I Fear The Fall And Where We'll Land…

A/N: Spoilers for 5x16 - The Capricorn Killer. Set after the last chapter, mixed POV with some pining from Red. Soft fluff and angst.

I wanted to begin with Red's POV to Lizzy falling asleep on him so enjoy some angsty fluff before they go back to ignoring their feelings and Red double crosses her. FFS Red. Mixed POV.

This chapter was annoying me and I wanted to go in different directions with it. There was also A LOT I wanted to address from this episode. Red's pining filled up my word count so this chapter is longer. I've given Selma a rest for now as Fulton features a bit in this one.

I rewatched the first scene with Liz and Fulton several times and I'm convinced that Liz has Navarro in her mind and she's trying to talk about it. She is capable of doing those things and she knows it.

Mentions of 'These Moving Parts…' So read that first if you haven't.

Song is: Beautiful Crime - Tamer which came from this vid: /4LnDQAuXHlA

Part Three: When The Sun Sets We're Both The Same…

In the darkness of her bedroom, he listened to her soft breathing even out. He stroked her hair, cradling her head in his hand. He closed his eyes, revelling in her physical presence and breathed in the floral scent of her hair. He pressed his lips to her forehead taking another breath, stroking down the length of her deliciously soft hair. From this position he couldn't see her face, he pulled back slightly, dislodging her face from his neck. She whimpered softly, the absence of his warmth disturbing her. Her muscles tensed against him, not wanting to let go. He smoothed back her hair, shushing her back into peacefulness. In the darkness he watched her sleep, a frown etching her brow, her fists clenched into his shirt as she clung to him. For a moment his mind allowed him to believe they were still in that house by the lake, in his bed or hers. He gently stroked her features, her brow smoothing out under his fingers. Her lips parted, her head tiled back slightly against his shoulder. He ran a gentle finger across her bottom lip watching her stir, she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth before letting it go, it glistened invitingly.

Fear suddenly gripped him as he remembered the soft kiss she'd left against his mouth. Did she know the truth and if she did why hadn't she said anything? He didn't want to continue this charade, why had he even allowed her to think he was her father in the first place? To cloak yet another secret she hated him for. He knew he was pushing her too far, pushing her to hate him but her knowing the truth was unfathomable to him. She would hate him more but he had to tell her, he had to find some way to deny this parental responsibility he had somehow been landed with. If she knew already maybe he could somehow get her to confront him about it. Would he remain mute like he had so many times in the face of her rage? In her sleep she moaned softly, the frown returning as she pulled herself back into him. Her head tucked back into his neck, her body moulding further into his as she draped her leg to across his hips. Her fingers loosened, moving across his chest to the opening of his shirt, her fingers sliding beneath the fabric to cup his neck. He was startled by the closeness, his fingers itching to glide up her bare thigh. He tightened his grip around her but his fingers remained motionless. He closed his eyes, his breath matching hers.

The soft buzzing of his phone against his thigh roused him from semi unconsciousness, he reached down grazing her calf and ankle. Something stirred in the pit of his belly erupting in a light fluttering. He retrieved his phone, flipping it open. He squinted at the sudden brightness, his eyes taking their time to focus on the message. 'Everything okay? - Dembe.' He typed slowly with one hand asking for a few moments longer then apologised for making Dembe wait. He couldn't to leave her warm embrace just yet. He drifted to the feeling of her warm breaths against his neck. He moved his arm adjusting his position under her weight, running his fingers through her hair, across her bare shoulder, down her side where his hand settled against the softness of her exposed hip.

He committed the feel of her body against his to memory, the way she smelled, the feel of her leg across his abdomen, her nose pressed into his neck, the feel of her fingers against the bare skin of his chest. He couldn't leave her, not now. He drifted, half awake and half asleep. He saw her at the house by the lake, her face pale, her legs withered from lack of use. He felt her lean into him, the need she felt for him during those long months of recovery. He dreamt of her silence and the moment he heard her voice again, the joy he felt hearing his name against her lips. The first time he saw her smile again, the first time he made her laugh again. His phone buzzed against his hand rousing him again, he let out an irritated sigh flicking open the phone. 'Raymond, we should go… Dembe' His time was never his own but he knew the younger man was right. Dawn was approaching and he could see the lightening of the sky between the edges of the curtains. He gently gripped her thigh, moving it away from his body immediately missing its weight against him.

