Ressler blinked his eyes open against the bright sun filtering through the blinds. His neck was sore and his back ached as he noticed he had been sitting upright on the couch. The TV played some black and white film, almost muted and the empty wine bottle stood proudly beside two drained glasses. He was about to get up and stretch his legs when he noticed the weight settled on his lap. Ressler's eyes widened when he saw Liz sleeping, a blanket thrown over her body and her head on a pillow on top of his lap.

Soon after, his mind drifted to a similar situation. He could hear birds chirping in the morning gloom outside and the old-timey dialogue of a Twilight Zone episode playing softly on the TV. He held her in his arms, the soft blanket around her frame as she absently clutched onto him. He then walked into her room and placed her gently on her bed, taking a moment to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before walking out of the room and quietly shutting the door.

"How cozy." Reddington said, turning off the TV.

Ressler almost jumped when he heard the deep voice, but his anxiety quickly turned to irritation as he saw Reddington standing smugly in the kitchen. He was ashamed that he had slipped in without them noticing. Instead, he bit back any smart remark that threatened to lash out at the criminal and woke Liz.

"Keen," He said gently, squeezing her shoulder. "Keen, get up."

Liz only responded by pulling the blanket around her tightly and burying her face into the pillow, muttering sleepily. Reddington's smug grin widened as he shared a look with Dembe, who stood behind him and had an impassive face.

"Lizzie, as much as I'd hate to interrupt your heavenly sleep, we have matters to discuss."

Ressler scowled at him and shook her softly.

With a sleepy groan, Liz sat up and rubbed her eyes free of sleep. She stretched her arms and yawned, stopping abruptly when she noticed where she had been sleeping. Her eyes darted from Ressler to Reddington and decided to keep the invasive thoughts from manifesting in her head. She merely cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

"What do you want?" She asked Reddington.

He held his pompous grin for a while longer before speaking. "To offer help, as usual. Mr. Kaplan wants to give you two a good once-over. See if we can't figure out more about this pesky condition of yours."

Liz scoffed. "Raymond Reddington wants to help me figure out more about my past?"

"I want to make sure you're healthy." He replied, almost too seriously, getting up and donning his hat. "Get dressed. Dembe and I will be waiting outside."

They walked out the door, leaving Liz and Ressler on the couch.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you." Liz said, a little embarrassed.

"That's alright. I'm glad you got some sleep." He shrugged.

She smiled and stood up, heading for her room. "We should get going."

Several minutes later, they were both fresh and ready, though they were a little surprised they had slept so late, as it was already almost noon.

Before they could walk out the door, Liz turned around and eyed him seriously.

"Look, I know we've done nothing but run and sleep for the past few days, and now you know about me and Reddington. I just..." She said. "I just hope you can still trust me."

Ressler was surprised. It was as if she could read his mind. He hated that he was barely getting anywhere with figuring out what happened to him and working with Reddington only made him more agitated. Though, she was only partially right, he smiled to himself when she'd acknowledged it.

"You're the only one I trust right now, Keen. And I know we're gonna figure this out." He said, handing her the gun she'd left in his room with a confident look.

Samar hung up her phone, shoving it in her pocket and shaking her head. "He's still not picking up."

"How convenient," Meera said bitterly, as the two of them stepped out of the elevator and into the war room.

They were quickly greeted by Aram, who looked at them nervously. "I, uhh… I found something," he said quietly.

The two women gave each other a look before urging him to continue.

"So we've found nothing to connect Agent Keen and Ressler so far, but I noticed we were only looking at the time after she joined the bureau." He said, leading them to his desk. "So I did a little digging, and it turns out that Agent Keen joined this mentorship program. It wasn't really an official program sanctioned by the academy, more of an...after-school group, so it never popped up in our records, but there's a lot about it in old texts and messages that I found between the two of them. It was before she even joined the force...you guys don't think—"

"Aram." Samar interrupted, almost cautious. "We found something too."

He eyed them both, confused and tense.

