I Have To Make an End So We Begin…
A/N: References to 5x14, mentions 2x22. I wanted to do a couple of Liz's therapy sessions with Selma and I thought they fit in with her sessions with Dr Fulton in 5x14-16. There is no gap between last chapter and this. 1 of 3 Parts?
Song is: Beautiful Crime - Tamer which came from this vid:
/4LnDQAuXHlA
Part One: To Save My Soul At Any Cost…
'Where does he get off?' Elizabeth asked angrily, standing in Doctor Orchard's office, her back towards the older woman as she stared out the window, a rage creeping up her spine. She'd been seeing Doctor Orchard since her return from Alaska, the woman knew more than than Elizabeth would have liked but she also knew she could be trusted. That said she hadn't as yet broached the Narravo incident. Reddington's evasiveness had her wound up and the audacity of his visit the previous night had burrowed its way under her skin.
'Let's back up a little… What happened exactly?' Selma asked, sitting where she usually sat, opposite her desk in the chairs she had set up to face each other, a notepad and pen resting against her lap.
'He knows why Tom was killed. He said as much and then had to nerve to imply that it was Tom's fault for not listening to his warning. He won't tell me why, only that it's about him and it's none of my business. Yet he's supposed to be my father and Tom was my husband who died trying to tell me this stupid secret. He let himself into my apartment when I was taking a bath, practically accosted me… Said he wanted to talk then refused to say much of anything.' Elizabeth turned towards the other woman voicing her frustration, taking a sip of coffee from the takeaway cup in her hand. She eyed the chair opposite the doctor but chose to remain standing.
'There's a lot to unpack there.' Selma smiled, 'Let's start why you said Reddington is your supposed father, do you still feel disconnected from him?' Elizabeth let out a long breath.
'I wasn't then he does something that pushes me further away…' She moved around the coffee table by the window, perching on the edge of the seat opposite Selma. 'I asked him outright if he knew anything about what Tom had discovered and he refused to answer, then I found out he does. He keeps everything so closely guarded, like anything I might possibly find out would be detrimental to our relationship but he doesn't see by keeping all these secrets, he's just pushing me further away.' Her voice cracked slightly but she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. She crossed the space coming to settle opposite Selma.
'I'm guessing, he's used to being so closely guarded in his line of work… But if you are his daughter, you'd think that he would want you to get to know him. Sometimes its hard to break that pattern of behaviour.' She hypothesised gently. Elizabeth avoided her eye, playing with the zipper on her jacket.
'I realise that but he's also seen what keeping secrets does to me, he can't be blind to the fact that it does hurt me, I've said as much. Everything that he's kept always comes back to me or my mother, yet I always seem to forgive him and expect differently from him…' She looked away toward the window, tears spilling. She swallowed wiping them away.
'Why do you think that is?' Selma asked gently, trying to catch her eye.
'Because I want to believe that he can change, that he wants a relationship with me and I know he does but he also can't or won't include me in his 'secrets'…' She said using air quotations, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
'You don't think you'd keep secrets from Agnes?' Selma asked softly, jotting down a few notes on her pad. She watched Elizabeth take a deep breath.
'No, I mean age appropriate ones maybe. One day I want to tell her everything, give her the courtesy of knowing that I love and trust her. If she asked me questions about her life, her family I would like to think I'd answer them honestly. I want her to know that I left her with her Grandmother to protect her…' She pushed herself further back into the chair, pulling out a cushion from behind her and hugged it.
'Isn't that what he claims he and your mother did?' The older woman asked, catching Elizabeth's eye, she smiled kindly.
'Yes… But I'm not going to be evasive and lie to Agnes either. I want to prepare her, for her to know her history without all the baggage that he seems to want to dump on me.' Her voice rose before breaking. Selma reached over to the table to retrieve the box of Kleenex before offering the box to Elizabeth.
'Baggage?' She asked as Elizabeth took a tissue and handed back the box. She dabbed the corners of her eyes.
'I don't want her to feel abandoned…' She said hoarsely, struggling with the welling emotion inside her.
'Like you do?' Selma asked, Elizabeth didn't look up at her, she nodded before saying,
'Isn't that what they did, regardless of whether it was to protect me, they still left… He could've made contact at anytime yet he chose not to, he could've let me know him before now, when I was growing up…' Selma nodded jotting down something on her notepad.
She broke eye contact then said, 'Do you think that was also to protect you?'