Slowly he began to extricate himself, he moved her arm, her fingers leaving phantom imprints against his skin. Her head tilted back against his shoulder as he moved his stiff body to the side, rolling her with him until her head fell gently back against the pillow. He cupped her head, allowing his stiff arm release. Her face creased as she let out a soft moan, goosebumps ran across her skin at the sudden removal of his body's warmth. He pulled the blankets up, laying beside her a few moments longer, committing her sleeping face to memory. He ran his fingers across her brow erasing the frown then down the side of her face. The lightening sky casting a soft light against her skin, to him she was perfect even at her worst when she would rage against him with her face screwed up in anger, her skin flushed she was still impossibly beautiful. Would she ever truly know what she meant to him? He leaned over, his lips pressed into her temple. He ran his nose against the softness of her face, breathing her in as he moved across her cheekbone. 'Lizzy' he whispered against her, she stirred, her mouth twitching at the corners in what looked to him like the beginnings of a smile. He steeled himself letting go, he rolled over swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He ran a hand across his own face, something unknown clenching in his chest. He rose, smoothing out his crumpled shirt before turning to look down on her for a moment. He pulled the blanket up further, tucking her arms beneath, he leant over his mouth pressing a soft kiss to the same place she had bestowed one upon him. His jaw clenched, his heart constricting as he pulled away. He collected his shoes, coat and hat then padded quietly towards the door.

When she woke the next morning, she reached out a hand feeling the cold empty space where he should've been. She leant over, the pillow still indented and pressed her face into it. She breathed in his familiar scent, a weight settled in her chest and the clawing fingers of anger prickled under her skin. She rubbed her eyes, her head was stuffy from crying so much, she didn't know why she expected him to be there but when she saw that empty space she ached with disappointment. Maybe she thought they'd turned a corner or maybe it was just the presence of false hope.

She left in a hurry, downing half a mug of lukewarm coffee unable to sit around with her thoughts any longer. If it wasn't Reddington haunting her, it was Garvey. She sat in her car outside the church watching the funeral procession for Detective Singleton. She was literally shaking, her fingers clenching and unclenching against the steering wheel. She watched Garvey bring out the coffin with other officers and place it into the back of the hearse. He turned to Singleton's daughters, touching their faces before turning to Singleton's ex-wife. Her lip curled in a snarl, silent rage sending goosebumps up her spine and across her scalp. The gall of the man rivalled Reddington's and that was saying something. She itched to go over there, make a scene, place the man in handcuffs anything to not be sat here with her feelings. She couldn't go to the burial and watch anymore of the man's mockery.

Rage still prickled under her skin as she headed for elevator at the Post Office, she saw his hat before anything else and her stomach flipped as his cologne wafted in his wake. He turned seeing her for the first time as Dembe held the door for her. Their eyes locked as she approached. Suddenly everything seemed to evaporate, all thought, all feeling, the rage had ceased as she stood inches away from him. She wanted to melt into him, pull his arms around her and bury her face in the folds of his suit. Make him take her home where they could forget everything and be alone.

'Good Morning Elizabeth…' He said brightly snapping her out of her reverie. Her eyes cast a glance towards him and she half smiled. 'You look well rested…' He quipped and sudden irritation descended upon her. The elevator pulled to a stop and he took a step towards the door.

'You couldn't have said goodbye?' She growled softly as he held the door for her. She didn't wait for a reply, she headed for Cooper's office.

'He went to his funeral. He was a pallbearer. A pallbearer!' She exclaimed standing in front of Cooper's desk. Her rage apparent. Reddington sat down in his usual seat, his mask in place while Dembe stood on alert by the door.

