A/N Ok so this is the final chapter of World on Fire – this was my first and longest fic and I have so enjoyed writing it. The reviews and support I have received have made playing with these characters incredibly rewarding, for which I thank you from the bottom of my little shipper heart. My new fic, Sin, is now on the go. It's smangsty delight. Disclaimed, as ever.
World was on fire, no one could save me but you (Chris Isaak, Wicked Game)
As Red listened to her his mind fogged. Those desolate months without her had confirmed for him what he had long feared– that there was no love, no redemption waiting for him, only his pain, and the pain he would inflict on others until he died wretched and alone. And yet here she was, in front of him once again in a sunlit park like an angel reaching into the darkest pit of hell to drag him out. For a long moment he couldn't move, and he watched as she stiffened at his lack of response, removing her hand from her face to rub her scar, her eyes cast down. When she finally made to stand up he reached out and grabbed her hand.
She looked at him then with watery eyes, questioning, waiting. He shook his head and spoke slowly, his lip trembling. "In a thousand lifetimes I could never, never hate you. That you thought me capable of that pains me beyond anything. The…hatred I bear is for myself alone. Lizzie, there is no pain more exquisite than knowing that your very existence jeopardizes the life of the one you love." He paused and covered their clasped fingers with his hand, as if sealing them together.
When he spoke again his green eyes were liquid, vulnerable and exposed, and, for the first time, she felt that he was allowing her access to a complete truth. "For twenty seven years, in my darkest hours, the knowledge that you were alive in the world has sustained me. And painful as they may have been, these past two years with the FBI were an incredible gift– to see the extraordinary woman you have become, to love you, to make love to you. More than I ever hoped for…or deserved."
Flooded with relief she leant forward and pressed the softest kiss into his cheek before resting her head on his chest. After a moment she felt strong arms close around her, and his smell was like the most blessed home coming. He kissed the top of her head and held her firmly against him before quickly releasing her again, making her frown.
He gave her a sad smile. "Knowing that you will be living your life freely, raising a child of mine, will sustain me to the end of my days."
She looked at him warily, trying to grasp the implications of what he had said. "I don't understand… you're not going to be with me? With us?"
He bit the inside of his cheek, his expression pained. "If recent events have proven anything, it's that I am first and foremost a danger to you…to you and our son. However much I want to be there it would be selfish and ultimately futile to think that you'd be safe while I was in your life. Lizzie the arrangements have already been made. You're going to be just fine."
As she listened a wave of panic and tears began to flutter in her chest. She shook her head vigorously. "No, no… we won't be fine Ray, not if we don't have you. I thought I could do that but I can't, I can't…"
He took her hand gently. "You can Lizzie. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever known. Your instincts in leaving were right – follow them now. I know you are going to be an exceptional mother."
Liz looked down as the tears dripped from her chin and left little dark spots on her dress. Then she turned to study at his face. Although he was looking at her kindly, every line seemed to have deepened; not laugh lines, but fissures which spoke of deep and protracted suffering. She steeled herself. He was right – she was strong. Strong enough for the three of them. "Tell me…" she said quietly. "If you really do want us, tell me what is so terrible, and so dangerous that I can't be with the man I love. That our child won't know his father. You said you'd shut down your criminal enterprises."
He sighed. "Yes. And in doing so I can protect you from new threats. But the past… Lizzie the past has a way of catching up. In order to survive with me you would need to know the truth, and it would change who you are irrevocably…you would always be looking over your shoulder. Sweetheart I have nothing left other than to shield you from the past and the future it would dictate for you."
Liz nodded slowly. "The past… you mean Ryzhanov? The people he worked for? The fire…" She watched as his eyes sharpened.
"Yes."
She took a deep breath. "Then I have something to tell you. I remember everything." She watched him intently; his expression was broadly unchanged, but his eyes grew apprehensive, or perhaps even fearful.
"Remember what?"
"The night of the fire. I know what happened. And I understand why you didn't want me to find out." He looked utterly stricken, and for a moment she almost wished she'd kept it from him. But they'd done enough of that. "When I shot Ryzhanov, it came back to me. They were arguing in Russian and it was like I was there. He was hurting my mother. I know why my father died that night. I shot him. And you blocked my memory – not to protect yourself. To protect me."
She watched as the blood drained from his face. He was devastated. After a moment he nodded and swallowed hard. "Yeah."
"You've always protected me."
He closed his eyes. "I tried. But I failed."
She put her hand on his cheek and he looked at her apprehensively. She was smiling. "No Ray, you didn't. I'm here." She put her hand on her stomach. "We're here. What happens next is up to you."
