Now All Our Memories, They're Haunted…
A/N: I've ignore most of the scene where Elizabeth is explaining things to Scottie. I think it would be highly improbable that she would have been able to look after a toddler, alone in the condition that they poorly portrayed. I've also changed the word hospital to recovering in the scene where Lizzy is explaining what she's done with Agnes and I've changed the whole revenge conversation. There's various aspects of this episode that make no sense when you really look at it.
I found this hard going, mainly because I was wanting to write another chapter and it kept messing with my head but hopefully its a good end! I will resume 'If You Could Read My Mind Love' I have a couple of chapters mapped out and one is nearly finished so you can expect that probably in a couple of days.
I picture Lizzy and Red using Telegram or Signal where the texts auto-delete after 1 day. She's not gonna go over messages. She's got enough going on.
TW: Flashbacks, nightmare mentions, drug & alcohol mentions.
Song: Already Gone - Sleeping at Last.
Part Six: I Want You To Know, You Couldn't Have Loved me better…
In a week, he hadn't answered the phone once. She'd called him every night for the first five days, sent so many messages that she'd lost count and didn't know what she'd said despite pleading with him before turning angry, still he remained silent. The first day she'd spent in the dark, mostly crying unable to eat and ditched her physical therapy exercises. The noise of the city was almost unbearable after being surrounded by nature in a large quiet house for so long. She winced every time a siren went passed. She ignored most of her phone calls and barely slept, when she did she saw the night of the murder replayed on repeat. The only phone call she did pick up was that of Dr Orchard, she cancelled their appointment that week unable to think about leaving but feeling trapped inside. She begged Dr Orchard to call Reddington but when she said that she thought that Elizabeth should call him herself, she hung up abruptly.
She began packing on the second day, her eyes puffy from so much crying. She drank half a bottle of wine which was enough to intoxicate her after being sober for almost two years. She upturned the apartment, shoving everything she could into boxes taken from storage. She wasn't meant to drink with the meds she was on but at this point she didn't care anymore. She was sat amongst an upturned closet of Tom's things when there was a knock at the door. She froze for a moment unable to move.
'Elizabeth, it's Dembe…' He called through the locked door. She knew he probably had a key but the chain was on, she also knew that wouldn't stop him. She stumbled as she got up, tripping over a box of papers. She eyed herself in the mirror by the door, she looked a mess. She hadn't showered in two days, brushed her hair or gotten dressed. She was also pretty drunk on wine and pain pills. She cracked the door, leaving the chain on.
'What do you want?' She asked abruptly, looking up at the tall man standing in the hallway. He frowned at the greeting.
'May I come in?' He asked, assessing her in that way he had, he knew she was drunk the moment he laid eyes on her. Her pupils blown, hair disheveled and it had lost that silky shine it usually had, her eyes were puffy and red rimmed with dark circles beneath them, she leaned heavily against the door frame.
'Is he with you?' She asked, ignoring his request looking anywhere but at him.
'No. Please let me in so we can talk…' He asked politely, reaching out to place a hand on the door.
'I have nothing to say to you… Tell him he needs to come up himself.' She told him hastily shutting the door, he heard the locks turn behind it.
That night she passed out on the floor where Tom had been stabbed, amongst his belongings.
On the fourth day, she dragged herself to the shower, sitting on the floor of the tub, she let the water wash over her. She was hung over and her head banged, the light hurting her eyes. She sat there for too long, the water growing from cold to icy. She wondered how warm it would be at the lake would be now, whether there were hatching goslings amongst the spring flowers. Her thoughts wandering to a time when she might have been content, as much as she could have been. Content. He made her content she thought and now he was gone because she was foolish, because she wanted to leave. Now she was stuck here and he'd ghosted her. She wondered how long he would be silent for, since she had known him she couldn't remember a time when it had been this long. It must be killing him she thought briefly, she shuddered and climbed out, shrugging on her robe. She was making her way to the kitchen when she heard the knock on the door. Again she froze momentarily, her feet bare with her robe pulled around her.