"We just finished searching through Liz's home." Meera spoke. "We found letters. Correspondences between Liz and Ressler. They were hidden under the floorboards in a box along with passports, aliases, and different types of currency."

"Oh...well I guess that confirms it.." he said, almost seeming to be defeated.

"The letters seemed to be in code so it might take a while to decrypt them." Meera added. "But it does seem like the possibility is getting more likely."

"I'm sorry." Samar said, placing a hand on his arm. "None of us want to believe it, but there's just too much evidence."

"I guess that explains why Mr. Reddington isn't answering." He nodded with a weak grin.

"He's been protecting Liz all this time. No doubt he'll protect her from us, too." Meera agreed.

They stood silently for a few moments, taking in the fact that the person they'd worked with for years, putting away high-level criminals and having each their backs, was involved in terrorism.

"Who else was in that group?" Samar asked, breaking the silence. "Maybe we could talk to them."

Aram grimaced as he showed several pictures of people on the screen. "Well, the group worked on a partnership basis, in pairs. I guess to simulate having a partner in the field. And there were five pairs including Ressler and Agent Keen. But from what I've found… all of the other members have gone missing…and Ressler and Agent Keen had no contact with the rest of them after getting together."

"They're missing?" Samar asked.

He nodded. "The bureau looked into it but nothing concrete came out of it. They all went missing during assignments, so it was assumed that they were either compromised or killed."

"Were they still in the group when they went missing?" Meera questioned.

"The group was only made for agents who had a little more experience and people who were either in or fresh out of the academy. That's why it wasn't an official thing. It was basically made for people to transition from the academy to the real thing, so there was an emphasis on keeping the experience levels as close as possible. Just so it was a little more comfortable for the newbies." His fingers tapped on the keyboard and an image of a flyer showed up, describing the program.

"And when the mentors got too experienced, they left the group?" Samar inferred.

"Not exactly. So, in all of the pairs, the mentors had been working at the bureau for seven years when they went missing, along with the mentees. They didn't necessarily leave the group, they just...all went missing once they hit seven years."

"Who formed the group?" Samar asked.

Aram sighed. "That we don't know. There's no record of who posted the flyer. I just found it in their phones. The good news is, I've been looking into things at Quantico, and there doesn't seem to be a new group forming. So we can rule out someone outside of the group creating this program and hunting down other agents.

"Either that, or they got what they wanted with the first one." Meera suggested.

Liz and Ressler stood in a small room of a warehouse hidden somewhere in New York. Surrounded by cold concrete walls, plastic sheets, and exposed fluorescent lights, they had just finished getting full-body CT scans and they were glad to finally be out of the hospital gowns after several uncomfortable minutes.

"Maybe it'll be different for you." Ressler suggested as he buckled his belt.

"The doctor said you were perfectly healthy." She replied, pulling on her boots. "Do you want her to say I'm not?" She grinned.

"Of course not!" He chuckled. "I just mean, maybe we might finally figure something out about this."

"And if we don't?" She asked, suddenly serious.

"Then we keep trying."

"How are they?" Reddington asked Mr. Kaplan as she looked over their scans.

"The scan was accurate. He's got the same tumors in his brain." She said bluntly. "As well as what looks like scarring on his heart."

"And Elizabeth?"

She hesitated, giving him a calculated look. "I think it's time to start looking for answers, Raymond."

Reddington stared back, urging her to continue while his trepidation bubbled underneath.

Mr. Kaplan showed him Liz's scans alongside Ressler's. "She has tumors on her brain and scarring on her heart. In the exact same places as he does." She pointed to them in comparison as Dembe eyed the scans behind them.

"How is that possible?" Red asked grimly, unable to take his eyes off of the images.

"I don't know." She replied. "But they might. If they could remember."

"I know you don't want her to remember, but it might be our only choice." Dembe advised, putting a hand on Red's shoulder.

He shook his head and sighed in controlled frustration. "Fine. See if we can make an appointment with the good doctor." He said to Dembe.