'And while he was doing that, a witness came forward who saw Garvey kill Singleton.' Cooper informed them, sitting behind his desk.

'Well, I saw Garvey kill Tom. A lot of good that did me…' She threw out, pursing her lips, perhaps more passive aggressive then she intended but her aim was clear as Reddington side eyed her from his seat. She felt his gaze fall on her but she remained focused on Cooper.

'I've already referred Garvey's case to the Marshal's Office of Internal Affairs. And now this. It's a big break. It's okay to get your hopes up.' Cooper enthused, looking up at her smiling. Her arms were folded across her chest defensively. She couldn't allow her hopes to be raised, not yet.

'You've spoken to this witness? Is he credible? 'Cause if he is, then my testimony…' Elizabeth raised, her eyes darting from Cooper to Reddington as she spoke.

'Will also be credible. Any questions about your memory will go away. So will Mr Garvey.' He told them, apparently changing his tune about her ten month coma and her memory.

'And you want that?' She asked him, her hand propping her against Coopers desk she turned towards him. Her brows were raised, her eyes shining back at him. Half knowing what his response would be.

'Not until I get what I want.' He stated simply, his eyes fixed with hers. Her heart sank with disappointment.

'I told him about the duffel bag.' She told Reddington almost sheepishly waiting to see what he would say.

'Garvey provides protection for the Nash Syndicate. I know some of the players. I'll shake them loose while the Task Force questions the witness.' Reddington added ignoring her comment. His hard gaze on her before turning back to Cooper.

'Where is the witness? Can I question him?' She bit out as she turned back to Cooper's desk.

'He's not here. And, no, you can't.' Cooper informed her, looking up at her. She ground her jaw, shoving her hands into her pockets.

'This is Tom's killer we're talking about.' Her voice held an edge of incredulity, leaning forward to emphasise her point.

'Which is why you can't be involved. A defence lawyer would need all of a minute to convince a jury to disregard any part of a case you build against Garvey. You're the widow and star witness. You can't also be the investigating officer.' Cooper told her rationally.

'So, while you and Reddington go after Garvey, I'm supposed to, what, read a book?' Her frustration evident as she shrugged her shoulders, her hands pushing further down into her pockets.

'Actually, I have a case.' Cooper stated, turning back to the group in his office.

'I'm only interested in the man who murdered Tom and finding out the secret that got him killed.' She addressed Cooper, ignoring Reddington as she quietly seethed.

'I'm going to help with the former and prevent the latter. 50-50 split. Like a good divorce. Harold.' Reddington nodded, placing his hat on his head and getting up to leave. She followed him to the door intending to speak to him when Cooper called her back.

'About the case…'

It had been a cold case from early in her career - The Capricorn Killer and she, Samar and Ressler had driven down to Huntington, PA to assess the scene. It had been intense but also she felt exhilarated for the first time in a long time. They had checked into a hotel for the night before planning to drive back to DC the next day. She was engrossed in old case files, spread out across the floor, comparing details of the most recent case. She'd poured herself a glass of wine or three into one of the hotel cups. She was so focused on work, her mind free of anything else that when her phone began to vibrate against the glass coffee table, it made her jump. Nick's Pizza. She almost rolled her eyes.

He was sat in her empty apartment on the unmade bed that he'd left early that morning. The imprint of their head remained in her pillow. He plucked it from the other side of the bed, his face falling into it. He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, her scent filling his lungs and overtaking any sense he might have had just then. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. His face remained in the pillow as he listened to it ring.

'Hello?' She answered, her voice causing his stomach to erupt in a light flutter. He closed his eyes, allowing the feeling to wash over him.

'I'm at your apartment, where are you?' He asked gruffly, aiming for a light tone but aware of the edge his voice held. He heard her let out a breath before answering.

'I'm still in Pennsylvania, it was getting too late to drive back and I wanted to look at the case files. Why are you at my apartment?' She replied seeming slightly irritated.

