Ressler felt his heart beating quickly and his head spinning. Sweat plastered his blond hair to his forehead as he lay flat on his back. He squinted up at the bright lights above him and tried to shake off the ringing in his ears. Catching his breath, he leaned up on his elbow and rubbed his sore jaw.

"Nice move." He grinned.

"You taught it to me." Liz smiled, offering a hand and helping him up off the canvas.

"If you did anything like that during your test, they'd be idiots not to pass you." He said, holding apart the ropes so that they could exit the ring. "Plus, you've worked your ass off all year."

"I hope so." she sighed as she dug a towel out of her bag and wiped the sweat off her face. She then pulled another one out and tossed it to Ressler. "I don't know why, but I'm still nervous."

"Trust me. You'll be fine. Wouldn't be surprised if you were at the top of your class."

He nudged her with his elbow and savored the look on her face when she smiled. He then brought the towel up to his face and wiped away the sweat.

When he opened his eyes again, his head was swimming. His eyelids were heavy and he could just barely hear her saying something he couldn't understand. The sounds going into his ears were sharp and tinny. He struggled to focus on her, feeling nothing but pressure on his chest and a sharp pain as she pressed against the wound; a warm hand softly slapping his clammy face, which was quickly starting to feel cold.

His entire body was cold. An icy numbness was starting to claim his limbs, working its way up from his fingers and toes, leaving his muscles feeling heavy and useless. The sharp tone in his head grow louder and louder before it was quickly followed by a cloudy darkness that brought him down to a gentle unconsciousness.

"No, no, no, no!" Liz yelled, slapping him repeatedly on the face as she kept a scarf on his wound. "Ressler!"

"Check his pulse." Reddington instructed from the front seat.

She put two shaky fingers up to his neck. "I-I feel it. But it's really weak." She turned to the older man. "How much longer?!"

"We're two minutes out." He said calmly. "I've got Mr. Kaplan and a medical team waiting." He turned around and watched as she nervously studied Ressler's ashen face. "He'll be alright, Lizzie. He's a fighter."

Whatever she was thinking, Reddington didn't hear it. He didn't have to. Her lips were quivering and streaks of blood painted her cheeks, left behind by her wiping away tears. He knew exactly what she was feeling.

True to his words, they soon arrived at the site of what seemed to be an abandoned building. Liz walked promptly behind the gurney that carried Ressler, pushed by a team of medics wearing masks and sterile gear. They wheeled him into a room covered in plastic sheets with various medical technology that Ressler was immediately hooked up to.

"Elizabeth." Reddington said, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her towards a wall lined with a few chairs. "All we can do now is wait."

She followed him silently, her legs feeling wobbly and her heart beating fast. She felt a strange feeling. A feeling that weighed her down so much that she could barely speak. She felt weak and helpless. Completely and utterly afraid.

Red sat beside her, putting a hand over hers, which she squeezed with as much strength as she could muster. He looked at her, but only saw the side of her face, dried blood on her cheeks as she stared at the silhouettes behind the plastic sheets.

"Why don't you get yourself cleaned up?" He asked. "Perhaps get something to eat."

"I'm not leaving him." She said in a broken voice. "I have to be here when he wakes up."

She knew he was giving her a look that seemed cold and calculated, as was his usual gaze, but all she felt was pity and a projection of futile hope. She'd seen that shot. Felt the warm, sticky blood gushing out onto her hands. How quickly the color drained from his face. Surely Red employs only the best, right?

She shook her head and tried to distract herself by looking around the building. It was old and lifeless. The bare skeleton of something that was once bustling with life. Worn-down walls surrounded them, as well as exposed wires and vents on the ceiling. None of it screamed, 'hospital,' other than the fluorescent lights and the tiles on the floor.

Liz looked over when Dembe approached them and handed Reddington a phone.

"I've gotta take this." The older man squeezed her hand and gave her a gentle look that seemed to hide a strong resolve. "We're going to find who did this."

He promptly stood and followed Dembe as he exited the building, leaving her in the chair.

She felt herself shiver. Whether it was from the lack of heating or the dire situation, she didn't know. She did, however, realize that she'd felt that way before. Weak and cold, anxious and scared. Holding out through the night for someone fighting for their life on a hospital bed.

