He groaned as he rolled over, reaching at the nightstand and slamming his hand to end the merciless beeping of his alarm. He turned back and slung his arm over her, burying his face into her hair and reveling in the smell of jasmine that he had gotten so used to. He sought warmth in the cold gloom of the early morning, taking her hand in his.
"Jesus, babe you're freezing." He muttered into her ear. He rubbed her hand with his, bringing it up to his mouth and exhaling warmth. "Better?" He whispered.
He eased his hand on her stomach, placing a kiss on her neck, but she didn't respond.
"Hey, come on, time to get up." He said softly, rubbing her arm.
Again she didn't respond, and when he placed his hand back on her stomach for a few seconds, it didn't rise.
"Audrey?" He sat up and gently turned her over.
His eyes widened and his breath halted at the sight of her. She wore no expression, her lips parted slightly as her eyes, pale and white, blankly stared back at him without a soul behind them.
Ressler woke with a sharp inhale and jolted, sending the book that had been resting on his leg thumping onto the wooden floor. He sighed as his breathing calmed, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. He picked up the book and set it on the nightstand. Looking out of the window, he noticed that the sun was up and morning had come quick.
He should be used to it by now. It only made sense that the start of each day matched the beginning of this lonely life he lives. Yet, he still woke up with his heart racing and his breath heavy. The only surprise he's had in a while was laying on his bed, sleeping soundly. He rubbed his hands to warm them and gently reached over to the woman's neck. Her pulse was back to a normal rate and her breathing was strong and healthy. His hands were warmed by the crook of her neck and he sighed in relief as he realized that her temperature was back to normal. After seeing a few beads of sweat on her forehead, he pulled the hood of the coat down and removed two layers of blankets so that she wouldn't be too warm.
He put the kettle on and lit a fire in the fireplace. Sitting at the table, he contemplated on what he would do once she woke up. He looked over the woman, who seemed at peace and realized she was almost naked. Knowing that her clothes would be damp and cold, he went to his wardrobe and pulled out socks, sweatpants, and a sweater; the smallest he could find. He placed them on the chair beside the bed and was about to walk through the door when a glint caught his eye.
Hanging off the hem of her pants was a badge, the sunlight bouncing off its pristine metal.
Shit. She's a fed?
He turned to her and saw her still sleeping soundly. He quietly made his way to the coat that hung on the bedpost and searched the pockets. He found an ID card showing that she was an FBI agent.
Elizabeth Keen..son of a bitch.
He placed it back inside the coat and realized that he didn't find a gun or any type of weapon on her. Steadily, he made his way outside where he found her and rooted around in the snow until he spotted it. Her gun. He shook his head in disappointment and realized that this was a problem.
The minute she wakes up, she's going to try to bring me in.
He sighed and shoved the gun behind his back into his jeans. The whistling of the kettle brought his attention back inside and he slipped in, away from the cold. Inside, he poured the hot water into a mug and steeped some tea in it, adding a bit of sugar.
Maybe she won't recognize me..
He began making himself some coffee when movement caught his eye. A bird had perched on the windowsill outside. His eyes grew wide as he stared at it, hopping along the glass and flitting its head as it saw him. He nearly dropped his coffee as he quickly rushed outside and looked around the clearing.
Movement. He could actually see things moving nearby. In the trees, the bushes; could hear the birds chirping nearby, and woodland critters moving around. It shocked him. Not only was it a ridiculously cold winter, but also because he hadn't seen much life for almost a year. He stepped forward to see the animals. Then, as quickly as his heart filled with hope, it broke. A bird crashed into the snow a few feet ahead of him. Followed by two more. Seeing this made him grit his teeth, his eyes closed. He clenched his hands into fists and he shook his head. He felt like an idiot. That he could believe there was an end to this. That he had the slightest bit of hope that things would change. He sighed in disappointment then turned to walk towards the cabin, but stopped in his tracks.
If this thing came back on, she'll die when I get close.
He was angry and ashamed. Pissed that he had gotten a taste of having life around him only to have it immediately ripped away.
Fuck.