After he collected himself, Reddington walked towards Liz and Ressler.

"Who's up for a field trip?" He asked with a clap of his hands.

"What, another one?" Ressler asked tiredly.

"Oh, forgive me, do you have to be somewhere?"

The younger man only responded by narrowing his eyes at him.

"Where are we going?" Liz asked, rolling her eyes.

"Back to D.C."

Ressler couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You want to take us back to the city you just smuggled us out of?"

"Yes."

"For what?" Liz asked defensively.

"Not for what. For whom. A memory specialist. Doctor Selma Orchard. She can help you remember what happened to you." He said, looking at them both.

"Hang on, how do you know we've been having memory problems?" Ressler asked suspiciously.

"Baz told me." He replied matter-of-factly. "He also informed me that we only have until 6pm to go through the route we need to go through in order to get into the city. So unless there are any other questions…?"

Liz was a little surprised by the urgency. "Wait, what about the scans? What do they say?"

Reddington spoke plainly. "Nothing. Physically, you're both perfectly healthy."

The two looked at each other with disappointment as they followed Reddington and Dembe out of the warehouse. They didn't speak much in the car, as Liz felt suspicious of Reddington. It seemed out of character for Red to be so eager in having her remember her past, but she wasn't exactly against the idea. She also doubted that Ressler would object to remembering what had happened, but she still had a weird feeling in her gut about it.

"Is it set up?" Tom asked as he sat on a bench behind a woman reading a newspaper.

"Yes." She answered, not taking her eyes off of the paper. "We just need to wait until they're in position."

"Good." He nodded as he pretended to look through his phone. "And don't worry about the bureau, I gave em a goose to chase."

"What about your lovely wife and her friend?" The woman asked.

He rolled his eyes. "All the doubts are put to rest, alright? Just get it done." He promptly got up and left.

"Ow." Ressler whispered. "Those are my ribs, Keen."

"Sorry." Liz said quietly, pulling her elbow away as far as she could to keep it from hitting him again. "I'm starting to get a cramp."

"I think my leg's falling asleep." He said, squeezing his leg in a vain attempt to get the feeling back.

They sat back-to-back, tightly packed inside a secret compartment of a cabinet in the back of a cargo truck. They'd barely made it before the deadline and had been sitting uncomfortably for almost two hours. Red and Dembe were crammed into another truck that followed closely behind them.

Liz could feel his warmth on her back and she was scared he could feel the tension coming off of her in waves. He'd been quiet throughout the trip, and it only served to unnerve her even more as they approached the city's checkpoints. She didn't exactly know why she was nervous. She told herself that she was just excited about learning the truth, but it felt more like she was worried about what they would find.

"You okay?" She asked, attempting to derail her own train of thought.

"Yeah, you know, just a cracked rib. Ruptured spleen. Nothing big." He said dryly.

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Okay, tough guy."

"Are you okay?" She heard him ask.

"Yeah…"

Liz felt like she needed a distraction. She wasn't exactly the best at handling tight spaces. She didn't get catatonic or panicky when it happened, but the thoughts floating around in her head weren't exactly helping the conditions.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" She said, maintaining her steady breathing.

"What's up?"

"What's the first thing you'll do when this is all over?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "Isn't it a bit early to be making those plans?"

"Humor me." She said.

"Okay, uhh…" he pondered for a moment, a little caught off guard by the question. "I don't know, I guess...I'd go for a run. Early in the morning like I used to." He then chuckled and shook his head. "I've been running this whole time, and I just realized that's the first thing I want."

"It makes sense to me." She shrugged. "You wanna run free. Not having to look over your shoulder while you're running. No worrying about people dying. What else?"

He grinned wistfully. "Get some groceries, take out the trash...maybe have dinner at a restaurant. Something...normal."

"That sounds nice."

"What about you?" He asked.

"Hmm…" she pondered. "A nice walk in the park. With a cup of coffee, maybe a muffin."

