Ressler, Listen to Me

Part 5

Author's Note: We're continuing down this path for a little longer. I am honestly thinking there's a better title to this story like: The criminal, his bodyguard, their kidnap victim, his criminal lover, and her daughter. Just a thought.

The song referenced is A Foggy Day by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald.

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ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"Negative," Liz said as she emerged from the washroom holding up a pregnancy test two mornings later. Don had been anxiously pacing outside the door.

"Thank god," Don said as he let out a breath.

"Let's not take any chances like that," Liz said as she hugged Don.

Just then the door to the apartment opened and Agnes ran inside followed by Reddington and Dembe,

"Mommy!" Agnes called as she ran to her mother and Liz dropped the test on a side table and picked up Agnes and hugged her tight.

"Agnes, I missed you!" Liz said before she pointedly looked at Don and then the test and walked away with Agnes.

Don picked up the stick and was pocketing it when he looked up to see Reddington looking at him curiously.

"Will there be diapers on the shopping list in 9 months Donald?" Reddington asked him, clearly spotting the test before it went in Don's pocket.

"Uh, no," Don stammered.

"Let's make sure we aren't adding diapers onto any shopping list in the coming months, shall we?" Reddington asked as he laid his hat on the sofa table.

"I don't expect to be here for months," Don said, annoyed.

"We'll see," Reddington said dismissively. "I haven't been here in…I want to say 6 years?"

"Seven," Said Dembe.

"Seven, really?" Reddington asked as he turned to look at his companion and friend.

"If you own this place, can't Townsend track us here?" Don asked the older man.

"Nothing I own is in my name," Reddington laughed. "And this isn't one of my choice destinations, Graz is such a small mountain town. Culturally amazing, but once you have been to the Uhrturn or the Riegersburg, or the Opernhaus, really…"

Don looked at him confused.

"The clock tower," Reddington said as he walked toward a window in the living room and looked out pointing to it for Don.

"Yeah, I noticed that, nice view," Don said with a smirk. He had to admit that Graz was a strikingly beautiful historic town.

"And the Kunsthaus on this side," Reddington said as he walked across the apartment, past the kitchen where Liz and Agnes were talking and into a bedroom on the other side of the place and pointed to another structure as Don followed behind him. "The Museum of Contemporary Art next to the Mur river."

Don nodded. "I don't intend to stay long enough to take in the sites."

Reddington turned and looked at Donald, assessing him.

"Donald, you are your own man, always have been," Reddington said, and Don nodded. "But right now, it's about all of us, and once the Townsend situation is resolved then you can make whatever choices you want. Until then, no calls to our friends at the FBI or any other US agency, no leaving, no going rogue, no trying to fix this a different way. We are on a path together and we need to see this path until the end. Then you can choose your own path. One, I think Lizzie hopes includes her and Agnes, but I will leave that to you."

"Are they going to live in hiding the rest of their lives, dependent on you?" Don asked, his voice having some edge.

"No, Donald," Reddington said as he met the younger man's eyes.

"Good," Don nodded and went to leave the room but was stopped by the older man's words.

"I know you love her," Reddington said. "I see it in everything you do, how you worry about her, protect her, speak with her, try and save her…"

Don looked at him with a pained expression.

"She's never going to be the woman she was, Donald," Reddington said with some sadness. "But hopefully, you can learn to love and appreciate the new Elizabeth that has emerged, because she is a force to be reckoned with, and a woman I think you could love."

Don continued to walk out of the room, not responding to Reddington's words. When they got here yesterday, he was struck by the smallness of the apartment. It was three bedrooms but for four adults and a child it was tight. He realized there would be no privacy, no getting away from Reddington, Dembe or Liz. He couldn't isolate himself in a wing of an estate and ride out this kidnapping until the end. He would be in close quarters with all of them for some time.

Reddington and Dembe were to share the largest bedroom with two king beds in it that Don had just left. It was, by far the most private, and fitting for the oldest man in the house who didn't need to hear people in the living room late or early. His room was the one next to the patio, small, and right next to the living room area with not much room in it besides for a double bed and closet. The washroom served as a buffer between his room and Agnes and Liz's which was closer to the front door and had two single beds in it and was larger than Don's, with room for a chair, dresser, and closet. The apartment had a generous living area with a sofa, chairs, card table, TV, and shelves of books. The kitchen was smaller, but functional with a table and chairs in it that squeezed in six. The last area was the balcony, which was more like a fourth-floor patio with table and chairs as well as some shrubbery. Truly, it was a beautiful apartment, for a small family, two or three roommates, or a couple. Not as big as it needed to be for the criminal, his bodyguard, their kidnap victim, his criminal lover, and her daughter.