Her hands stung from the bitter, icy cold of the freezing squall. Her entire body ached and she wonder how it was possible that she was still clinging onto consciousness. Nevertheless, she persisted, dragging her bruised and beaten body out of the wrecked SUV. She trudged in the snow against the roaring blizzard. She limped and dragged her leg, though she could feel her nerves freezing, her pain becoming numb. She didn't know whether to see this as a good thing or a bad thing. She heard a car behind her squeal to a stop, and she tightened her ripped coat around her, trying to move faster. Heading for the nearby woods, she grit her teeth through the cold and tried to double her pace when she heard the man's voice behind her call out to her.
"Come on! You're never going to make it out in this, sweetheart! Just let me take us back to the house!" the man's gruff voice teased.
If it wasn't so cold, she would've felt her skin crawl at the sound of his voice. Michael Richardson. A man who'd spent years involved in drugs, human trafficking, arms trade, and whatever crime one could think of. Liz had somehow gotten away after being held in his basement and she had no plans of going back. She turned her head and couldn't see him, but knew he wasn't far behind. Using the trees and the blizzard to her advantage, she eluded him. The showering snow covered her tracks and obscured her figure and the darkness falling with the night boosted her advantage. Through all of this however, the man still seemed to know which direction she limped, judging from the beam of light coming from his flashlight.
As she marched through the snow, she lost her footing and found herself rolling down a steep hill and into a furrow in the ground covered by a fallen tree. Liz gasped, feeling her head throbbing from the fall. Her arms and legs were weak and bruised, and she found it hard to breathe after her back and her chest hit the ground repeatedly. Banged up and scratched, she groaned in pain as she forced herself to sit up. She then saw the light flashing above her and coming over the hill. She quickly took shelter, hiding under the snowy branches of the tree and positioning herself as low and as deep into the hole as possible. She tried to still her breathing, shivering as she could feel the cold seeping deeper into her bones.
Liz watched the beam of light swing across the obscurity. Moments later, she could just make out the sound of crunching snow being carefully sifted. She stilled herself as well as she could, praying that he wouldn't find her. Then she lost sight of the light. The crunching snow was walking away from her, further into the woods. She slowly peeked out of the trench, searching for the light as the snow continued to fall heavily. She saw the man's tall figure, searching for her within the trees. She considered backpedaling and heading back towards the road, but remembered that she hadn't seen anything for miles before she crashed. Liz decided to follow the man and wait for a chance to take his keys, knowing it was her only chance of surviving the snowstorm. She pulled herself out of the hole with great effort. Her muscles flared in pain, the cold momentarily gone and replaced by the marks of her accident. She gave herself a moment to recover and followed the man as he walked through the woods. She snuck behind tree after tree, keeping herself hidden as he spoke out to her.
"You know, I can just leave - let you freeze out here!"
She clenched her jaw in disgust, glaring at the man's back.
"But no! Because I am a kind and loving person!"
She listened to him shouting while she dug through the snow for a weapon. A rock, a stick, anything she could use against him, though she knew she was in no condition to fight. The man brandished her gun in the air as he yelled and strolled. He didn't seem affected by the cold at all.
"So just come back and I promise I'll be gentle." He said deviously. "Hell, I'll even let you choose how I kill-"
Liz watched in shock as he suddenly dropped to the ground, his body plunging itself into a thick layer of snow.
What the hell..?
She waited a few moments, watching his fallen figure as snow began to cover it. When he didn't move, she moved closer and closer until she was only a few feet away. She grabbed her gun and his flashlight and strained herself in flipping over his body then almost gasped at his face. Covered in a dusting of snow, he had a blank look on his face; his eyes were white and she could tell that there was no light behind them.
He's...dead?
She didn't know how to even start trying to figure it out. She did know that if she didn't do something soon, she'd be joining him. She decided to just come back for him and explain herself to the team later. She shoved the gun in her holster and looked at the man. Confused, but eventually finding some sense, she patted his pockets, trying to feel desperately for the keys, but couldn't find them. Liz grunted in frustration.
He must've left them in the car.
The darkness and the blizzard had gotten her turned around and lost. She doubted she would make it up that hill in her condition. She looked around anxiously until she saw something - a piece of wood nailed to a tree.