"Some real exhilarating stuff, huh?" He deadpanned.

"Yeah, real thrilling." She smiled.

They shared a laugh before settling in to wait out the ride. It was strange to Liz how the silence suddenly became comfortable; how easy it was to release the tension she had and fall into the rhythm of his breathing as she felt him inhale and exhale behind her. Though it was already pitch-black in the compartment, she closed her eyes to savor the moment. Listening only to the mechanical sounds of the truck and the rubber of the tires driving over uneven pavement, she basked in the feeling of a warm body nearby that rivaled the cold air seeping in from the outside.

Liz only opened her eyes when she felt the truck slow to a stop. The loud banging of the shutter door ascending reverberated in her ears and the truck seemed to quake around her. She looked around the inside of the cabinet as beams of light permeated the tiny openings of the compartment. Heavy footsteps reached her ears as the flashlight sliced through the darkness. Liz was holding her breath. She was fairly certain that Ressler was too, because she only felt the heat of a rigid back against her. No movement and no sound.

The footsteps drew closer and Liz clenched her jaw when she felt the cabinet open. With only a thin piece of wood blocking them from view, her eyes widened in concern. The light shimmered through the cracks as they stayed as still as possible. After a few eternities of anxiety, Liz almost yelped when the cabinet slammed shut and the light disappeared.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when the loading door closed and the truck started moving again.

"Jesus." Ressler muttered. "You good?"

"Lovely." She breathed.

Another half hour of potholes in the dark and they finally arrived. The truck dropped them off at some alley, hidden from any public view, illuminated by a single light perched atop a post.

"Hey, how's your rib?" Liz asked.

"Still breathing." Ressler smiled. "Listen, Keen, before we go in there...I just wanted to say—"

"Lizzie, may I speak with you?" Reddington interrupted.

She looked at Ressler, who gave her a nod and spoke. "It's okay. I'll be right here."

They walked towards the entrance of the alley, where Dembe stood guard.

"I realize that recent events have afforded you some time to form a bond with Donald."

Liz scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is about this morning…"

"This is about your past. And how he fits into it."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know about what happened?"

"No." Red shook his head. "But I hope you're prepared for the possibility that those memories may not all be good ones."

Liz was surprised with herself. She'd never thought about the possibility that Ressler could've been a negative influence on her life. All of her recollections seemed harmless. But now that she thought about it, there was no reason to deny the possibility that he could be lying about his innocence. Or maybe he couldn't remember planning an act of terrorism.

She looked over at him, stretching his limbs and sorting out his back. She turned back to Reddington and searcher his eyes.

"What do you know about him?" She asked.

"I told you, I don't know anything about what happened to—"

"No, not about what happened. What do you know about him?" She pressed. "He led the investigation on your case. There's no way you don't know him."

Reddington sighed, his eyes moving past Liz and regarding the subject of the conversation. "He's driven. A good shot. Perhaps the only man I know who has no price. His morals are annoyingly incorruptible."

"Do you think he's a terrorist?" She asked him intently.

Reddington only gave her a silent look. "We'd better get going," he said as he walked towards the entrance.

Liz sighed and shook her head and walked back to Ressler, who eyed her curiously.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." She plastered on a half-hearted smile. "You said you had something you wanted to say?"

He gave her an unconvinced look, but seemed to move past it. "I, uhh...I just wanted to say before we go in there...thank you. For everything."

"Ressler, I told you, you don't have to keep thanking me." She grinned.

"Well, I want to. And I want you to know that no matter what we find in there, no matter what we remember, good or bad…" he looked her earnestly in the eyes. "I'm glad I met you."

Liz didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think. And she didn't know what was running through her mind when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm embrace. She felt him freeze, clearly surprised by the act until he brought up his arms and hugged her back.

After a moment, she pulled back and gave him a soft smile. "Me too."

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed for evening." The secretary said with an apologetic smile. "Doctor Orchard's on her way out."

"Well, you seem like a diligent person, uhh…" Reddington motioned at her.