Elizabeth shrugged, 'He watched instead, like some creepy voyeur. He was around, he watched me grow up without involvement and thats somehow worse because my Dad knew, he knew who Red was and never told me.' Anger creeping into her tone, she swiped at an errant tear.
'Do you resent that?' Selma asked, watching a flush creep across Elizabeth's cheeks.
'Yes! Of course… I wish he were alive so I could yell at him, at least I know he would be straight with me…' She prickled, her hackles raised. She sat up straight, her eyes boring into the brown of Doctor Orchard's.
'Do you think he would, he kept Reddington's secrets all your life?' She asked gently, her tone not differing, she knew Elizabeth was angry but she also knew she had a right to be.
'I would like to think that if he was confronted with me asking him and seeing all the hurt it's caused then yes… Red knows everything, everything and yet he keeps so many things from me. He won't even talk about my mother.' She sat back deflated, letting out a long breath.
'What do you remember about her?' Selma asked, her tone still soft and calming.
'Only the memories that you helped recovered, the fire. I remembered pieces a while ago but they fade so quickly' She recalled, gazing toward the window.
'That must be hard, knowing that he took even that memory from you…' Selma watched Elizabeth's face darken her eyes widened slightly before narrowing,
'I hadn't really thought of it like that before, I've replayed those memories so many times, the fire, the gun, me shooting him?' She frowned, a far away look in her eye.
'What's going through your mind right now?' Selma asked watching Elizabeth come back to herself.
'That it doesn't feel like I shot him. He was there but… It feels like I shot someone else?' She frowned,
'I don't think we've talked about how that made you feel, him taking away those memories from you?'
Elizabeth squirmed for a moment, 'I mean rationally I understand why he did it, he wanted me to forget shooting him?' She took a breath, 'But it still feels like a violation…'
Selma nodded, 'Why did that sound like a question?'
'Because it's still feels disjointed, I don't feel like I can connect the two, shooting him and him supposedly being my father. It doesn't make sense in my brain. He took me out of there so how could I have shot him?' She took a breath frowning, her mind elsewhere.
'He kind of did me a favour really…' She murmured absently.
'Who?' Selma asked frowning, not following her train of thought.
'Braxton' She watched the older woman visibly blanch. 'I'm sorry, I'm sure you must have your own issues with him. If it helps at all, the man is probably dead.' She added, her tone lighter.
'What makes you say that?' The older woman asked, her brows raised in question. She held Elizabeth's gaze as she sat back in the chair.
'Reddington doesn't take kindly to people hurting me.' She answered honestly, playing with the edge of the cushion she was hugging.
'But he's happy to do it himself?' Selma asked observing Elizabeth squirm slightly, her hands stilled against the corner of the cushion before her eyes raised to meet the Doctor's own.
'I don't think he's happy doing it. I just don't think he realises, maybe?' She answered meeting the woman's gaze.
'Do you feel like you have to defend him?' Selma asked her tone lighter now that they had steered away from Braxton.
'I guess…' She shrugged, 'I don't know, isn't that what you're supposed to do?' She stammered slightly thinking back. She looked away, down at her busy fingers. Did she often defend him?
'I don't think you're necessarily supposed to do anything. Some actions can be excused but repeated behaviours that hurt you, no.' Selma told her, their eyes meeting once again.
'I really don't think he realises, we don't often talk about how it makes me feel…' Elizabeth added again jumping to his defence. It was the truth that they didn't actually talk about how any of this affected her but she also hadn't shied away from voicing her annoyance. The hurt and pain on the other hand, perhaps she didn't want him to perceive her as being weak
'Would you like that to change?' Selma questioned, writing down something on her notepad.
'I don't know, what would it really change? He seems to set on keeping his secrets. It just frustrates me. Like I just keep banging up against a wall all the time. He won't let me in. It's been five years of me constantly banging on that wall. I'm tired of it. Nothing I do seems to make any difference.' Elizabeth told her, deflating against the back of the chair. She ran her fingers through her hair, twisting the long strands together before pulling it over one of her shoulders.
'Perhaps its not for you to keep knocking… You can only do so much pushing before someone just clams up completely.' Selma nodded slightly, her chin downturned with her eyes lifted towards Elizabeth.
'Oh I am well aware...' She began bitterly, 'But he doesn't like me ignoring him either. Like I did last night. He won't leave it if he thinks I'm angry with him.' She informed the older woman. 'He would be happy if I never asked any questions at all, if I never dug any deeper than the surface. if we could ignore the past but I can't…' She said as an after thought.
'Do you think he's afraid of losing you?' Selma asked, her brows raised.
