In The Muddy Waters We're Crawling…

Summary: Elizabeth Keen criminal mastermind dissolves a body in acid, hoodwinks Reddington and apparently gets away with murder. What if she grew a conscience in the middle of the night and drunk dials Red?

'These Moving Parts Inside Of Me, Well They've Been Shutting Down For Quite Some Time' Comes before this chapter.

This ep has bugged me for a long time, the fact that Liz was seemingly okay with what she did bugged me even more and the fact that no one found out - it was never mentioned again. Can we take a moment to realise what this would actually take and do to you? We don't really see the human side of Liz very often, if at all.

When she and Navarro are fighting, she fires off two rounds into the ceiling, she doesn't recover the slugs and neither do the cops. Plot Hole #1. She is also very lapse with tying her hair back or keeping it covered and would be leaving long hairs everywhere. The Stew Maker was bald for a reason. LOL. Plot hole #2 - Red says at the end that she called him but she was busy stirring up soup and it was him who actually called her so I changed the convo slightly. I'm not a fan of Churchill despite being British, its a whole thing -if you know you know. Needless to say I've ignored that scene even though yes its cute but also weird.

Spoilers for end of 5x10/5x11, mentions of 1x04, 2x22.

Song is: Muddy waters - LP

What You'll See Is The Worst Me….

Somewhere in the depths of her mind she'd cared. Cared a great deal but as she'd stood silently freaking out, her hands in her hair, her stomach clenched. She couldn't quite seem to find it. Had it really been murder, when they had fought and fallen into the glass table? She hadn't physically stabbed him but her mind had gone straight into fix it mode.

It had been a problem and one that could be fixed.

She'd stood shakily, watching the blood seep from the man's neck, taking gasping breaths. 'Okay…' she'd told herself aloud, 'This is okay.' She whispered trying to steady herself. She thought fleetingly about calling Reddington but then didn't. A piece of glass had lodged itself in her abdomen, having been running on adrenalin, she barely noticed. Wincing she pulled the glass with her fingers, holding her top against the oozing wound once she had retrieved it. Her eyes were wide as she scrambled to think where she should start in the mess of the apartment but it wasn't like she hadn't cleaned a scene before.

Now her hands were shaking, mid-pour of the whisky she was emptying into a glass at two in the morning, dressed in pyjama shorts and a tank top. She'd woken in a sweat, the smell of chemicals up her nose, clinging to her skin and hair despite the two showers she had scrubbed herself clean in. She was nauseous but she took a gulp none the less, the liquor warming her insides, pooling warmth in the pit of her stomach. Had she really done it? Had she really managed to get that great hulk of a man into that bag, let alone carry it out of the apartment and into the trunk of her car. It seemed impossible now in the half light of her sparsely decorated living room. Her mind backtracking on itself as she fought to remember the details.

That wasn't even the worst part. She wasn't a psychopath but what she had done…? She shuddered for a moment remembering the details. The soupy blood coloured concoction in the heart shaped bathtub. It had been premeditated, what she had done next and the very fact that she hadn't told anyone, not Reddington and certainly not Ressler. Both men would've helped her she knew. Reddington would've taken over, fixed it and she wouldn't have had to think about it a moment longer. But bodies had a way of turning up and she didn't want this one getting in the way of Tom's investigation. Detective Singleton was already sniffing around like she was guilty of something other than obstruction. Ha! Now she was, she thought bitterly. She took another swig, pouring out two more fingers.

Aram had almost caught her when she'd gone to the Post Office in search of the files. She'd dropped them at his feet when he'd surprised her. She wondered what he would've done if she hadn't recovered them in time. Stanley Kornish, a hideous and traumatic case but the man just might have saved her now. She'd taken photos of the details, too many details that probably shouldn't have been in a report for someone to access. Herself being that person who'd stolen confidential case files, to enact a plan exactly like Kornish's MO. Had she thought at the time of what that would truly entail? She didn't know, she now felt like she was on autopilot, doing what she had to to stay several steps ahead. She took a gulp, the liquor mixing with a guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, the bar stools that were meant to be tucked underneath hadn't been taken out of storage yet. She felt the liquor pool down her legs, her thighs trembling slightly. She should slow down, her brain informed her but what good had rational thought done her?

When Singleton had told her about the bloody rag she'd stuffed down the garbage disposal, she kept her face as still as she could. Adopting a Raymond Reddington like mask. Her mind kicking her butt for making such a rookie mistake. Idiot.