'Elizabeth, it's Dembe…' He called through the door, her heart leapt for a second. She pulled open the door and saw he was alone and her heart sinking.
'Is he with you?' She asked preempting him. He looked her over, her hair wet, her eyes were still puffy and red but she had a determination about her and more importantly she wasn't drunk.
'No… Could I come in?' He asked, smiling down at her.
'No.' She folded her arms across her chest and his eyes rose to take in the scene behind her, the packing crates and boxes. Her living room in upheaval. She pulled the door closed, sandwiching herself between it and the door frame.
'What do you want? If you've just come to check I'm not dead, you can tell him that he can come and do that himself.' She told him annoyed.
'How are you doing?' He asked when he realised she wasn't going to let him inside but he also didn't want the door slammed in his face again.
'If he wants to know, he can come up here and ask me himself. I want Agnes back. I have made other arrangements for her. Can you bring her back tomorrow?' She told him, her face set in a permanent scowl.
'I will see what I can do…' He told her as the door closed in his face.
She received a text from Dembe half an hour later, saying that Agnes would be brought by at 10am the following morning. That afternoon she arranged for movers to come to place the packed boxes in storage. The living room was mostly clear by the evening. Everything that could be stored that she didn't need was mostly gone.
She'd chosen Scottie to look after Agnes not just because she was Tom's mother but because she knew Red was transient. Despite having been a constant in Agnes's life for almost two years. His life was dangerous and she wanted him to continue the blacklist while she was gone. She also presumed he wouldn't be staying in that house for much longer. She knew he wouldn't be happy but if he was happy to ghost her then this is what he got, she couldn't talk to him about her decision if he refused to take her calls. She arranged for Scottie to come by at 11am to pick up Agnes knowing that it was likely that Dembe would come alone.
By Friday, everything was packed and Agnes had been collected. She sent Reddington a text telling him that she would be leaving in the afternoon and if he wanted to say goodbye he should come by before then. She hadn't given him much time and she wasn't sure if now she'd told him whether she actually wanted to say goodbye. Maybe it would be easier to just leave but then the chances of him following her were high. Her stomach churned with the thought that maybe he might not come at all. That night she didn't sleep for worrying about whether he would show up and at 3am she got up and paced the living room. She wanted a drink but there was nothing left. She fell asleep again at 5am, waking with a jolt when her alarm went off at 7am. She showered early and put on a pair of jeans with ripped out knees, her fingers still fumbling with the button and a black v-neck t-shirt which she tucked into the jeans. She blow dried her hair straight which made her arms ache, putting on thick socks and a black zip-up hoodie.
At 11am she was engrossed in wrapping framed photos in bubble wrap, her mind wandering when there was a small knock at the door. She froze, her stomach dipped and heart beating faster with anticipation. She crossed the space in socked feet, opening the door to see him standing there in a dark grey three piece suit. His face hard and set with what? She didn't know. He barely looked at her, smiling briefly in more of a greeting, his eyes not betraying an ounce of emotion. What did she expect? Hugs and kisses and declarations of what? Pleads for her not to go? She wanted to believe that this was his way of coping, that he felt he had to be cold and distant in order for him to let her go but she couldn't help feeling hurt. She opened the door wider, letting him in and returning his polite smile. Her face was pale with dark shadows under her eyes. She ached to wrap her arms around him, just to see what he would do but her pride was wounded and If he wanted to play it cool and pretend like they meant nothing to each other then she could do that too. She was exhausted and fed up of this backwards and forward pull they'd had going on since she'd met him.
She crossed the room carefully, standing behind the boxes, not allowing herself too much proximity to him. She picked up a framed photo of Tom and Agnes, her back to him as he stood to attention in the middle of the living room.
'I need you to promise me something.' She spoke for the first time as she turned back to the box placing the frame inside.