'Yeah, of course but he also doesn't see that if he pushes me too much then that's what's going to happen because I don't know how much more I can take.' She voiced honestly, her fingers stilling for a moment against the cushion. 'I left once, after Agnes was born and I didn't think it through properly. I know that hurt him deeply. I'm sure he worries that I will do something like that again.' Elizabeth skirted the issue not wanting to get into the whole faking her death incident. That could wait for another time.
'It's difficult with someone who can't or won't communicate…' Selma added knowingly.
'Maybe I shouldn't have left for Alaska…' Elizabeth said absently, voicing her thoughts aloud.
'You needed that time to recover?' The Doctor added objectively.
'Yes… But I also think maybe he saw it as me pushing him away. It's not been the same since. That closeness we had, that ease of being together, it's gone.'
'Do you think that if you'd stayed that closeness would have grown?'
'If I'd continued living with him, yes. Would he have opened up more? I don't know.' She added honestly. Watching the leaves dance in the wind outside.
'We're nearly out of time, how do you feel about your 'Fitness for Duty Evaluation tomorrow?' Selma asked changing the subject.
'I don't know, it's a means to an end.' Elizabeth shrugged, her eyes returning to the brown of the Doctors.
'You're still intent on revenge?' Selma asked, watching Elizabeth's body still completely.
'I should go…' She said, gathering up her coat and inching forward in the chair. She placed the cushion behind her and reached for her bag.
'You know we can talk about those feelings, there's nothing wrong with them.' Selma reached for her arm, stilling her movements.
'Maybe next time…' Elizabeth told her, a small smile on her lips as she rose to stand.
The first session with Doctor Fulton had been eye opening at best, the woman had been intimidating. Sitting in her chair with a smile on her face. Talking about Agnes and Tom had been difficult and Elizabeth had resisted the urge to squirm, putting a mask on her face so as not to betray anything. She stroked the long scar on the inside of her wrist for courage and comfort. She tried to be honest as best she could, give a little but not too much. She needed this woman to get her badge back but that's as far as it went but as the session went on, she was beginning to realise that it wouldn't be that simple. The subject of Reddington had been more difficult, this wasn't Dr Orchard, they hadn't built up a rapport or even any trust at this point. She knew Reddington would not be happy being the topic of conversation but the woman didn't seem to want to let the subject drop, going as far as suggesting a joint session. Elizabeth had openly laughed at the image it created in her mind, of the two of them sat in her office hashing it out in front of the good doctor. She'd made an appointment to see Selma as soon as she'd left. She could feel the familiar panic settling in her chest, creeping it's fingers around her ribs. She tried not to sound it on the phone but her voice shook a little and she was sure Selma would know but first she had to get through asking Reddington to meet with Fulton.
She waited at a table in the wine bar he'd chosen to meet at, trying to quell the nerves in her stomach and the panic in her chest. He said he'd like therapy, given her some anecdotal story about it that very morning so convincing him to go with her should be easy. She almost laughed to herself as she saw the black car pull up out front. Nothing with Reddington was ever easy.
He stepped through the door locking eyes with her as he stood for a moment wiping his shoes. He smiled, the kind of smile only reserved for her and it settled the nerves slightly. Warmth spreading through her chest.
'I need to ask you something and you're not going to like it…' She started as he approached. He frowned wiping away any trace of a smile. He came to a stop in front of her, cocking his head to the side before she continued. 'I need you to come to therapy with me…' She folded her arms across her chest.
'What? Wait. I…I'm confused. I don't… I have nothing to do with your reinstatement.' He spluttered, standing over the table where she sat, looking down at her.
'My therapist disagrees. And it's up to her. Besides, I thought you liked therapy?' She tried to lighten the situation, a smile on her lips.
'It can be transformative for people who need it….' He settled in the seat beside her. 'We don't.' He affirmed, lifting a hand to signify the matter.
She hadn't told him about seeing Selma since she'd been back, although he probably knew she suspected. She needed Selma and she needed Fulton both for very different reasons. Selma had kept her sane for one and Fulton was a means to an end.
'If Singleton works with Tom's killer…' She leant forward, moving closer as he squinted at her. 'If they're both on the force, we're gonna need the Bureau's help… And to get that, I need my badge. And to get that, you need to go to therapy….' She paused, her eyes intently focused on his as he watched her. 'Reddington, please…' She frowned, cocking her head to the side, in a silent plea. 'Singleton was in my apartment…'
'That won't happen again.' He told her firmly, nodding his head. He looked away before turning back to her.