She walked towards it and wiped away the snow and frost.
'TURN AROUND! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT!'
Is that how he died? I didn't hear a gunshot. And there was no blood.
She looked over at the corpse then back at the sign.
Screw it. I'd rather be shot in the head than freeze to death.
She walked on, limping and slowly succumbing to the effects of the cold and the injuries. The adrenaline that had gotten her this far was waning, and she didn't know how much longer she could go on. Just as she was about to give up and lay down, she saw it. A small, flickering light, emanating from between the trees. Liz followed the light, knowing it was her only chance at survival. She could feel herself getting slower. Her legs getting weaker, and her eyes getting heavier. She had stopped shivering and every sound she heard echoed sharply in her ears. She could feel her head slightly swaying, each movement feeling as though it was in slow-motion. Then, as her sight grew blurry and her head throbbed, she saw what seemed to be - what she hoped to be - a cabin, the light of a fire flickering through a window. Just before she could reach it, however, her legs gave away and the cold darkness surrounded and consumed her.
Her eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times to adjust to the bright, morning sun illuminating the snow outside. She looked up at a wooden ceiling, the sound of a fire crackling somewhere beside her. She took a deep breath and grimaced at the soreness that spread throughout her body. She then realized that it was probably a good thing that she could feel anything. She looked down at the layers of blankets swaddling her, thankful for the warmth they brought her. Liz sat up, pushing the coat and the blankets off of her and was immediately assaulted by the cold. She realized she was in her underwear. She looked around in anger, but saw her clothes hanging above the sink. She then noticed the clothes neatly folded on the chair beside her and the steaming mug on the nightstand.
She stretched the soreness out as best she could and promptly slipped into the clothes. She rolled the hem of the sweats and tucked the sweater into it, feeling swallowed by the large clothes. She put the socks on and quickly put the coat back on, rubbing her arms to recover from the renewed cold. She assumed that she probably looked ridiculous.
Liz reached over and took a grateful sip of the tea that had been left by the bed. She sighed contentedly as the warmth spread throughout her body, grateful of how thoughtful whoever had saved her was. She looked around at the cabin, taking in how small it was, but it was cozy. Well-kept and clean; functional and conceivably enjoyable as a vacation setting.
She slipped on her boots and got up. She then looked out the window, seeing nothing but snow and the trees. She walked outside, bracing herself for the cold. In the clearing, she saw a man facing towards the woods, a hand on his hip and another over his face as his head bowed. He seemed to have been in a deep moment of contemplation; his blond hair, combed cleanly, had a few wisps swaying in the wind. Liz drew closer to him.
"Hello?" She approached.
The man quickly turned around and seemed to gawk at her. His blue eyes were wide with what looked like shock and his jaw, framed by short, ginger scruff, hung slack.
Liz took another step closer. "Were you the one who brought me inside?"
She watched him take a step back from her, his eyes still showing surprise. He looked around and his attention caught a bird that flew nearby and into the trees. He stared for a few moments at where it went then back at her. Liz felt a little confused by how apprehensive he was acting, but there was no one else around.
"Are..you alright?" She asked.
The man cleared his throat and seemed to shake off his anxiety. "Uh..yeah..yeah that was me. Are you feeling better?"
She nodded, "A few bumps and bruises but nothing too bad."
He nodded in return, "Great."
She watched him, still a bit thrown off at how confused he seemed. She hoped he wasn't some backwoods creep who saved her just to do weird things to her.
"Do you mind if we talk inside?" She asked, jerking a thumb behind her towards the cabin. "It's pretty cold out here."
He turned back to the trees then back at her. He nodded and gestured for her to walk back first. Liz turned around and walked towards the cabin, hearing him step hesitantly through the snow. She went all the way inside and sat on the chair by the bed, reaching for the tea that she had left and sipping it. His boots thumped softly on the wooden floors as he grabbed a steaming mug from the counter and sat at the table to face her. He gave her a quick grin, but it faded back as his eyes seemed to be lost in thought.
"What's your name?" Liz asked.