'Of course.' He spoke simply not looking at her, standing tall with his arms clasped in front of him, holding his signature fedora. She looked down for a moment as she finished her task.
'The Blacklist…' She looked up then, her eyes shadowed still impossibly beautiful to him. 'I need you to promise me you'll keep working on it with the Task Force.' She nodded vaguely looking up at his stern face. He avoided her eye,
'Doesn't work without you.' He said shaking his head matter of factly, looking down.
'It has to…' She said, her voice weak, fatigue seeping through.
'I think we've done enough.' He shook his head and avoided her eye, turning to place his hat down.
'What you've done…' She leaned heavily against the boxes watching him, she let out a breath. 'What you've made it possible for the Task Force to do…' He turned back toward her but didn't meet her eye. His jaw worked for a moment before he looked up, his mouth downturned. 'You know, I've never thanked you for that…' She shook her head her mouth pressed together in a thin line, He nodded slightly back at her, his own mouth reflecting the same expression before smiling slightly. 'Why you do it, what you get out of it at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. But I need you to promise me you're gonna keep doing it.' She closed her eyes, willing him to agree with little fuss because she didn't have the energy to argue with him.
'I promise.' He said, nodding once before breaking eye contact. She felt the pull of the tether between them.
'Thank you…' She told him as his eyes focused on her own once again. She pushed herself off the boxes coming carefully around the side of them, she rubbed her chin with the side of her hand before crossing her arms in front of her chest. She approached him slowly wanting nothing more than to feel his arms around her,
'I have one more favour to ask you. And it's not gonna be easy for you, but it's important to me.' She told him, his chin was lifted and he watched as she approached, a small smile playing on his lips and she wondered then if he was feeling the same. She felt the tether tighten the closer she got to him.
'Okay…' He said, nodding and then smiled again as if to placate her rather than agree to anything she was about to say. She looked at him for the moment, his eye wandering so as not to focus on her.
She stood in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch. Her face was serious, her eyes wide, her eyebrows raised and her tone firm,
'I don't want you to follow me…' She shook her head, his own face set in stone as he watched her. 'You've gotta let go…' She told him knowing he was trying to do just that. He pursed his lips, his face set, nostrils flaring slightly. 'Can you do that?' He nodded imperceptibly, his eye twitching.
'Isn't that what I've done, Elizabeth? Let go… Isn't that why I left you here? Isn't that why I haven't called you back all week?' He was irritated, she could see it on his face but they both knew if she left he would keep tabs on her. She stepped back swallowing, her eyes shining back at him.
'Yes…' She whispered swallowing the lump that was threatening, 'But we both know that you would follow me, unless I asked you not to…' He nodded subtly, his face set in the mask she knew was covering so much of what he was feeling.
'What about Agnes?' he asked abruptly, forcing a subject change.
'I've asked Scottie to take care of her for the time being…' She told him as she watched his features darken.
'You've entrusted Agnes to Scottie Hargrave?' He asked incredulously, cocking his head to the side and screwing up his features,
'Yes…' She turned from him, folding into herself slightly. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, shoulders turned inward. 'To Tom's mother…' She carefully walked away from him.
'Who ordered a hit on your wedding.' He argued, watching her move guardedly across the room. She prickled slightly at the mention of their wedding. Dembe opened the door, coming inside to grab another box to take downstairs. He looked toward him for a moment.
'She didn't know who we were.' She turned back to him and he to her, his hands loose by his side. 'She's a good person, and she'll keep Agnes safe…' She nodded, looking at him, her eye brows raised still hugging herself defensively.
'Look, I know you took care of her while I was recovering, and I can't thank you enough for that…' She explained, his face was set in stone. He raised his chin, watching her as she continued 'But this is my decision. And I need you to respect that.' She nodded her intention.
'Okay, I will…' He nodded agreeing reluctantly. 'I want you to promise me something.' He asked, this time she raised her chin along with her eyebrows, wondering if this was when the other shoe dropped because he had agreed to all her terms far too readily.
