When Liz took her leave of absence, she didn't tell anyone the real reason behind it. Ressler had been the one to inform Cooper about Red's illness. Liz let them connect the rest of the dots for themselves however they wanted to, which they did without much trouble.
By now, it was an open secret that she and Agnes had moved in with Red—the team often danced around the wobbly justification for it, but didn't go out of their way to pry. Their reasoning was simple enough. Red was ill; of course Liz wanted to be close.
Liz had chosen Red over the task force many times before and if the task force wasn't careful to accommodate them, complications and all, she could very well do so again. Because no matter what the status of their relationship currently was—and it was always intense and unwieldy and volatile—above all, it was unbreakable. The task force didn't want to upset the fragile balance when their very existence depended on Red and Liz's sometimes bewildering connection.
None of that made sitting in Cooper's office now any less nerve-racking. Cooper and Ressler were, of course, relieved to hear Red's prognosis. But since they were also eager to get back to work, it would make the news that Liz wanted to share all the more fraught, even though she was more sure than ever that it was the right decision.
It was surreal to be back in the Post Office after so much time away. It always was, to some extent. Whenever Liz had been away for an extended period of time in the past, the first day back felt a little like she was trapped in a dreaded school dream, as if at any moment she was liable to end up trying to use the bathroom and the door would repeatedly unlock itself or she would somehow have to make up fifteen years worth of schoolwork even though she had long since graduated.
Returning this time was even stranger than usual. It wasn't like when she returned after being exonerated, or after she had faked her death, or even after she had awoken from a long coma, because this time she had somehow acquired an entire family and an entirely new world view in the few weeks since she'd last walked down these halls. The whole place felt completely foreign to her. Or she did, to be more precise. It felt like she no longer belonged there. She hadn't expected to feel that way at all.
From her colleagues' perspective, nothing about her had even changed. The gulf between their understanding of her and her true self had never been wider. For all they knew, she had only been offering Red emotional support while he underwent treatment for his illness. They didn't know about the bond they'd been building. Hell, they barely had a grasp on the bond they'd already had, bizarre as it was.
"Do you have any insight into when Reddington might be well enough to continue with The Blacklist?"
"We're gonna give it at least a few more weeks, I think." Liz took a deep breath. "But once we do start up again, we're going to be scaling back our personal physical involvement."
"You, as well as Reddington?"
"Yes, sir."
"Really?" Ressler said. "I can't picture you being satisfied with a desk job."
"That's funny, because this job sure as hell hasn't been the job I trained for."
Liz knew she sounded defensive and flippant, but it was true—and the more she thought about it, the more fulfilling she found the idea. This job was not at all the one she wanted, the one she spent so long dreaming of. She was supposed to be a profiler, not… not whatever the hell she'd had to become instead.
"I guess if Reddington's on board with it, I don't have a reason to object, but… can I ask why you want to scale back your involvement?"
"We've done a lot of thinking during all this. A lot of talking. Things have changed drastically since we first set up this arrangement. As important as The Blacklist is, we can't keep putting our lives in danger like we have been week in and week out. I was in a coma for ten months. Reddington's nearly died more times than he can count. There's too much at stake. We can't bring down the criminals on The Blacklist if we're dead."
And I don't want my daughter to grow up an orphan like I did. She's come close enough already, Liz thought, but didn't say.
Cooper regarded her silently for an uncomfortably long while, so uncomfortable Liz was surprised Ressler didn't break the silence himself.
"You've done good work with this task force, Agent Keen. I'll be sorry to see you step back, but I certainly understand why you would. I'm a little more surprised about Reddington making the same decision, since he's acted like he's had a death wish his entire criminal career, but then again nearly dying for reasons beyond your apparent control will make you reconsider a lot of things, a lot of risks that are within your control."
"Yes, sir, I think it's been a wake up call for him."
"Is that everything you came here to tell us?"
Liz swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"All right, then, you can go."
Liz was almost out the door when Ressler finally spoke again.
"Hey, Keen? Tell Reddington I'm happy for him. That file of his didn't look good. It's lucky he found a match or whatever that worked in time, though god only knows what he had to do to find it."
The hairs on Liz's neck stood on end. Ressler's well-wishes seemed innocent enough on the surface, but the implication itched at her. It burned. There was nothing evil about this, nothing underhanded. Red had done nothing—nothing—wrong in surviving. She couldn't let those suppositions fester.
"It was Agnes."
"What was Agnes?"
"Agnes was the match," she said, staring off at the ceiling in the corner of Cooper's office. "She donated a few vials of blood and Red's doctor was able to synthesize a viable treatment for him."
Cooper and Ressler sat in stunned silence for a tense moment.
"But Reddington isn't your father."
"No, sir, he's not."
"God. Agnes, of all people. What are the odds of that?" Ressler remarked.
Liz screwed up the courage to meet their baffled gazes. "Next to impossible," she said, silently begging one of them to read the truth between the lines so she wouldn't have to come right out and say it.
"If she wasn't a blood relative of his," Cooper clarified—he had obviously put the pieces together quickly enough.
Liz pressed her lips together and nodded. "If she wasn't."
The color began to drain from Ressler's face. "What?"
"Ressler…"
In one swift motion, Ressler took to his feet and brushed by Liz to leave Cooper's office without another word. Liz took his abandoned seat, deflated and a little shaky with adrenaline. She truly hadn't planned on coming clean when she came in today. Now she had no choice but to deal with the fallout.
She felt Cooper's eyes on her; it made her want to fidget with her scar. "You're not gonna storm out or start chastising me for fraternizing with the enemy?"
"I'm not really the storming out of the room type. As for the rest?" He shrugged. "What's done is done. You turned to each other when you were on the run together. That's not so unimaginable."
Liz blinked in surprise. "Sir, as much as I appreciate your understanding, I feel I would be remiss to let you believe that it was a one time thing. Or even a temporary thing."
"So I'm not wrong to assume it's still ongoing?"
"No."
He let out a heavy sigh. "Obviously, I have questions… and some concerns. But I'm not going to bother with them now. This was a near miss. Just focus on moving on from it first, focus on healing. After everything's settled… I wouldn't mind a more thorough explanation."
"You don't seem terribly surprised. Either that or you've got a killer poker face."
"I can't pretend the possibility never crossed my mind. Your pregnancy coincided so closely with your time on your own with him, it would've been remiss of me not to suspect that it wasn't a coincidence. What kind of investigator would I be if I didn't consider all plausible possibilities?"
"You never said anything."
"No. What would that have accomplished?"
It took Liz a moment to find her voice. "I would've thought I'd be reprimanded at the very least…"
"You were already operating outside of the law. Seeking comfort from a man who dropped everything to help you, despite the risks to his own business and reputation? From a man who proved he cared enough to keep you safe when no one else would? I'm supposed to discipline you for that?" he said, one eyebrow raised. "That's the least of what you were accused of."
"Well. I… appreciate your pragmatism."
"And I appreciate your candor, regardless of the roller coaster ride it took to reach it." He gestured towards the door. "Now you better get back home. Reddington'll have a search party out after you."
Liz nodded, taking to her feet with the hopes that her still-shaky legs would cooperate with her.
"Oh, and Agent Keen?"
"Yes?"
"Please give him my congratulations."
"Yes, sir."
