

Obliging, Red continued to the chopper where he was pulled roughly on board by one of Anton's men. Sitting down hard in one of the seats, he was soon joined by Dembe at his side. Looking around the interior, his eyes landed on a familiar face.

Mr Campbell. How's the leg doing?"

Campbell hesitated, then looked to Red. "My name's not Campb-"

"I don't need to know what your name is. Campbell will suffice," Red told him. "Again, how's the leg doing?" he asked, looking at the fresh plaster cast on Campbell's leg.

"It's doing better, thanks…" Campbell told him, his eyes darting to Anton who was buckling himself into a seat nearby. Young sat two seats down from his boss, across from Dembe.

As Red and Dembe worked together to retrieve and clasp their respective seat belts while handcuffed, the rotors fired up above their heads.

"Where are you taking us? I believe I have a right to know that."

"You don't have any rights," Anton told him curtly.

As the helicopter rose into the air, Red faced Anton again. "Everyone has rights. Just what have I done to you to warrant this and negate such rights?"

"I told you."

"No, you gave me a year. And from that I gleaned it was to do with a meeting in Cologne, Germany. From there I ascertained it was to do with a business merger involving a trucking company," Red told the man, raising his voice above the rotors. "After that, things get a little muddy."

"Her name was Anita." Anton told him, leaning toward Red. "And thanks to your business venture, I lost her."

Red regarded the man, having suspected he'd lost someone in this. "If I caused the death of your… wife… then I am truly sorry. But if it was as a result of my business dealings, then I can assure you-"

"Do not assure me!" Anton raised his voice now, shouting across to Red.

Dembe moved an inch toward Red, his leg muscles tightening. Ready to pounce if need be.

The helicopter had made its ascent and turned north east, heading further away from the building. And further away from the quarry, Red noted. His thoughts briefly turned to Lizzie and Donald, before he returned his focus to the man in front of him.

"What can I do to make this right?" he asked Anton, trying to defuse the situation.

"There is no making this right! But I'll be done with you soon, once we're at the airport."

Red was watching Anton before him and saw something now. The man was not happy with having to take him to the airport. As if he were handing him off to someone. Acting under orders. Red had his answer now. Someone was pulling the strings. And that someone was apparently using Anton's single-minded vendetta to their benefit.

"Apparently this is an attempt to make this right for someone else though, correct?" asked Red. It was a simple question. But the change in tack threw Anton off his game completely.

"That is of no concern to you!" he yelled. And rising to his feet, he produced a hand gun from inside his coat and held it levelly on Red.

Red motioned to Dembe to be still as he felt the man tense even more beside him. Two seats down, Young clenched his teeth as he watched his boss face Red.

As Red looked at Anton calmly, the smile never left his features. "Well that may be. But I daresay the person who is about to collect my head will not be too impressed if the lights aren't still on."

Anton stepped closer to Red. "You are correct. As much as it pains me and I'd like nothing better than to wipe that smile off your face permanently, I cannot exact justice on your miserable existence," he told Red through clenched teeth.

"However, I don't have any such reservations regarding your companion. He is quite expendable." And taking the gun off Red he immediately aimed it at Dembe, zeroing it in on the man's forehead.

###

Climbing to his feet Ressler pulled Liz up with him before leading her back to the blankets. Rearranging them, she sat against the wall now with the tarp still around her and the blankets inside it.

"Are you taking the sled?" she asked and he shook his head. His best option was to travel light. He'd briefly considered lightening the load in it and taking it, but instead wrapped two blankets around him, then took one of the remaining large FBI jump suits and climbed into it, full dressed under it. It was bulky but it would enable him to carry blankets, and had additional pockets that he could stow the few things he'd need. Including half the remaining pain pills.

She watched him from under the blankets as she sat on the floor, and managed to smile at him. She didn't want him to leave. But he'd made up his mind so she was going to at least try and make light of it. "You look like you're going out for a spacewalk."

"Feels like it too…" he admitted, working on his face coverings now. They had plenty to spare, and he covered his face with two sets of face coverings, before tossing her four strips to do the same with.

"Houston, we have a problem…" she said quietly, thinking of the worst case scenarios out there for him.

He smiled. "How about 'Houston, the Eagle has landed.' I think that's a better outcome," he told her watching as she leaned her head back against the wall and managed to roll her eyes at him.