'What?' She asked her mouth open, preparing herself.
'That you'll grieve…' He said simply watching her face darkened, her features falling.
'Of course I'll grieve…' She stated, frowning at him, 'What is it that you think I'm doing?' She asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
'I think you're running away from your problems, when you should be facing them.' He avoided her eye, looking around for a moment before nodding once. She pursed her lips then wet them with the tip of her tongue, she took a breath. Here it was. She looked away letting her arms drop, 'I'm sure it feels like you're staring into an abyss, but until you mourn, you won't be able to cross it.' He told her as she turned back to face him.
'What's so great about crossing it? What's on the other side? Peace? Tranquility?' She scoffed, her tone tired and exasperated, her patience waining.
'Some.' He told her matter of factly, slightly smug she thought.
'I prefer revenge….' She scoffed, her eyes hardened.
'That's what I'm afraid of.' He told her simply.
'Really? You've got a funny way of showing it. You'd be the first person to exact revenge if anyone so much as crossed you.' She told him letting out a huffy breath, her tone rising before dropping low. 'Imagining what I'm gonna do to Tom's killers it's the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning because I'm damn sure there's nothing else.' She threw at him, her face shadowed. She saw his expression change, the smallest glimpse of a reaction to her words. His chin lifted before his mask fell back into place.
'Don't just go off and hide in the dark.' He said, squinting and throwing an arm out indicating to wherever she was going. 'Wherever you go, look for some light.'
She folded her arms across her chest, as Dembe entered into an awkward silence. For a moment she couldn't meet his eye.
'I thought maybe there was some light.' She told him as Dembe left, 'But I guess I was mistaken…'
She'd been living a lonely existence in a small cabin in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness for almost a year. She was alone but not lonely. She adopted a dog, she'd named Kate and that was enough, that and dealing with the odd local of the nearby town. She had assumed an identity that wasn't Elizabeth Keen, becoming someone else who was a guarded loner and who could manage by herself. Leaving had left her with a strange sense of agency over her life. One that she probably hadn't ever experienced but an agency she relished in. For once she felt in control of her life, she didn't have to answer to anyone and she did what she wanted when she wanted. There was no one second guessing her, she didn't doubt herself she just got on with what had to be done. More importantly there was no one watching, at first she had doubted that he would leave her truly alone but as the weeks went by, she became less vigilant. She learnt how to fix a generator, learnt how to chop wood successfully even when it aggravated her recovering shoulders. She began jogging and then running which gave her an immense sense of freedom. She still battled fatigue daily, battled pain daily but she was getting flashbacks were ever present but she now knew how to manage them. When she woke in the night after a nightmare, now she reached out for Kate, listening to her soft breathing until her heart beat returned to normal. She thought of her old life often, aspects she missed but some she didn't. The noise of the city was a distant memory, there was nothing out there but bird song and animal calls in the woods. She did think of him often, he'd left an aching wound that slowly began to dissipate. Of how he could really be in those private moments they'd spent together.
Trouble came on the afternoon of the first ice storm of the season, she had tinkered with her stubborn generator going into town for parts then coming back to a lunch of soup when Kate had started barking. She found the man outside, passed out and severely injured. She'd brought him inside tending to his wounds, high alert creeping back into her body. If she had learnt anything from Reddington, it was that she was capable. When the other men had shown up, she had instantly known something was wrong.
She was walking along a main road, looking to hitch, cars were passing but so far no one had stopped. Had she planned to kill them? Looking back she wasn't sure. The situation had become untenable and she did what she had to do, would another Elizabeth Keen have killed them? Probably not.
'You're dead.' The man's threatening words echoed in her brain,
'No, Bill… For the first time, I'm feeling pretty alive…' And she was in that moment as she felt her heart beating, for the first time in almost a year she truly felt alive.