Liz eyed a doctor from her seat as the woman swiftly walked past her. She felt her shoulders droop when she realized she would probably have to wait a little longer for any updates. She sat in the waiting room of a hospital, her nails rubbing at the armrests nervously and her foot tapping against the carpet. There were only a few people sitting around. Fortunately, there weren't that many emergencies that night. Too bad one of them had her sitting there.

"Hey," Ressler said, standing beside her, his brows stitched with worry.

She sniffled and spoke with a weak voice. "Hey. Sorry I had to cancel."

"No, don't be." He said, giving her a sad smile. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

He sat down on the chair beside her and her misty eyes could only look at him. He still wore his suit, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. His hair was a little less controlled than usual; probably saw some action at work.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked.

She cleared her throat, "She, umm… she said he had a stroke. He's in the ICU right now. But they haven't told me anything else."

He sighed in response. He then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze, running his hand up and down her arm. "He'll be okay. I haven't met him, but if he raised you, then I'm sure he's tough as nails."

Liz nodded at that. He was right. She laid her head on his shoulder, thankful for his reassuring presence.

"It's early." She sniffled as she glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. "Shouldn't you still be at work? Or maybe you should be at home…getting some rest. You look like you've had a long day."

She felt his shoulder rise a little as a chuckle rumbled out of him. "I'm right where I need to be, Liz."

Liz smiled a little at that, already feeling some of the anxiety go away. Soon after, she felt her eyelids drooping. Though shivering from the air conditioned room, the adrenaline from her nerves was coming down and the comfort from Ressler being next to her was pacifying. Eventually, she let her eyes close.

She was pulled from sleep when she felt his shoulder gently nudging her awake. "Liz."

Still half-asleep, she could feel something warm draped over her frame. She pulled it tightly against her and buried herself into the crook of his neck. Her eyes remained closed as she relished the intoxicating scent of his aftershave; his arm wrapped around her waist as his hand rubbed up and down her side.

"Liz, wake up." He said again gently.

Her eyes finally fluttered open and saw that he had pulled his suit jacket over her, shielding her from the cold. She looked up at him and gave him a grateful smile. He gave her his own grin then gestured his head in front of them.

Before them stood the doctor, and upon realizing this, Liz quickly got up.

"How is he?" She asked worriedly, holding onto Ressler's hand.

The doctor gave her a gentle smile. "He's going to be okay. You can go see him now, if you'd like."

Liz sighed in relief, wiping away some tears that had formed in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Doctor."

"What'd I say?" Ressler said with a smile, squeezing her hand.

She smiled back, looking up at him endearingly. "Let's go see him."

He looked back at her, his brows rising in surprise. "You...want me to go with you?"

"Of course. You said you'd never met him, so...how bout we change that?"

Liz awoke from her daydreams when a loud, relentless beeping sounded throughout the building. Her heart started racing as she stood from the chair and rushed towards Ressler, who was surrounded by the medical staff. They huddled over him, working energetically as Liz's breath began to grow heavy. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her throat clenching as she hyperventilated to the tune of Ressler's blood pressure dropping. She could feel tears streaming from her wide eyes as she kept them trained on him.

No, no, no….please, no…

It was then that Liz realized why it hurt so much to see him in such a state. She'd been a little troubled by how quickly she took to him. Despite him being a stranger who lived in the woods and radiated death, Liz saw him as someone she wanted to help. At the time, she chalked it up to gratitude; being saved from hypothermia and Richardson and his men, she wanted to pay him back. Save him from his lonely 'life'.

And yet as she stood there, she knew exactly why she was crying and why her heart was beating out of her chest. All of the memories that she was remembering pieced together her past. A past that she was ashamed to have forgotten, manipulation be damned. She had always felt that something was missing in her life.

She thought that Reddington was the key to finding what that void was, suddenly coming into her life and clearly having every answer she needed about her past. But she quickly found out that he brought more questions than answers and more danger than safety.

Liz knew that there were too many mysteries in her life. Too many blanks to fill. But standing at the doorway of the makeshift E.R., she realized that having Ressler with her filled in the biggest blank. Her mind didn't focus on Reddington. It didn't focus on the taskforce or the work she did. It couldn't even focus on Tom. All she could focus on was Ressler. All she wanted to do was help him. Because she thought that maybe he could help her. She hoped that he could. She couldn't think of anyone else who could. Only he could fill that unmistakable void in her life. Only he could make her see things differently. And that was the last thought on her mind as a heartbreaking, flatline tone filled her ears.