"Diane." She said, her eyes moving over the four strangers.

"Diane. Now, I know the good doctor likes to keep to her schedule, and she rightfully deserves to do so, but I'm afraid it's a bit of an urgent matter."

"I'm really sorry, sir, but the best I can do right now is to set up an appointment at a later date."

Just then, the doctor walked out of her office, bag and coat in hand, clearly prepared to head home.

"Doctor! Great to see you again." Red crooned.

The doctor's eyes widened and her grasp on her things tightened.

"Diane, why don't you head home." She said.

"Well, doctor, you told me to—"

"We can do that tomorrow." She said with a nervous smile. "Good night. And give Tony my best."

"Umm..okay….thank you, ma'am." She said, gathering her things and heading for the door.

"What do you want?" Doctor Orchard hissed.

"I have some friends here, who are in need of your expertise." He gestured Liz and Ressler.

"You want me to help them forget something? Absolutely not."

"Actually, they need your help remembering."

The doctor scoffed. "I told you before, it's not the same thing. I can't just—"

"Doctor, I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we have insist."

Her eyes drifted to Dembe, who stood intimidatingly in front of the door.

Moments later, Liz and Ressler sat in chairs beside each other, strapped down. Monitors were attached to them, with sensors on their heads and necks.

"I have to warn you, my field is in blocking trauma. Extracting it, there are probable risks."

"Are the restraints necessary?" Liz asked.

She nodded. "I'm also going to give you sedatives. I'm going to use a combination of hypnotherapy and pharmaceuticals to put you in a lucid, waking dream state. The mind turns things off for a reason. I found that what the mind fights, the body tries to fight too." The doctor responded.

"H-hang on, a minute…I'm not sure I, uh…" Ressler stammered nervously.

He stopped when Reddington leaned over and whispered something in the doctor's ear.

"Don't worry, nothing I use is addictive. I need you both relaxed for your own safety." She assured.

Ressler looked shamefully at the floor, purposefully avoiding Liz's eyes, which grew in surprise.

"We'll start with you." The doctor said to Ressler.

He nodded.

The doctor attached an IV to Ressler's arm and proceeded to inject something into him. After a few minutes, Liz watched as Ressler's eyelids began to drop and his head began to sway.

"I want you to close your eyes. Now I want you to relax all the muscles in your body." Orchard said soothingly. "Pretend that you can float. As you float, all of the tension leaves your body. Tension floats too...but it floats away from you."

They watch as Ressler's head leans back on the headrest.

"Now I want you to breathe in...and out." He follows her, his chest rising and falling.

"All of the tension is floating away," she continues. "You can't even feel it anymore. All you can feel is yourself...making the image of yourself clearer and clearer. Focus on that image of yourself. Only it's not you today, it's you 10 months ago…you can almost picture him. That man, clear as day."

Ressler laid back, his eyes closed and his breathing steady.

"I'm gonna ask the man to open his eyes…"

His head rolled against the headrest.

"Are you ready?"

He groaned sleepily.

"Three...two...one..."

Ressler opened his eyes, yet the darkness remained. He tried to move, but restraints held tight against his arms and sharp pain made itself known around his abdomen. Then, as quickly as he realized it was there, a cloth hood was pulled off of his head and a blinding light assaulted his eyes.

"What do you see?" The doctor's voice echoed in his head.

"It's me." He responded. "But I'm tied up."

The moment he turned away from the light, a strong fist collided with the side of his face, followed by another. The assailant stood backlit by the harsh light, his voice garbled and unintelligible.

Ressler groaned as he took another punch.

"What do you want?" He grunted out.

Another set of distorted words were shouted at him, then a sharp pain was driven into his chest.

"What the hell is happening?!" Liz yelled as she watched Ressler shaking against his restraints.

The monitor's numbers began to rise quickly as he white-knuckled the armrests.

The doctor eyed Reddington harshly. "I told you this before, it's not going to be easy. These drugs might give him an arrhythmia."