"Lizzie-"
She cut him off. "Before you decide, you have to realize that I'm already not the person I was. I know what happened that night. I know that Ryzhanov worked with my parents. That his organisation want to use me – Masha. I know that although he's dead, it's bigger than him. I'm ready for whatever may come. But you can't honestly tell me, knowing what I know, that we'd be safer without you."
He shook his head bleakly. "I never wanted this life for you. I never wanted you to be like me."
"And I never wanted to live a half-life, full of half-truths, or a faux marriage" she said firmly. "I want you, and our child, and to live as equals. We deal with whatever comes together. That's the life I choose. You once told me that if anyone could give you a second chance it's me. Let me do that Ray."
As she spoke his expression softened into something close to wonder. He couldn't deny it; much as he hated that she had to bear the truth, it changed everything. Here she was, asking him to treat her as an equal. In time, time spent together, she would doubtless come to understand that he could never hope to be her equal. But if she would allow him, he could spend every day in pursuit of a more noble goal: her happiness and the redemptive possibilities inherent in such an endeavor.
He looked at her, searching her face, her jaw set firm and blue eyes glittering, then tentatively placed his hand over hers where it lay on her stomach. "Let's go home Lizzie."
She smiled at him then, and it was glorious. "Where's home this week?"
He paused. "My home. I keep a small personal apartment in Bethesda."
For a moment she looked confused. "You have an apartment? Why didn't you take me there before?"
He sighed as he smiled at her. "Because it's where I keep the last of my secrets, Lizzie. And we'll have no more secrets now."
Epilogue: 6 months later.
Red watched from the doorway of the nursery in their secluded house as she kissed their infant son and placed him carefully in his cot. Sam. She had chosen the name, and although it was difficult at first, it felt right that his son should be named after one of the best men he had ever known, a man who'd had such a profoundly positive influence on both his and Lizzie's lives. Most of all, it was the greatest pleasure imaginable to see her so happy. After her ordeal in Russia she had been content to stay at home with their son, and he had treasured every moment. However, he knew she would grow restless and when the time came they would talk about their next move.
After her safe return, Cooper had brokered a deal which permitted them to live in private, and in peace. The FBI had made her a standing offer of employment, but they both knew that those days were gone. She was no longer an upstanding agent of the law, just as he was no longer the notorious criminal he once was. Forged together in a fire that had sent their lives hurtling on such different paths, they had managed painfully, but exquisitely to carve out a world in which they could both thrive.
Entering the nursery he walked up beside her and slipped his arm around her waist, looking down at the perfect child that they had created who was sleeping soundly. That he could have missed this was unthinkable.
"Someone's tired" he said, chuckling.
She twisted round to kiss him and he slid his hand into her hair, holding her close. She broke away, smiling wryly. "That could be because his father kept him awake, bouncing him around and telling wild tales…"
"I see. And what about his mother – is she tired too?" He smirked, pulling her in for another kiss, his hand snaking up to gently cup her breast.
Liz gasped as his fingers grazed her nipple. "I think she's starting to wake up…"
"Wonderful" he breathed into her ear. He kissed her forehead and then bent down to do the same to his son, before leading her away to the bedroom.
He undressed her slowly, almost reverently, marveling as he had many times at her post-pregnancy body. She had been shy of showing herself to him at first, aware of the profound changes to her lean frame since the first time they were together. To him she had ripened like a peach, and he delighted in telling her so, in testing the new weight of her breasts and exploring the roundness of her hips. Now as he laid her down on their bed he placed gentle kisses on her face and neck, his hand exploring her luscious curves before settling at the point between her waist and her hip, gently stroking the valley there.
He looked down at her, his eyes suddenly serious. "You are breath-taking. Absolutely perfect my love."
"And you are still fully clothed – not fair!"
He smiled mischievously. "Oh sweetheart I've never played fair. It's far too delicious having you lying here helpless for me to have my wicked way-"
She reached for his tie and pulled him down into a deep kiss, before unknotting the silk, and removing his vest, followed by his shirt and undershirt and finally his suit pants and boxers. She peeled off layer upon layer until she reached the scarred, vulnerable man who lay beneath, the man who loved her unconditionally, perfectly and eternally.
He was revealed to her now the way he had been that day six months prior when he had taken her to the apartment in Bethesda. His hands shook with apprehension as he ushered her inside, knowing what she would see, that what remained of his secrets would be exposed, that he no longer had any control. He had never expected her to stay after she had seen what was there. Not after he had provided the devastating answers to her unrelenting questions and listened to her heart break for the little girl she once was. But, she told him later, where he saw only horror, she also saw love. It was the kind of love that, when the whole world has burned to the ground, is the only thing that remains – a ray of light in the darkness in which a future might be possible.
Fin.