'I wanted to check in. When you weren't here…' He trailed off, aware he'd given away that he was in her apartment and not outside.

'So you let yourself in again?' She asked for clarification. 'You've really got to stop doing that.' She added, letting out a soft huff.

'Why would I do that, Elizabeth…' He asked frankly, a frown on his brow. This conversation wasn't going where he wanted.

'Er, to give me some privacy. I should get my key back.' She told him, the annoyance back in her voice.

'Have your key back but if you do, nights like last night won't happen again…' He cautioned her, trying to steer the conversation back around. she was silent, perhaps stunned he'd even brought up last night when he usually ignored these things.

'Elizabeth, are you still there?' He asked his impatience showing, he heard her swallow.

'Yes…' She answered gruffly before clearing her throat. 'Do you want that to happen again?' She asked softly, the wine giving her some boldness.

'Is there something you'd like to ask me Elizabeth?' He asked evading her question but maybe if he asked her, it would lead to what he really wanted to talk about. If she knew that he wasn't her father this would give her the opportunity to ask.

'Like what?' She asked confusion consuming her face, she took a sip of wine and he heard her swallow.

He hadn't thought this through, 'I don't know, what happened last night seemed… Different. Maybe there's something you'd like to ask me?'

'Or you could give me a hint and stop being so cryptic? Last night was only different because I've been so angry with you and I'm still angry with you. So unless you're eluding to the fact that you want to tell me what's in the duffle bag… There is nothing else I want you to tell me… Right now anyway.'

'I see… Well I'll let you get on with your evening then…' He said trying to conceal the disappointment in his voice. 'Goodnight Elizabeth…'

'Wait…' She blurted out suddenly, his heart constricted. 'There is something…' His belly flopped, the ever present fluttering spreading its way into his chest.

'Alright…' He murmured, listening to her soft breaths.

'Do you ever think about my recovery?' She began slowly almost tentatively as if she were afraid to bring it up or of what he might say.

'Your recovery?' He asked, completely thrown his heart sinking.

'About the time… We spent together in that house by the lake?' She clarified hesitantly. 'Of… Being together… Living together… How it was then, how we were then…' She grew more confident.

'Sometimes…' Of course he did, he cherished that time. How much she needed him… His eyes fluttered closed, the pillow still clutched to his chest.

'Only sometimes?' She asked, her voice breaking slightly, his eyes snapped open at the change in her voice, the emotion behind her question. 'Does it not mean something to you? She broached, her voice husky. He was quiet for a moment, a lump rising to his own throat. How could he explain how much it meant to him, being with her, living with her, being in her bed every night?

'Are you sure there's not something you wish to ask me Elizabeth?' He asked again, wishing she'd just ask him the damn question. Are you my father? Just ask, Lizzy.

'What? I am asking. I'm asking if it meant anything to you?' Confusion filling her voice before breaking tears, filling her eyes. 'Why can't you just answer, instead of being evasive.' His throat constricted with unshed tears. He couldn't find his voice.

'Why do you always push me away?' She whispered then, a sob escaping her lips.

'I could ask you the same thing, Elizabeth.' His voice was harder than he intended and he immediately regretted it.

'Because you confuse me so damn much! You push me away but then you're in my bed. You leave and don't say goodbye the next morning, like it means nothing to you! Like I mean nothing to you! You continually hurt me and you have no idea what that does to me…' She sucked in a heavy breath, her voice breaking. 'But here you are calling me, saying that if I take my key back, you won't be able to stay over, clearly that tells me you do want to. Saying I need to ask you something all cryptically but why don't you just tell me what it is I should be asking? Why does it have to be so complicated? Just tell me what you want!' She sobbed, her voice holding a note of desperation.

'So you don't want me in your bed?' He asked obtusely, whether that was to throw her off he wasn't sure in that moment. He could never not be evasive, it was his programming. But he listened to the woman breaking on the other end of the line and never regretted it more.