Ressler walked back toward his room, passing Liz speaking animatedly with Agnes and sharing a smile with her along the way. The pregnancy test was burning a whole in his pant pocket right now and he needed to throw it away. He got to the washroom and pulled it out of his pocket, looking at the negative result and thinking of the last time he looked at a pregnancy test seven years ago and the positive result on it.

If Audrey had lived, they would have had a six-year-old, a child just a year older than Agnes, and the likelihood that he would be here would be almost non-existent. He and Liz would have been partners and friends, but nothing would have happened between them; Don had always been excellent at monogamous relationships, he had never been a cheater. When things started to go sideways for her, he would have come home at night to talk with Audrey about it, about his worries for Liz. Would he have pursued her to try and save her like he had? Unlikely. Would he have risked his life for her time and time again knowing he had a wife and child at home that he needed to go home to? Never. Would he have even stayed on the task force? Possibly not.

But that future had not happened for him, he had no child, no wife, no home that drew him away from Liz. What he had was her. She was the centre of much of his universe these past years. How many times had he asked himself, sometimes several times a day, was she safe? Was she ok? What was she doing? What did she feel for him? Did she even think of him? Should he be thinking of her? Did she know how much he loved her? Did she care? Was she having a mental breakdown? Was she on the wrong path? Could he save her? Did she want to be saved? Was this the path he needed to be on? Should he walk away? What was going on in her head?

Don threw the test in the trash, there was no point hiding it from anyone now, and walked out onto the patio to be alone as Red and Dembe unpacked and Liz caught up with Agnes.

He leaned heavily on the railing and sighed. How different his life was than how it could have been.

"Beautiful view," Dembe said as he walked up beside him.

"It is," Don nodded.

Dembe leaned against the rail next to him.

"Ressler, I am sorry you are in this predicament," Dembe said honestly.

Don nodded.

"I know that Liz trusts you to not put anyone here in jeopardy, and I want to trust that, but the stakes are too high," Dembe said.

Don turned and looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"If you need to leave for any reason, I will go with you, unless Liz is with you," Dembe said. "And, even then, I may also come."

Don turned to face the man more fully. He was not expecting this.

"I know that seems like an insult to your character," Dembe said as he met Don's eyes. "And I apologize for that."

Don shook his head he couldn't believe this.

"But Townsend is the most dangerous adversary we have had yet. Raymond and Liz care for you too much to say this," Dembe said. "But you are still a wild card and I prefer my hand neat."

Don turned and looked back toward the clock tower. He was slightly insulted. But he also knew the man was right, he hadn't fully resigned himself to being a good little kidnap victim. Dembe saw that in him, whereas Liz and Reddington were blind to that.

"Fine," Don said.

Dembe stood and patted him on the arm before he left the patio.

Don listened to the sounds of the street below. The people walking to work or the market or possibly an early lunch. He turned and saw through the kitchen window Liz smiling at Agnes and listening to whatever story Agnes was sharing intently. He looked into the living room and saw Reddington pull a record album off the shelf and say something to Dembe in the other room before he placed it on the record player and music started to waft out the sliding door and windows that were open. It was Louis Armstrong singing:

"I was a stranger in the city
Out of town were the people I knew
I had that feeling of self-pity
What to do, what to do, what to do?
The outlook was decidedly blue"

Don chuckled, it was as if Reddington was reading his mind and specifically chosen that song, but he knew the man had probably just wanted to hear the album and this had been the first song on it. The irony. However Don got here, he was here. And he needed to just deal with that for the next few weeks. There was nothing ideal about this, but few things in anyone's life were ideal.

Don pushed off the railing and walked inside toward the kitchen. He smiled at Liz and Agnes.

"How do we feel about crepes for lunch?" Don asked them.

Liz's face burst into a smile and Agnes looked at him confused.

"Like very delicious thin pancakes, baby girl," Liz said as she pulled her onto her lap. "Maybe we can help?"

"I will always take help," Don smiled at them. "Do you want to crack some eggs, Agnes?"

Agnes nodded and then hopped off her mom's lap.

Don reached into the small fridge and pulled out eggs, milk and berries and sat them on the counter, he then grabbed the flour, mixing bowls, a whisk, and some measuring cups.

"Okay, ready?" Don asked.

Liz and Agnes nodded, and Don smiled, there were worse kidnapping situations he could be in.

To be continued…