She'd rented the motel room on the outskirts of the city, making sure it was dodgy enough that there were no camera's in the parking lot or the reception area and dragged that hulking man's body through the door, groaning with the effort. Fatigue had begun to set in after being on such an adrenaline high for the past several hours. She'd closed the curtains and prepared the room as per the instructions in Ressler's report. She'd dragged the man's body up two steps of the raised tub and pushed him into the heart shaped bath then she studied the chemicals in the report, showered in iodine then scrubbed the room and hung the plastic sheeting around. She'd donned the gas mask and began to pour the chemicals into the tub. What had her thoughts been in that moment, she tried to recall as she poured each bottle into that tub knowing what was coming next? Had she actually realised at that point? She couldn't remember now looking back. Perhaps not. Perhaps the reality was too gruesome for her brain to allow her to make sense of. She watched the mixture bubble from behind the mask while another plan had formulated in her mind as to what she should do about the bloody rag in evidence.

The image of the bubbling mixture wouldn't leave her thoughts, the body parts rising to the top as if trying to escape their fate, the fizzing noise it caused as the chemicals mixed, hitting flesh and bone. It replayed now on repeat as she closed her eyes, rubbing at them furiously willing the image to leave her brain. A wave of nausea hit and she rushed to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She sat on the cold tile, icy against her bare thighs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She hadn't exactly planned to use Reddington in the way she had but getting one up on the man had definitely been a huge highlight, him finding out hadn't been planned either. So she'd made the call to MPD and told them about a planned robbery at the museum where she knew a Lincoln Penny was being exhibited, thanks to Aram. She kind of wished she could've seen Reddington's face when he'd found out the penny had been taken into evidence. Did she know he would call her to help? Perhaps not but left with little choice of course he would turn to her when Cooper would categorically say no to stealing evidence. She was unaffiliated for the time being. While she'd waited for the call, she'd stirred the chemical soup in the tub with a long crow bar and set the timer. Her phone vibrated as she came out from behind the plastic sheeting and sure enough it had been him. Did she really know him so well that she could predict his moves after all these years? Some maybe. When she told him she needed a distraction, she wasn't lying per say. The body had needed more time so now she'd been at a loose end.

Possibly she'd been unwilling to be in the same room as the dissolving body. She ran the tap, dipping her head to the stream and rinsed her mouth, she swished the water around her mouth spitting it into the sink. She braced herself against the cool porcelain staring into the mirror. She barely recognised herself, her eyes seemed hollow, vacant. Traumatised?

'I've cautioned you that in your pursuit of Tom's killer, you need to restrain your darker impulses…' His words echoed in her mind, giving her pause in that moment, she'd eyed the tub behind the plastic as if he could see through the phone and knew exactly what she was up to.

'Which I've done. Mostly. More or less.' She lied, barefaced and eyed the tub again, thinking he knew exactly what she had done and here came the other shoe dropping. Had she been more worried he'd catch her out or more worried that he would be disgusted with her. She remembered that time after she'd shot Tom Connelly when he'd told her that he never wanted her to be like him. Yet there she was literally liquifying a body in acid. Did that make her worse? Because the only time he had ever done the same was that night with Kornish. Because Kornish had taken her, he'd drugged her and almost killed her. That night she'd told him he was a monster, yet there she was five years later doing the very same thing. She rubbed her shoulder absently in the darkness of her bathroom, easing the echos of nerve pain Kornish had left there. Conceivably she hadn't put up enough of an argument with Reddington, or she hadn't allowed him to persuade her more but whatever it was he had caught her out in the end.

Suddenly she had an urge to confess, call him and tell him everything. She gripped the sink and closed her eyes. No, she told herself steadily. He hadn't asked any questions so let it be. She made her way back to living room on shaky legs, she took the bottle from the counter and her glass and poured out two more fingers. She wanted to drink herself into oblivion, to forget these details that wouldn't leave her mind. She took the glass and sat in a heap on floor, her back up against the couch.

Her plan had worked out better than she could've hoped. Reddington had called Glen and together they had concocted a plan to get into the evidence locker. The whole thing had left her feeling elated. Being on the other side of the law, not having to follow rules and regulations and as long as she handed over the penny, Reddington would be none the wiser, she'd thought at the time. She took a swig of her drink, the alcohol hitting her now empty stomach. She was good at this, she thought solemnly. Raising questions in her mind as to whether she was born to be on the other side of the law. It thrilled her but it also stretched her, it was like a rubix cube in her mind, a problem that she could solve by whatever means necessary and she wasn't held back by the rules the government upheld.