"What else do we need?" He asked calmly.

"There should be an anesthesiologist or an ER Doctor here. I told you there are risks."

"This is our only move, doctor. We need you to take those risks."

Doctor Orchard clenched her jaw and plunged another needle into the IV. Almost instantly, Ressler calmed down and the monitor slowed it's beeping. She leaned over and spoke into his ear.

"What's happening? Tell me."

Ressler felt like he was floating and sinking at the same time. A gentle, cold prickling surrounded his extremities and he could see nothing but a blurry light framed by creeping darkness. He forced himself to move, but only managed to barely increase his field of vision.

"I'm on a table…" he said - or thought - he couldn't feel his mouth moving.

Silhouettes surrounded him as they moved efficiently, though it seemed to him that their silence was deafening.

"They're...all around me." Ressler said, his eyes still closed.

"Who?" The doctor asked gently.

"I-I can't see."

"Can you hear anything? Smell anything?"

Ressler then scrunched his face and chuckled, "Did you try to cook again?"

Reddington narrowed his eyes. "What's happening?"

"He might be having a tangent memory. His brain is trying to replace a bad memory with a good one."

"The damn light just burned out again." Liz said, her hand carefully removing the faceplate of the light switch.

"Liz, I don't think you should be digging around in there." Ressler walked into the apartment and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. "Why don't you call your landlord?"

She scoffed. "I have a better chance of winning the lottery than I do trying to talk to him. I just put this bulb in yesterday, it's gotta be something with the wir—"

Her sentence turned into a yelp when the bulb exploded above her, showering shards of glass all around her.

"Shit! You okay?" Ressler asked worriedly.

"I-I think so. I can't move." She looked down at her bare feet surrounded by fragments of the broken bulb.

"Uhh...okay, let me uh…" Ressler looked down at her, before stepping close to inspect her situation.

The glass crunched under his shoes as he lifted her up and placed her away from the hazardous area. She looked up at him, his body still close to hers.

"Thanks." She cleared her throat. "You know you could've just...handed me my shoes."

Liz pointed to the shoes in the corner of the room.

"Uhh, yeah...I guess I could have." He rubbed the back of his neck.

They looked at each other for a moment that felt a little too long, before she smiled and stepped away to grab something to clean up the mess with.

Liz found it strange to watch as Ressler's face changes so quickly from a warm smile to grit teeth and clenched eyes.

"What is it?" The doctor continued. "What do you see?"

"Don't worry, you'll be out soon." He spoke through his teeth. "And you won't remember." Ressler began to settle softly into the seat.

Then, just as quickly as he relaxed, he began convulsing violently. The monitor beeped erratically as he gasped and shook in the chair.

"Shit." Liz said worriedly. "Is he okay?!"

"Okay. We're done. His blood pressure's too high. He's in V-tach." Doctor Orchard grabbed a needle pierced him in his shoulder.

Ressler opened his eyes wide, still gasping breathlessly as he looked around the room at the others. The doctor worked to unstrap him from the chair in order to help him calm down.

"What is it? What did you see?" Reddington questioned.

Ressler sighed, pressing his hand to his head. "Nothing...I couldn't see anything. I could barely hear anything. It was like something was blocking everything I saw."

Redington shook his head. "That's a shame. Perhaps Lizzie might remember something."

"What?" Ressler's head shot up. "No, no, you're not putting her through that."

"Donald, you don't understand—"

"No, you don't understand." He said, agitated. "I'm not going to let you put her through that."

He glared at the older man, who regarded him in turn with a cold look.

"Ressler…" He turned to see Liz beside him. "It's okay."

"Keen, listen, I—"

"You need to let me do this." She said, her eyes searching his.

With much reluctance, Ressler sat back and watched as Liz went through the process he had gone through moments ago. He was still shaking off the effects of the drugs, but when she fell into that dream state, he forced himself to be alert.

"Why are you doing this?" Liz asked tiredly, her head strapped down, along with the rest of her extremities.