Again, he hesitated, looking down for a few short moments until his cerulean eyes regarded her again.
"Liam."
"Liam... Thank you for saving my life, by the way. I'm sure I would've been a popsicle if you hadn't come along." She said gratefully.
"It's no problem." He said with a gentle smile. "You're sure you're okay? I didn't really get a good look at you - I just wanted to get you warm."
Liz felt herself flush slightly at the concern in his tone, as well as the thought of him seeing her body. She shook her head and he seemed to relax a bit at that.
"How did you end up here?" He asked.
Liz contemplated on telling him about the suspect that was chasing her, but decided against it. "I had an accident. Crashed on the road. I figured I couldn't make it to anywhere else nearby in the cold, so I went into the woods. I saw the signs and just..wound up here. Thanks for not shooting me, by the way."
"You were unconscious. Didn't seem like much of a threat." He shrugged.
"Do you have a phone I can use?" She asked.
He pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, sorry."
Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Do you have a car or a radio?"
Again, he shook his head.
"No connections to the outside world, huh?" She smirked. "You running from something?" She joked.
He chuckled with a grin. "Just more peaceful out here."
"Seems like it." She sighed. "But I can't stay here."
"Not fond of the outdoors?"
"I don't have much time for a vacation right now." She said.
She stared at him as he nodded, looking at his drink. Now that they sat closer, she could see his features more clearly. He had a strong jaw accentuated by his beard, but seemed to wear a permanent scowl judging by the lines on his forehead. There was something about his face that was odd to her. His eyes seemed to pierce right through her every time he looked into her own, though they were often soft when he looked at her. They were deep blue hues that felt both unrecognizable and familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere, but the recollection escaped her.
"Look," she sighed. "I'm sure you saw my badge. My name is Elizabeth Keen. I'm with the FBI, and I can't just stay here sipping tea in front of a fire with someone I just met. Can you at least...tell me how to get to the nearest town or wherever I can make a call?"
He seemed a bit shocked by her words.
Did he expect me to stay here?
After a moment of thinking, he nodded. "The nearest town is about ten miles west of here. It's easy enough to find if you follow the road back, but to do that, you gotta get around and over a ridge. I'm sure you must've passed it if you saw my sign?"
She nodded.
His brows raised. "Glad you made the fall then. Guess all the snow made it more of a hill than a drop."
"It was more of a roll than a drop."
He gave her a half smile and chuckled.
She continued cautiously. "Well...I'm sure you know these woods like the back of your hand. If it's not too much to ask-"
He held up a hand and interrupted her. "Look, I really want to help, but it's best if I stay here."
It was her turn to look at him with shock. After all the amenities he afforded her, she half expected him to offer to guide her back himself.
"Just head west of this cabin - there's a path you'll see just beyond the clearing. Follow it for about two miles and you'll see the ridge turn into a milder hill. From there you can head on up and find the road." He listed matter-of-factly.
"Alright then." She nodded slowly. "Thanks."
She shouldn't have thought he would go so far as to walk ten miles to guide her back. Having the directions and her life saved was already enough.
"Feel free to grab anything here before you go." He stood up, heading to his wardrobe and pulling out a duffel bag. "Be careful on that path though, it tends to-"
Suddenly, a shot rang out and the mug on the table shattered, spilling coffee all over the surface. Liz quickly dove to the ground as the wooden walls were pierced by a barrage of bullets, showering wooden splinters around the cabin. She covered her head and watched him as he did the same thing; staying low to the floor and trying to protect himself from the bullets, shards of glass, splintered wood, and the anything else that fell as objects were hit by the automatic fire.
As quickly as it began, the gunfire stopped. She watched as he crawled towards the window and she quickly followed. He leaned against the wall, gently moving the curtain aside and peeking through the corner of the window. She did the same beside him. A row of armed men positioned themselves in the trees, all aiming at the cabin. A booming voice, bolstered by a megaphone then erupted from the trees.
"We know you're in there! Come on out!"
Liz turned to the man beside her. "Where's my gun?"
He breathed heavily, his blue eyes moving back and forth from the men outside to her demanding stare.
"What?" He said, not looking like he was paying much attention to her.