She let out another sob, 'Yeah that's what I fucking want…' He heard the line click off suddenly, the tone echoing in his ear. It took a moment for him to react and close the phone. When he did, he sank back against the bed hugging her pillow.

The closest she'd come to telling someone about what she did to Navarro was in Sharon Fulton's office. She had a session when she got back to DC, excited about the case. She put Reddington out of her mind.

'Standing there looking at that body, I felt alive.' She confessed softly, sitting forward in her seat, her hands against the arms of the chair. Her face serious.

'Because you reconnected with your work, with profiling?' Fulton told her, sitting opposite.

'No. It's more that…' She sighed, censoring her words because she knew she couldn't confess. Not here and not now. 'I don't know…'

'Why are you editing yourself?' Fulton asked squinting back at her, 'You know this only works if you're entirely open. You brought up the Capricorn case for a reason. Why?' She asked.

'Because… What this unsub did to that poor man in the woods…' She stared off into space thinking back, 'Part of me… Sometimes, I feel like I'm capable of doing terrible things like that.' She chose her words carefully, she knew she was capable because she had done it. Not killed in that way but the disposal of Navarro had been just as horrific. Did the man deserve that for the part he'd played in Tom's death. Did his family? Never knowing what happened to him.

'You said you identified the man who killed Tom.' Fulton asked, squinting at her again, snapping her out of her thoughts.

'Yes, and killing him, picturing that, imagining that. We talked about how common that feeling is. This is different…' She leaned against the arm, gesticulating with her hands and trying to work out a way to explain how this was different without confessing like she wanted to.

'Well, we've talked about your anger and passion and your desire to paint outside the lines…Fulton explained, 'Your first case with the Bureau, what was it called? He took their shoes… The Sandman Killer.' She broached, confusion dawning on Elizabeth's face.

'My work on that case was classified. How do you know about it?' She questioned, sitting back further into the chair.

'Elizabeth, it's my job to evaluate your readiness. We can't have secrets…' Yet they did, Elizabeth thought, they had to. 'The Sandman was a very important unsolved case early in your career. I'm sure it was defining in ways you may not even be aware of.'

'Unsolved cases…' She nodded, 'I fixate on them. How unfair they are. That people get away with murder…' In that moment, it dawned on her that she was one of those people. Was this what it was about, her need to confess? She hadn't looking into Navarro's family, if he even had any. His was an unsolved case as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

'I… I know it sounds corny, but I, um… I obsess over the need for justice.' She did obsess but there must be line drawn somewhere because those rules apparently didn't apply to Narravo. She could compartmentalise, he was a scumbag but where he'd come from, his mother, his family, they would never know and she'd never given them a second thought. She frowned, looking down afraid Fulton would see it written on her face.

'Even if it means painting outside the lines… Or the law.' Fulton finished, giving her a direct glance.

'Yes….' She told her simply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyebrows raised, she looked back at Fulton. Her mask was perfectly in place. She rested her elbow on the arm of her chair, resting her chin against her fingers, nodding back at the older woman.

She figured out the case with a surprising twist…. Sharon Fulton.

Fulton had played her, possibly tried to groom her to join her merry band of vigilante justice against serial killers. She'd made a move against the former profiler she suspected, much to Cooper's chagrin when she used Reddington to gain intel on the man. The tables had turned and Anthony Hollis had taken her hostage where she came face to face with the true mastermind - Sharon Fulton.

She'd told Fulton in the cabin that she wasn't like them but somewhere deep down she knew that wasn't true. She might obsess about the need for justice and paint outside the lines, or the law but she had one thing they didn't and that was Red. He probably hadn't helped her obsession for justice but he had certainly helped her paint outside the lines of the law on more than one occasion. She couldn't say she would never be like them, she was heading that way and she knew it. She could feel it coming. It might not have started with Navarro but what she did to him was calculated. She didn't feel guilt over it, more that she was disturbed by her capabilities. Fulton had asked her to reveal herself but she'd already had a revelation about herself, months ago when she'd disposed of Narravo in that bathtub. Was it then she'd had a psychological shift like Hollis had. She wondered when it happened. Once she could've palmed it off on epigenetics, not now though she'd had enough mental trauma for a shift to occur and she knew it, almost reconciled with it in that moment.

