If You Could Read My Mind Love.
By Peace_Love_On_Planet_Earth (Starbuck1980)
Fandom: The Blacklist
Pairing: Lizzington
Rating: PG (swearing)
Summary: Lizzy is angry about all the lies she thinks Red has been telling her. Red is angry about Lizzy faking her death. When Lizzy's anger overwhelms her she decides she's going to have it out with him but will Red give her what she wants?
A/N: Comes directly after the final scene in 4x05 - The Lindquist Concern. At the table where Reddington is sitting there are no other chairs at the table so lets pretend that there is. Dembe is in the pew opposite but lets also pretend that he's not there.
Ship this as you will. I don't ship them like that but I can see why you may. This is left for you to interpret as you like. The title and subtitle are taken from the song 'If You Could Read My Mind Love' By Gordon Lightfoot which was actuallt played in 4x02. If you listen to it and it causes you to remember the exact scene, I am sorry!
Spoilers for the end of S03 and for this ep.
I haven't written fic in a VERY long time so I'm out of practice. This may turn into more as I continue to rewatch this season.
*Special thanks to the-raymondreddington on tumblr for venting with me over our love for this show and for prompting/encouraging this fic.
But the Feeling's gone, and I just can't get it back…
He was sat in the church having dinner when she stormed in, fire in her eyes, a fury radiating from her. He sat facing the door and the non existent congregation. Dembe had stepped out moments before to take a call so they were alone.
'You lied to me about everything...' She accused, storming down the isle toward him.
'May I pour you a glass of this delicious aglianico? He asked, gesturing toward the bottle of red wine in front of him. She approached the table, placing a single piece of paper in front of him.
'What's this?' He asked bending forward to glance at the page.
'A DNA report, proof that Alexander Kirk is my father.' She stood before him as he sat back in his chair.
'You told me my father was dead…' He looked up at her, eye brows raised and nodded slightly.
'…that I killed him.' There was a fury on her face, a fury mixed with emotion. Her eyes glistened as she gave him a hard look, clenching her jaw. She would not cry, she swore to herself resolutely.
'Everything you've said from the start, from the very beginning, all lies…' She scoffed, letting out a breath and shook her head slightly deflated, a sadness in her tired eyes. He met her gaze, still chewing on that last bite of his meal. She bent to pick up the piece of paper, breaking eye contact before turning to leave.
He watched her storm down the isle toward the door, not saying a single word to stop her leaving. He knew he should but he was just as angry with her as she was with him and she would not see him angry today. Let her accuse him, let her think what she wanted whether it was true or not. What did it matter. One day he would tell her but today wasn't that day and she would find out soon enough about Alexander Kirk. Just that man's name filled his stomach with bile, a bitter taste rising up in his throat.
She stopped at the door, her back to him, rigid as she clenched her fists, the fire back in her belly igniting its way up her spine. It took but a second for her to reach the table slamming the paper and her palms against the table cloth. She leaned over glaring at him, her jaw tight.
'You know what? You can sit there in silence and not say a word, that's fine. I don't care if you won't give me answers. I realised a long time ago that you would never tell me what I want to know. I told you that I would find out for myself and here it is, the rest will come, I will find out.' He met the fury in her eye, his own impassive and twitching slightly as he placed his knife and fork on the table.
"Say something!' she demanded seemingly changing her mind about his silence. She slammed her fists down against the table causing the glassware to clink and his knife and fork to wobble. He clenched his jaw before taking a breath,
'What would you like me to say Elizabeth? I think you've decided for yourself what you think.' His voice more gravelly than usual. He sat back, moving away from her slightly, he could smell the floral fragrance of her hair. He picked up his wine glass and took a measured sip before meeting the fire that radiated out of her like a nuclear weapon.
'I know the truth!' she declared defiantly, her eyes flashing raising to her full height.
'Won't you sit down so we might discuss this politely?' He gestured to the chair beside him, pouring out another glass of wine. He pushed the glass toward her, 'Have a drink, it might calm you down a bit'.
'I don't want your fucking wine!' She cussed at him swiping the glass off the table to smash against the flagstone floor. A move she instantly regretted but in that moment she didn't care. What could he do? She knew by now he would never harm her. She could rail against him, screaming and shouting like a two year old and he would just take it. The thought infuriated her more, she wanted him to be angry, to shout at her, to make this guilty ache inside her dissipate. She turned her back on him, running a hand through her hair, her knuckles curling around the roots tugging slightly, the other against her hip. She struggled with the emotion her anger was bringing up. She fought off the approaching tears, forcing them back down where they belonged. She could cry later.
'Can we just stop this now?' She asked fire behind her eyes as she turned back toward the table. He was still sitting but she could his angry tic, his eyes now ignited meeting the same fury in her own, probably more angry that she'd wasted the wine.
'Stop what Elizabeth?' He ground out before that signature impassivity returned to his face. The only sign she could see that he was still angry was his clenched jaw and the occasional twitch below his eye.
'You know what!' She screamed, her voice echoing around the vaulted ceiling, cracking at the end. She paced the length of the table.
'You with your Elizabeths and your feigned politeness, just stop'.
'I am nothing if not polite Elizabeth, you should know that by now' He answered, eye brows raised almost innocently.
'Ugh..' She groaned in frustration throwing her hand up in the air and slapping them down against the side of her thighs.