The megaphone beeped and she heard the voice come through again.
"You have five seconds to come out or we burn this cabin to the ground!"
"My gun!"
"Five!"
"Where the hell is it?!" She asked more insistently.
"Four!"
All he did was stare back and search her face, his jaw clenched and his face showing how quickly his mind was moving. He looked away from the men and out the window in the back of the cabin. She figured that wasn't much of a way out as they were in a clearing and she wasn't sure how many were out there. Running wasn't an option, especially since she knew nothing about the area.
"Three!"
"Wait here." He suddenly muttered as he quickly opened the front door and moved outside.
"Two!"
Liz's jaw dropped as he faced the group with his hands in the air. "What the hell are you doing?!" She hissed.
"Wait! Don't shoot!" He yelled as he moved slowly out into the clearing.
"Give us the girl!"
Liz watched as he slowly walked towards them, his arms still raised.
"Don't shoot! Let's talk about this, alright? No need for anyone to get hurt." He said calmly, still taking steps towards the men.
Liz watched tensely from the window.
What the hell is this guy doing?! He's going to get us killed!
He made it closer to the treeline before the man spoke through the megaphone again.
"You take another step and it'll be your last. Give us the girl."
She saw him stop moving, standing before a small army of men with automatic weapons. He held a straight stance, showing no fear or tension in his frame. Then he dropped his arms and took another step.
All at once, it happened. The men that had been shooting at them all dropped to the ground, almost in unison. Liz's eyes grew as she watched the scene unfold. However, one of the men was positioned deeper in the trees, and remained standing. Upon seeing his company fall without a fight, he aimed and fired at the other man. She watched as Liam quickly took shelter behind a tree and in one swift motion, pulled her gun from behind his back and fired two successive shots into the armed goon's chest, killing him instantly.
Liz quickly sat back down with her back against the wall, her mind racing at what she just witnessed. She looked back out and saw him searching the bodies of the assailants. Then it hit her. She couldn't believe that she didn't realize it sooner. The dead bodies, the white eyes.
He's that terrorist.
She quickly found it necessary to defend herself. As he was distracted, Liz found an empty whiskey bottle by the sink. She held it tightly in her hand and crouched by the door. When the door opened and he walked through, she quickly lunged at him, breaking the bottle over his head and making him stumble in pain.
"What the hell?!" He yelled as he held his head at the site of the blow.
Grabbing him by the front of his coat, she swept her leg and used his weight against him to knock him over onto his back. His eyes widened in shock as she quickly straddled him. She then punched him in the face, pulling a pained grunt from him.
"I know who you are, you terrorist!" She yelled in anger.
As she reared her fist back for another blow, he brought up his arm and blocked it. He then used his superior strength to roll her off of him and quickly held her to the floor, pinning her arms by her head as he kept her from moving.
"I'm not a terrorist! Just…" he grunted as she struggled against his grip. "Let me explain!"
Somehow, Liz brought up her leg and kicked him off of her. She quickly stood as he recovered and was about to charge into him with her fist when he pulled out her gun and aimed it at her.
"Stop!" He shouted, his blue eyes piercing angrily through her as he panted.
Liz stopped in her tracks, her raised fist opening and her other hand raising along with it.
"Just...let me explain." He repeated tiredly. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."
"Doesn't look that way from where I'm standing," she retorted.
He looked at her, disappointed. His chest rising and falling as his breathing slowed back down to normal. He then sighed and Liz watched in surprise as the magazine fell from the gun, thumping onto the floor. He then released the round in the chamber and sent it clattering away before throwing the gun itself at her feet.
"Please." He said, his eyes soft as they peered into hers.
He watched as her demeanor changed from one of caution to one of confusion. She looked at the gun at her feet then back at him. He sighed in relief when her glare softened, waiting for him to continue.
"You said you know me." He began. "How much do you know?"
She looked at him hesitantly, but seemed to relax and trust that he wasn't going to hurt her.
"Ten months ago, 119 people were found dead in Washington D.C., all with white eyes and no apparent cause of death." She began.
He clenched his jaw as he realized just how many people he had killed.