"So I'll head south and follow the power lines and stick to the road as best I can. There won't be any traffic in two feet of snow, but there has to be a house or something out there before I reach that town," he told her, trying to make it sound like it was a piece of cake. Both of them saw right through that though.

"I've put your cup over there and you'll need to keep filling it with snow and holding it against you to melt so you have water. Make sure you do that, Liz," he told her.

She nodded, looking briefly at the cup near her. "I will…and you too…"

He patted one of his pockets where he'd stowed his cup. He was ready. And knowing he needed to use as much daylight as he could, there was no sense prolonging it. She stood up unsteadily in the blankets and came to stand by him. "I'm sorry…" she told him, frustrated at herself that he was right that she wasn't strong enough to travel any longer. And sorry that he had to face it all alone out there.

"Don't be," he shook his head at her, seeing the tears pooling in her eyes.

She nodded, and slipped her arms around him now and hugged him to her. And leaning down he touched the top of her head through his face coverings. As she pulled back from him, he held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes.

"Don't cry. You'll freeze your eyeballs," he told her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

She smiled at his attempt at humor, appreciating it. "Right," she told him, wiping the tears away.

He nodded to her, then released her and went to the door. "I don't know how long it will take. But hang in there, Liz," he told her. Holding her eyes a moment longer, he hesitated longer than he had intended as their eyes locked. And before he could change his mind, he opened the door and slipped outside into the frigid morning air.

As he walked past the dirty window she watched him leave as he made his way around the building. "You had better make it, my broken Boy Scout…" she whispered out loud in the room. And resisting the urge to run after him and beg him not to go out there alone, she unsteadily made her way back to the blankets and sunk down into them, dissolving in tears.

###

"Anton, is this really the wisest of choices for you to make?" Red asked the man as he held the gun to Dembe's forehead.

"I don't need him," Anton told Red, screwing up his nose in distaste as he looked at Dembe.

"But the person you're taking us to might," said Red calmly. "And while I daresay he might be okay with you only delivering one person instead of two, do you really want to take that risk?"

"He's right, boss. Besides, do we really want to go firing weapons inside a helicopter?" Young's voice from behind Anton surprised all of them.

Red quickly looked at Young as he spoke. And sitting back further in the seat he smiled imperceptibly. Déjà vu reared its head at a similar conversation in their ill-fated jet. The man was a quick study.

Anton turned his head slightly to his wayward employee. "You're out of line." But as Young shrugged and sat back down, Anton suddenly sighed and took the gun off Dembe.

He looked at Red. "Next time we may not be in mid-air."

As Anton looked back to find his seat, Red looked straight at Young and gave him a nod. From across the aisle, Young looked silently at Dembe then to Red, and then gave a tiny return nod of his own.

Red smiled. Yes, things were coming along nicely.

###

As the sun rose higher in the sky, it shone through the overcast sky just as Ressler reached the exit slope of the quarry. Bypassing the remaining sled, he looked up at the slope then began to walk up the incline. As he rose slowly above the quarry, plowing through the deep snow, his eyes landed on the building. There was no point second guessing his decision now.

"Just keep going…" he told himself, unable to drag his eyes off the dilapidated wooden structure. Now level with the conveyor belts as he slowly made his way upward, his attention was now drawn to the hole they'd fallen through. Shuddering at the thought, he dragged his eyes off it, landing back on the building. The building that Liz was in.

As he walked, his head slowly came level with the ground above the quarry. And a few steps later he reached the top of the snowy exit slope and stepped onto the ground above. He was out the quarry. And as if to celebrate that fact, the sun broke through the clouds, bathing the quarry in bright sunlight. As the snow lit up beneath him and the conveyor belts gleamed in the sudden brightness, he saw movement by the building.

It was Liz. Wrapped in her blankets, she had made her way around the building.

"Get back in the…warm…" he whispered to himself, knowing it wasn't warm in the building, but at least she had the blankets.

That's what the practical side of him said. But the other side of him smiled under his face coverings and raised his left arm from the elbow, meeting her wave. He heard her voice carrying up to him now.

"I'll be waiting for you!"

And unable to shout that far with his wrecked voice, he simply nodded enough so that she'd see. And with a final wave, she turned and left his sight as she went toward the front of the building, leaning against it for support.

He turned and made his way toward the small row of power lines that led back up to the main road, still hearing her voice in his head. He pondered what she'd said.

And as he trudged through the snow, head down, he realized he wasn't the only one who veiled their words in double meanings.