'You are the most infuriating man! Just let it out, scold me, shout at me, scream at me. Anything but this, this cold politeness.' She paused, thighs up against the table but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the piano behind him.
He was silent as he pushed his plate further away, placing his clasped hand on the table in front of him. She met his eye then and almost winced in shame. His jaw was clenched and his eye twitched slightly but there was something else in his face, a sadness or deep wound that he normally kept hidden but this she felt was especially reserved for her and only her.
'Say it Red, for the love of God…' Her voice breaking despite her best efforts to keep her emotions in check. 'I can see it on your face. Your eye twitches when you're angry. I know you're angry with me so let's just get it over with.' She fell silent then, Reddington working his jaw unamused to be caught out. He remained silent but held her gaze, he rose to his full height for the first time, to look at her directly.
'I know you'd like me to make you feel better about the decisions you've made but I'm not going to, Elizabeth.' He said evenly with an sharp edge to his voice and she visibly winced at the use of her full name, an affect she was sure was meant to have that effect.
'Stop. Just Stop. Why can't you ever just tell me how you feel? Why can't you ever just have a straight conversation without launching into some convoluted story?' She turned back to the table, marching half way around it to stand closer to him. Her voice waived but then grew stronger.
'What do you think you'll do? If you get angry just once, if you tell me how you feel just this once? I know you won't hurt me so lets just have it out.'
'No…' He ground out, turning towards her, his tented fingertips against the table.
Her face darkened and he saw it coming, her hand swinging towards his face but he was faster, his reflexes well honed. You don't spend half your life on the run without quick reflexes. He grabbed her wrist as she swung for him, pulling her closer to him. He squeezed her wrist, her arm bent at the elbow but didn't let go. They stood face to face, her expression dark, that fury behind her eyes ignited once again. For a moment she didn't move, suddenly struck dumb by his proximity. She met his eye and then she struggled, trying to remove his grip.
'Let me go' Her voice was quiet but the edge of her words were sharp as she struggled against his grip, her eyes dark and her teeth clenched. He looked down at her, his face hard. He didn't immediately let go which just made her struggle harder and he grasped her shoulder with his other hand, fingertips digging into her flesh.
'Red… Stop' she almost pleaded, her voice breaking slightly as angry tears threatened to spill over. He detected an edge of panic but remained resolute. As much as he wanted to pull her into him and wrap his arms around her, this wasn't the time and he would never facilitate physical contact except for holding her hand, anything else always had to come from her.
'Are you going to take another swing at me?' He asked evenly, his grip giving just a little. When she didn't reply, he ran his thumb over her wrist and let go. Instinctively she cradled her wrist with her other hand, rubbing it between her fingers and thumb. He took a breath and sat back down. With his foot he kicked the leg of the chair beside him forcing it away from the table towards her.
'Sit…' He commanded his tone firm. He didn't look at her but she paused, not wanting to give in, she was still cradling her wrist and whilst it didn't particularly hurt she could still feel his fingers around it. When she didn't move, he looked up at her scowling face, his eyes hard and cold. She flinched again as though he'd slapped her. This was precisely what she didn't want. She couldn't stand the coldness, she couldn't stand the indifference and she couldn't stand him looking at her like that. Her anger gave way to something else, a hollow pit in her stomach, her nerve endings tingling with what? Shame? Guilt? Embarrassment? She felt thoroughly chastised like a naughty school girl but he still hadn't given her anything. Would he ever? She'd gotten no rise out of him and apart from more coldness they were no further along.
He took a sip of his wine while he waited for her to sit, eyes focused on the furthest point possible at the back of the church, his jaw clenching and unclenching. She moved slowly, her hands resting on the back of the chair but she didn't sit.
'I'm sorry…" her voice was small and hoarse.
'I know I hurt you, I hurt everyone…' She looked down at her fingers and then up at the side of his face, he was still focused on something far away.
'I panicked, okay? I just wanted out and when Mr Kaplan came to us, I just didn't see another way…' her voice broke then as tears began to spill down her face, she felt nothing except this heavy weight in her chest that ached with every breath.
'I just had the baby and they were coming. I was scared and it was easier to blame you and hold onto that…' She took a shuddering breath, willing him to turn and face her but he continued staring ahead.
'Red… Please… Look at me…" She grabbed the back of the chair and swung into it, sitting for the first time. She reached for his clasped hands but just as she was about to cover his hand with her own, he moved them out of reach into his lap. Crushed she sat back, her elbows on the table, cradling her head in her hands.
'I can't do this without you, I can't find Agnes without you. Please just talk to me…' It was more of a whisper into her hands but she knew he heard her, he moved very slightly, almost a twitch really but she knew he heard.
He cleared his throat then said simply, 'I think you should go home to Tom, he'll be wondering where you are.' She looked up at the side of his face, his jaw was still clenched but she could see his eyes glistening.
A sob escaped her lips before she could silence it, he almost broke then as she rose stiffly from the table. She glanced at him briefly and in his peripheral vision he could see the tears, wet against her cheek. She stumbled down the isle, grief seemingly pouring out of every pore. At the door she crashed into Dembe and he held her arms to stop her from stumbling. He looked down the isle at Reddington, his jaw set and his posture rigid. Then down at Elizabeth's tear stricken face.
'Are you okay, Elizabeth?' Dembe whispered in that soft voice of his, her hands were against his chest where she had crashed into him but now she fought for release against his grip. He let go and she stumbled through the door.