119...That many?
"Special Agent Donald Ressler was seen at every place with a death - security cameras, traffic cameras, eyewitnesses. Everywhere you went people died. You knew how the bureau worked so you went off the grid and you've been on the FBI's Most Wanted List ever since."
He nodded. He knew that much, but nothing else. And it didn't seem like he was going to learn anything else that he didn't already know.
"So? What's your explanation?" She said, trying to pull him from his guilty silence. "Are you gonna tell me you didn't kill all those people? You gonna tell me what I saw over there wasn't real?"
He took a deep breath and rest his hands on his hips. "All those people...the ones that died? ...That was me."
He watched as a tinge of rage flashed in her eyes, but she quickly corrected herself. She looked out the window at the bodies then back at him.
"I didn't know about it at first. I mean, I...I thought it was in the air...or...I don't know, a virus or something. I mean the birds were falling out of the goddamn sky, for fuck's sakes." He said, visibly upset at the recollection. "I didn't know about it..I mean, I didn't do it on purpose - I didn't even know I was doing it."
Liz watched, wondering how much of what he was saying could be believed. Though she doubted her instincts, she found nothing but remorse in his eyes as he stammered.
"It was like I was just sucking the life right out of them just by coming close." He continued, looking distraught as Liz stared at him with a look of both fear and distrust. "Look, I know it sounds insane, but it happened, alright? It happened; I mean, people would just walk up to me and…" he took a deep, quivering breath as his eyes tried to hold back the wave of shame and frustration that wanted to pour out.
"They'd just drop, they'd f-...they'd fucking drop." He looked at her, almost pleading her to understand as she stared back at him, her face not showing anything but suspicion. "Look, that's why you found me hiding all the way out here. I'm just trying to keep away from everybody."
"You're lying, this is crazy." She said in disbelief. "You have some kind of weapon, or device-"
"Keen, listen to me!" He yelled. "That was me. I killed those people. But...whatever it was, whatever was inside of me is gone now."
'Keen'? He's FBI, alright.
Liz shook her head slowly, ignoring her instincts of running to try and hear him out. "H-how do I know that? How do I know you won't kill me?"
He sighed and shook his head, his eyes peering into hers. "You're the first living person I've seen in almost a year. First one I've talked to. Look, whatever it is that's inside of me, it goes away when I'm with you."
"What? What do you mean?"
"I mean, nobody dies when I'm close to you."
She stayed silent for a moment, digesting the information. "And what, I'm just..supposed to believe everything you say?" She asked, still in disbelief of what she's heard, but doubting herself.
He shook his head. "No. But based on what you've seen and what you've learned from investigating me, can you honestly see me as someone capable of killing all those innocent people willingly?"
He searched her eyes pleadingly as her instinct and her logic seemed to battle in her mind. He was relieved when she seemed to relax and believe him.
"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. I wish I could help but-"
"I'm not asking you to stay here." He interjected.
Her brows raised at his interruption, looking at him expectantly to continue. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a burner phone and a set of keys, extending them to her.
"Found these on one of those guys out there. You can call the bureau or whoever to let em know what happened and get yourself out of here but please.." he begged. "Please don't tell them about this place. Don't tell them about me. If they come here looking for me, they're going to die. And even if you want to arrest me yourself, at some point they're going to separate us and a lot of people are going to die."
She looked at him and sighed. She felt for him. From what she'd read about him during the manhunt, she didn't see anything that stood out as criminal behavior. He had apparently been a model agent and was known for strictly abiding by the rules. He clearly just accepted his life as it was now and tried not to hurt anyone. To see him in this state of isolation and being hunted down was pitiful. She accepted the phone and searched his face for any sign of malice. When she found none, she found herself wanting to help him.
"No." She said.
"No?" He repeated, his shock obvious.
"You're coming with me."
"Keen, please-"
She raised her hand to interrupt. "Look, you can't stay out here. Sooner or later, whoever sent that group out there is going to send more. It's not safe here anymore and I'm sorry that I led them here." She eyed the way his jaw clenched in frustrated understanding. "But I'm not going to turn you in. You can stay with me until we figure out whatever this...connection is between us."