'So, if you want to come for me you better come ready for a fight. because you know what the four of you against me in the woods is gonna be? Practice.' She had finished, it had ignited a determination that had long since been dormant and a power that she revelled in. She dispatched of them pretty quickly, killed all of them and hadn't until now thought about it. She'd covered her tracks, cleaned the cabin and left no trace. She had excelled at it, feeling empowered now just thinking about it.
Once back in DC she went straight to the storage facility where her belongings were being kept, she took anything that related to Tom's murder before heading back to the apartment. She stood in the doorway, apprehension trying to claw itself under her skin but she ignored it stepping into the apartment. She opened the boxes she'd brought up and spread everything out on the floor, organising them into small piles, determination igniting within her as she analysed the photos.
Later she stood outside apartment 9A in a swanky apartment building. Apprehension again washing over her. She took a breath and knocked,
'Elizabeth. Please, come in.' Dembe answered the door, surprise in his voice. She didn't say anything but stepped inside, her nostrils flaring slightly. Dembe watched her as she passed, assessing her. She entered the living space, looking around for him for a moment before turning a corner into the lightness of the room. He was stood by the large windows, a look of happy surprise on his face. She stood where she was for the moment, their eyes meeting, her mouth curving upward into a small smile. He heart fluttered, a slight awkward air falling over the room. She felt the tether between pull taut, tugging slightly as she watched him.
'You look… Strong.' He commented, a million other words flitting through his head but none would come to the surface. She looked beautiful, her hair was loose with a slight curl at the ends, her eyes bright and shining back at him.
'I'm healed…' She said simply. 'I want to thank you…' Continuing to maintain eye contact.
'What for?' He asked as she watched him.
'For honouring your promise…. I know it wasn't easy.' She shook her head slightly, not taking her eyes from his.
'It was what you wanted.' He began to walk over, her stomach dipped as he approached.
'I also want to apologise…' She told him, his eyebrows were raised, his mouth slightly open. He stopped a few steps away, his familiar scent washing over her.
'Why?' He asked, his arms loose by his side.
'I couldn't honour mine…' She whispered, a slight break in her voice.
'Oh…' Her eyes shone back at him as she shook her head.
'I tried…' She pursed her lips together, nodding briefly. 'I really did…' She told him emphatically, her head cocked to the side. 'I didn't go looking for trouble….' She shook her head again, 'But it found me. And I'm glad it did.'
'What happened?' He asked, his face serious as he nodded back at her.
'I killed some men…' She paused, looking away unable to meet his eye, shaking her head. Did she want his approval or his condemnation? 'Doesn't matter that they were bad. That it was them or me. What matters is that I did it and I was good at it. And I didn't lose any sleep over it…' She told him, her own face now serious as she looked back at him.
'You will…' He nodded, 'One of these nights you will…' He smiled then, 'It's just a matter of when.' He finished knowingly.
'Maybe…' She whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. 'Later…' She paused, 'After I've crossed the abyss…' She told him echoing his words from the day she left, her tone lightening as she smiled back at him. 'But from the side I'm on now, all that matters is that I'm healed and…I'm back…' Determination filled her voice 'And I'm coming for Tom's killers…' Her tone hardened.
'Like I said, I couldn't keep my promise. Can you forgive me?' She asked her voice softening as emotion played across her face. He crossed the gap between them, reaching up to hold her face in his hands, she studied him for a moment, knowing what was coming. She looked down as he brought her to him, kissing her temple. She wanted his arms around her then, to feel him hold her once again, that tether between them tightening. He stepped back running his fingers through her hair as he let her go.
'Yes…' He said simply, she could see he was fighting his own emotions but he met her eye, his eyebrows raised and smiled back at her. 'Will you be able to forgive yourself?' He asked, her eyes shining, her stomach dipped, a lumping rising in her throat.
Her chin trembled slightly as she fought back the tears, 'Eventually…' She whispered bridging the gap between them, her arms slipping around his neck as she pulled him towards her. His arms wrapped around the small of her back. She breathed in deeply, her nose against his shoulder as her eyes slipped closed. She was home.