She was covered in sweat, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. She felt absolutely exhausted and couldn't find the energy to do what she really wanted and scream at the person in front of her.

"I'm sorry." The voice said, just barely understandable. "I wish I could do something."

"What do you see?" Doctor Orchard asked.

Liz's eyes remained shut as she spoke. "Wh-what are you doing? What is this?"

The four of them waited, watching as the semi-conscious woman's head rolled gently to the side.

Liz couldn't help but succumb to the gentle touch on her head. It felt cold against her skin, and she couldn't do anything to keep it away. She watched with the side of her eye as the person drew near, a lab coat hanging off of their shoulders.

"Please…" she whispered.

She felt a sharp sting to her neck and her vision began fading. The last thing she could just make out was a badge clipped onto the lapel of the coat.

The monitor beeped rapidly as Liz writhed violently in the chair.

"Do something!" Ressler shouted at the doctor.

The doctor took another needle and plunged it into Liz's shoulder, just as she had done with Ressler. They waited a few second, but her conditioned remained the same.

"What's happening?" Reddington asked anxiously.

"She's not responding to it." Orchard said. "She must be remembering something traumatic."

Without thinking, Ressler moved towards Liz and held her shoulders. "Keen, listen to me. You need to come back, alright? Come back."

"Be careful! She has to come out of it herself, or it could be damaging!" Orchard warned.

She seemed to struggle in his grip, though her convulsions began to wane. Liz moaned sleepily, her eyes clenched shut and stress was clearly still overwhelming her but the beeping began to slow down. Ressler held her steadily, his hands rubbing up and down her arms.

"That's it, Liz, come back to me." He whispered comfortingly. "Just follow my voice. Come back to me."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Dull and weak, she stared at his worried eyes.

"Thank god." Ressler smiled as he kneeled by the chair.

Both Red and Dembe breathed a sigh of relief behind him while the doctor unhooked Liz from the machines and freed her from the chair.

"Did you see anything?" Orchard asked.

"I saw a badge." She said, pressing against her eyes to relieve the pressure.

"A badge for what?" Asked Reddington.

"I don't know. But she had a lab coat...Doctor Alice Karlsen."

Moments later, they were getting ready to leave, though both Liz and Ressler stopped to speak with the doctor.

"Thank you for your help, doctor." Liz told her gratefully. "I know you weren't exactly willing, but we appreciate it."

She merely nodded. Orchard then spoke to them seriously. "You said there might have been something blocking your memories?"

"That's right." Ressler said.

"It's entirely possible that someone may have done something to manipulate or block your memories." She looked at them both. "We've only peeled off a few layers of those obstacles, but in doing so, it might be possible that more of those memories will come back to you in time."

It was dark when they stepped out of the building. The cold night air was back and the streets were somewhat empty. A few cars drove by, but they didn't pay much attention to them. Liz felt ecstatic. She was glad Reddington's warnings weren't really necessary. Not only that, they finally had a solid lead to follow. It was going to be difficult to find her without the FBI's resources, but she was confident that Reddington could get it done.

As Reddington and Dembe entered the car, Ressler stopped and stayed outside to speak with Liz.

"Keen, listen." He began in a hushed voice. "I know we've got a lead to pursue, right now but I've gotta tell you something."

She looked at him, still a bit dizzy. Whether it was from finally picking up a scent on the trail, or from the remnants of the drugs still in her system, she didn't know.

"What is it?"

The last thing she expected to hear was the sound of a motorcycle, its engine roaring as it neared them. She turned around under the illumination of the street lights and saw what looked to be a daisy, beautifully inscribed in black ink that glided seamlessly across the inside of a slender, pale arm. She heard a loud bang and suddenly the tattoo was stained with crimson streaks, before it disappeared into the darkness.

Liz turned to Ressler and saw him clutching his chest, his back against the car and his cerulean eyes wide with shock, regarding her with pain. His shirt bloomed with a sinister red stain as he slid weakly onto the ground, mouthing a silent apology.