'You don't know that…' She frowned back at him, her eyes pleading.
'Yes. I do….' He nodded as he looked away, then shook his head as he rose to stand. He let out an annoyed breath, turning to leave. 'Text Dembe the time and place.' He told her as he walked away, placing his hat back on his head.
A few hours later Reddington had called to say that he wouldn't be going to Fulton's office and they would pick Elizabeth up in half an hour to meet with the woman.
'What do you mean you won't go to her office, why not?' Elizabeth asked annoyance in her tone, her gloved fingers gripping the phone tightly.
'I am not sitting down with the woman in an office which hasn't been vetted…' His voice was firm against her ear.
'You sound paranoid.' Elizabeth let out a breath, squeezing her eyes shut panic fluttering in her chest, she rubbed her temple with her free hand.
'It's only paranoia if you aren't right and I am. Always.' He told as she rolled her eyes. 'Besides I have far too much to do and it won't take very long I suspect.'
'You don't know that, she wanted a proper conversation, not five minutes of your time?' She argued back. 'I can arrange for us to meet at the Black Site, or somewhere else? Please. This is important.' She argued back.
'Oh I know it is but we will do this my way. I won't told what to do by some quack.' He added an edge to his voice.
'She's not some quack. She's a qualified FBI doctor and I'm the one asking you now, not her. I need you to do this, for me, please.' The line went silent for a moment.
'We will pick you up and we will do this my way, Elizabeth.' He told her firmly before the line went dead.
It was late when Selma opened the door, greeting Elizabeth who had an air of agitation about her. She'd come straight from Fulton's office after their last session of the day. She was tired and frustrated by Fulton holding up her mission. She bypassed the chairs and went straight to the window, watching the street below. She waited for Selma to take her seat indicating she was ready to begin before she let out an annoyed huff,
'She had the audacity to say that I embraced his sins, that we were some modern day Bonnie and Clyde by going on the run together.'
'Doctor Fulton?' Selma asked, Elizabeth nodded, half turning toward the older woman. 'You don't think you embrace your father's sins?'
'I'm an FBI agent.' Elizabeth stated indignantly, brisling at the insinuation. 'He's the Concierge of Crime. She's acting like he raised me in his image.'
'You don't think he's shaped your life these past five years?'
'Of course he has but he didn't raise me in his image, he didn't raise me at all. He had nothing to do with how I was raised and for her to claim otherwise…' Elizabeth turned back toward her, her eyes flashing in anger.
'Discredits the man who actually raised you?' Selma added watching Elizabeth's agitated frame.
'Yes…' She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. 'I don't like her insinuation. I can admit that we are similar in some ways but he is separate from me, if he is my father its by DNA alone. These past few years don't make up for the fact that he essentially abandoned me.' She shrugged off her coat and placed it across the back of the vacant chair before turning back to the window.
'Do you want to talk about that abandonment?' Selma asked as Elizabeth shook her head. She came to sit across from Selma, taking up the cushion before sitting down. She took one of the corners between her fingers feeling the fabric.
'Okay, lets circle back around. Doctor Fulton brought up the fact that you shot the Attorney General and then went on the run with Mr Reddington.' Selma broached, watching Elizabeth bristle, her hands playing with the edge of the cushion in her lap.
Elizabeth let out a huffy breath, 'Technically yes'
'But?' Selma asked her brows raised in question.
Elizabeth shrugged, 'I feel disconnected from that time. So much has happened since then sometimes it doesn't feel real.'
'Why do you think Mr Reddington went with you at that time. I mean he had just set up a deal with the FBI, he was working with them and he dropped it all to go with you?' She questioned, their eyes meeting.
'I don't think it mattered to him. He made the deal to work with me and if I wasn't there… He was very emphatic that it only worked with me. I don't think it even entered his head to let me go alone.' She mused absently, not meeting the Doctor's eye.
'Are you glad he didn't?' Selma asked, watching Elizabeth fidget in her seat.
'Yes. I'm not sure how I would have survived if it hadn't been for him.' She admitted quietly.
'And how was it being on the run with him?' She asked watching Elizabeth freeze for a moment. 'Did you worry that he would abandon you then?'
'No. I never doubted him. But back then I hadn't seen the DNA test, I didn't know.' Elizabeth told her, her eyes lifting to the brown of the Doctor's.
'But you never feared he would leave you?'
'Maybe once briefly when he had been taken by some guys but I knew in my gut that he wouldn't have just left, that something must have happened.' She told her, their eyes connecting as Elizabeth's fingers stilled against the cushion.