His cerulean eyes widened and his mouth hung open slightly. "You'd be harboring a fugitive. You could go to prison just for talking to me."
"I know." She nodded, biting her lip. "But you saved my life. It's only fair that I help you get yours back."
He looked at her, his eyes looking both relieved and stoically resolute. He gave her a nod. "Thank you."
She gave him a nod of her own. "Thank you ."
After packing clothes and supplies, Ressler led her out of the woods and found the road. They spotted several vehicles parked and hidden by the trees. They also saw the wrecked vehicle she had been in. He cringed as he thought about what she'd gone through before they met. The car didn't look like anyone who crawled out of it could be walking as confidently as she was right now.
They found a black SUV that responded to the remote on the key and promptly pulled into the road. Liz drove the car and headed for her house. She decided not to tell the task force about her situation yet, knowing that she would be called in to debrief and that she would have to bring Ressler with her. She gave him cursory glances as she drove, seeing the interest on his face as he looked at all of the things he hadn't laid eyes on for almost a year. He looked like a curious child and she found herself endeared by the thought.
They decided to ditch the car near the outskirts of the city, and took a cab the rest of the way home. They didn't want anyone finding an unmarked vehicle in front of her home and end up being linked to Richardson. Eventually, they made it to her home, and as she unlocked her door, she found herself looking around anxiously, paranoid that they would be spotted. They quickly made their way inside and sat in the living room, thankful to be stationary after an entire day of moving.
"Nice place you got here," he remarked, looking around the place with content.
"I'm glad you like it. This is where you'll be staying for the time being." She said as she walked into her kitchen and reached into the fridge. "Want a beer?"
"After ten months? Absolutely." He said eagerly as he followed her and sat at the counter.
She opened a bottle and handed it to him. Liz smirked as he drank half the bottle in one pull, sighing in content as the cold beer ran down his throat. He closed his eyes and held the bottle against the side of his head. He smiled when he opened them and saw her watching him. Then she winced as she noticed the dried blood that ran down the side of his face and the bruising from her assault. He was holding the cold beer up to it.
"I'm sorry I hit you." She apologized as she pulled a clean rag from a drawer and soaked it in water. "Let me clean that up for you."
She walked around the counter and reached towards his face to clean the wounds. He looked down at her face as it seemed to scrunch in concentration. He didn't feel the small wound on his head as she carefully wiped away the blood from his face. Ressler watched as her eyes seemed to dart towards his wound and back to his own eyes. When she was finished, she gave him an almost unnoticeable smile and was about to withdraw her hand until he caught it in his. Surprised, she looked at him, wondering what he was doing before he grabbed the rag from her hand and cleaned the cuts on her face. She startled a bit from the unexpected touch and now it was her turn to watch as his brows furrowed while he tried to clean her wounds without hurting her. His eyes were soft and seemed to absentmindedly avoid her own stare. She tried not to think about how close they were; tried not to count the smattering of freckles on his face and the way his full lips pursed in concentration.
Then as quickly as it took her by surprise, his hand dropped from her face, throwing the rag on the counter. He sat back on the stool and drank the rest of his beer. Liz stared at him as he closed his eyes and swallowed the beverage, his head tilted back and his throat bobbing. She shook her head and quickly made her way to the other side of the counter, chugging her own beer. She told herself that the flush that crept up her cheeks were from the cold.
"Thank you, again for this." He said, holding up the bottle. "And you don't need to apologize. Just remind me not to piss you off. Wouldn't wanna get my ass kicked." He grinned.
Liz smirked at him then cleared her throat, suddenly wary of making eye contact with him.
"Don't worry about it," she said, looking anywhere but at him. "Why don't you get settled in. The spare bedroom's the second door on the left upstairs. Across the hall is the bathroom if you want to take a shower - there's a closet in there with some towels. I'll order us some takeout. Thai food okay?"
"Honestly, anything I don't have to skin or pick from a bush would be amazing." He said gratefully.
She nodded and pulled the phone from her pocket. She dialed as she watched him grab his bag and head upstairs.
"Dembe? It's me. I need to talk to him."