Could she have claimed she wouldn't have done it? No. She'd been stood there with the pillow in her hand ready to put The Sandman to death. If the team hadn't found them she was sure she would have done something. She'd gone after Fulton in the woods but as she stood with the older woman in her crosshairs, facing her disappointment, she'd let her go. She could get behind Fulton's kind of justice, she saw the need for it even if it wasn't her path right now.

Later that evening, standing in the Post Office talking to Aram, Cooper had called her name. She saw Fulton standing next to him it was like some kind of divine intervention. After losing the only witness in Singleton"s murder Cooper gave her a speech, saying these things were bound to sting but it was more like a gut punch. Fulton had reinstated her not because she'd let her go, but as Elizabeth thought about it, the woman had done her a favour in return. Fulton had offered for her to continue therapy with her but perhaps that was playing with fire. If she was like Reddington as Fulton suggested, it was only in the fact that he had taught her, well.

Tony Mejia the only witness to Singleton's murder had been abducted and probably killed. She knew rationally that it wasn't Aram's fault, the man felt bad enough but the loss of this witness, it almost made her want to take up Fulton's offer of joining her. Instead she reached for her phone.

He was in the middle of threatening Garvey when the phone rang and Dembe handed it to him.

'Yes?' He answered, sensing her distress immediately. Only that morning he had told her he wanted all of this behind her. She'd sounded so hopeful, saying as much. He knew then what he had to do, he'd already made the deal with Garvey so he knew what was coming. Of course it pained him, hearing her distress and knowing what he'd done behind her back but still he always did what was necessary. His love for her couldn't and wouldn't get in the way of it.

'I need you to promise me something.' She asked, barely holding it together. Her breathing uneven.

'Of course.' He told her but something weighed heavy in his chest as he said those words, breaking yet another promise to her.

'You're doing everything in your power to get Garvey.' She asked, still holding it together as she spoke.

'What's this about?' His question redundant because he already knew but he had to play along. It was then she broke, the emotion clear in her voice.

'He got him. We were so close, and then…' Her voice breaking, her tears and frustration evident through the phone line. She hadn't given him much detail so must assume he already knew what had happened to the witness.

'You have my word.' What else could he say in that moment. It was the truth as he intended it but with the bag in play that had to come first. He hated hearing the anguish in her voice, he wanted to comfort her even if he would more than likely break his word.

'The bag. The secret. You won't let them get in the way?' She asked, desperation bleeding through her words.

'I've already told you.' He stated firmly.

'Tell me again. I need to hear it.' It as almost a whine but it was clear in that moment that she trusted his word and she needed his confirmation and possibly the comfort of his words.

'I promise Ian Garvey will not get away from me.' He told her resolutely, when the door opened, squeaking on its hinges he turned, clicking the phone closed and hanging up on her. He watched Garvey leave, knowing full well his own agenda came first. It didn't help the ache in his chest or that he knew he had essentially just lied to her… Again.

It was late when she got home but the place wasn't in darkness, the lamp in the living room had been left on, bathing the room in a warm welcoming glow. She was expecting a mess, or at least how she'd left it two days ago so she was surprised to see the dishes had been done, the counters cleared and the living room tidy. She shrugged of her coat and shoes and padded to the bedroom where she found her bed made. A smile played at the corner of her lips as she took out her phone. 'Thank you for tidying up… Lizzy. x'. She grabbed the pillow where he had lain two nights ago, sinking her face into it, traces of his scent still remaining. She inhaled deeply, flopping down against the mattress when her phone began to vibrate. 'I'll be there in half an hour… Red.'

A/N: I liked the idea that Red would tidy up her apartment while she was gone.