'So you trusted him then.' Selma asked, writing in her notepad.
'Yes I trusted him, we were closer then. I knew he had my back and none of this other bullshit had been happened yet. Things seemed simpler even if they were chaotic and terrifying, I still knew he wouldn't let anything bad happen to me… Now all he seems to do is hide things from me and push me away.' She let out a breath, her brow creasing in frustration.
'May I ask you something that you may not like?' Selma asked. Elizabeth inclined her head, pushing a few strands of hair away from her face.
'Was the Attorney General's the first life you intentionally took? Selma asked, she watched Elizabeth stiffen, she was silent her eyes unfocused as she thought back to that time.
'Apart from when the job required it I mean, I'm not sure if you intentionally set out to kill him…' She clarified watching Elizabeth's changing micro expressions.
'I didn't, I didn't go in there consciously thinking I would kill him but in that moment when he threatened all of us… Maybe I didn't think there was choice. It was after we had been taken by Braxton. I don't think I told you this but after I shot Connolly, all of my memories from the night of the fire returned.'
'You had a flashback when you shot him?' Selma asked eyebrows raised, her interest piqued.
'Yes, suddenly the whole memory came back and I saw myself shooting my father, the fire, being led away…'
'Do you think that might have affected your decision in that moment?' Selma asked, giving her the option for defence.
Elizabeth shrugged again, 'Maybe subconsciously? The flashback started after I fired.'
'This is why you are confused about the DNA test? Because you saw yourself shooting who you knew to be your father but you also saw Mr Reddington taking you out of the burning building?' Selma asked, putting the pieces together.
'Yes…' Elizabeth shrugged, that's the only confusion. The rest is crystal clear. Everything fell into place.' She said with surety. 'Do you think I can trust what I saw?' She asked then, a frown consuming her beautiful face.
'I certainly think that if you felt like everything fell into place then yes. We opened a door in your mind when we got taken by Braxton. I think it makes sense for the whole thing to come back when you pulled the trigger.' Selma assured her with a smile.
'We have ten minutes left, how did you leave things with Doctor Fulton?'
'I have another session tomorrow. She said that if I want closure then I have to think about the part I played in Tom's death and the part that Reddington played. She thinks I think it's complicated…' Elizabeth reiterated their last conversation.
'You don't think it's complicated?' She asked, a frown on her brow as she jotted notes on her pad.
'It's only complicated by the fact that Reddington knows the truth and he's intent on keeping it from me. The reckoning as she put it, lies in that but I can't tell her that because it would be a bigger conversation. I have looked at my role, I've looked at his role but the truth is that if he hadn't shot those five men that night, I'd be dead as well.' Elizabeth clarified, her eyes alight.
Later she was laying in the tub her eyes closed when her phone began to vibrate against the porcelain of the sink. She reached over, grabbing it a scowl on her face as she saw who it was.
'What is it with you and interrupting my bath time?' She answered, an edge of annoyance in her tone. She leaned back, sliding down the tub so her head rested against the edge and her arm could rest against the side, the phone to her ear.
'I was merely calling to check in…' He replied, ignoring her tone. His voice masked from any emotion he might have felt. 'Did Fulton reinstate you?' He asked,
'No. She wants to see me again and I suspect it will be a few more sessions after that.' She clarified, letting out a sigh.
'How was it left?' He asked, an edge to his voice at the woman's interference.
'She thinks there needs to be a reckoning, that I need to address the part that you and I played in Tom's death.' She could almost hear his features darkening. 'But I don't think you're willing to do that, are you?' She asked then, annoyance edging her voice.
'I had nothing to do with it Elizabeth.' He began, his tone icy.
'Except you had everything to do with it,' She interrupted, her tone equally cold. 'Perhaps we aren't able to move forward because you aren't willing to accept your role in all of it.'
'What have you told Fulton.' He asked abruptly, she could hear his scowl.
'Nothing to do with that in any case. She knows you probably killed the men in my apartment that night but I didn't confirm it and I didn't acknowledge it either.'
'Be very careful Elizabeth…' He warned, his tone sharp.
'Of what exactly? You? At this point I don't think you're willing to do anything to stop me. We need my badge back, whether you're on my side or not that remains to be seen…' She ended the call, half expecting him to show up in half an hour. She refused to allow his gall to interrupt her alone time. She needed to decompress, there had been too much talking, too much going over what had happened and too much talk about how she felt. She just wanted to forget it it all so she slid under the water, watching her hair float around her before closing her eyes, a sense of calm washing over her.