The tap dripped in the sink, echoing in her otherwise empty quiet apartment, bringing her mind back to the soupy combination of chemicals and human remains. Nausea pitting her stomach, she swallowed closing her eyes.

When the timer had gone off she had been sitting on the bed watching the seconds tick passed, it had made her jump when it rang despite the fact that she'd been watching it. She entered through the plastic sheeting, gas mask on. She pulled the plug but the drain kept getting clogged so she'd had to keep plunging the drain to allow the contents to disappear. When it had drained, the bath had remained bloody and what she'd found in the plug hole surprised her. Navarro had a glass eye. She'd retrieved the item from the drain, pulling the back of it to reveal a terminator type red glow which was clearly impervious to chemicals. She'd cleaned it and wrapped it in one of Reddington's handkerchiefs, she'd found in her bag before setting to the task of cleaning the room. She was meticulous, scrubbing the tiles and every square of that room before packing away the plastic sheeting and any remaining evidence and closing the door on the entire gruesome experience.

When she'd got Dembe's text saying that Reddington wanted to see her urgently, she panicked believing she had been caught out. She'd sat in her car outside the antique store trying to steady her quivering nerves.

'You're to be congratulated…' He'd told her as he walked towards her, she'd frowned at him in response. She'd tried to keep her face still, wear a mask but her frown had betrayed her. 'I may be old, but I'm not an old fool, and you completely hoodwinked me… And Harold… He thinks I stole a bloody rag from evidence.' He'd squinted at her, unable to believe that somehow she had fooled him.

'Right. About that…' She'd begun nodding before he'd cut her off. Her stomach churing as he put the pieces together.

'You were the anonymous tip…' He smiled his eyebrow raising, 'You told the MPD that the penny was about to be stolen.' His voice had risen before dropping almost conspiratorially,

'You knew if they stopped the robbery in progress, they'd book the penny into evidence…' She kept her face still as he continued, a light smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 'And you didn't help me steal the penny or to distract you from your obsession with Tom's killer. You helped me help you retrieve a rag covered…' She shook her head, opening her mouth to say something but he'd continued '…in your blood evidence that might have convicted you of murdering Robert Navarro.' His face scrunched up as if he were appalled by the very notion that she had killed someone else.

'I did not intend to kill him.' She told him emphatically, 'I intended to get him to identify Tom's killer. He got the upper hand. There was a fight.' He'd nodded at her, his eyes wandering behind her.

'Where's the body?' He asked uninterested in her explanation. 'Cooper says it's a missing-persons case… But if they find that corpse…' He laughed without humour, his gazed intently fixed on her.

She smiled then, feeling proud, 'That's not gonna happen.' She'd assured him.

'I'd like to make sure of that…' He told her, not believing that she could or would dispose of it properly, did he not know her at all? Had he really thought she would just let it be, bury it in the woods somewhere so what? Someone could one day leave it in an empty ice rink?

'I already have…' She looked him in the eye and hoped the following would be enough to distract him. 'And in the process, I discovered Navarro had a glass eye.' His interest was piqued,

'Look at that…' He murmured, looking down at the object laying in her palm.

'Wait till you see this…' She had told him, picking up the eye between her thumb and forefinger and turning it over. 'Some kind of next-gen technology…' He took it from her, frowning turning it over between his own fingers.

'I'm sorry I tricked you…' She'd been sincere, watching him in that moment. He was no longer angry with her. 'I had no idea what else to do, but now I do, and I need your help to do it…' His eyes had met hers and she took a sharp inhale. 'Will you help me?'

'Of course I'll help you…' He'd told her his voice gravelly, he smiled putting the eye back into her palm. He'd squinted, then frowned and reached into her hair. The moment had filled her with warmth.

'What?' She'd asked as his fingers grazed her ear, sending goosebumps down her neck.

'Ohh…' He'd murmured, producing the Lincoln Penny from behind her ear.

'Your penny!' She'd proclaimed almost excitedly, 'Wait. Does this mean you found your treasure or no?' She asked genuinely interested as she watched him light up.

'I've had my eye on a castle in Trieste. I'm flying over there in an hour to make a ridiculously large offer on it. Care to join me?' He asked before a door opened in the back and a man entered carrying a box.

Her hand reached for her phone automatically as the scene had played out in her mind, the one highlight to a god awful day. She should've said yes, she should've gone to Trieste and she should most definitely not be drinking alone at 2.30 in the morning, drunk dialling him. Yet her fingers refused to stop and she held the phone to her ear listening to it ring.

'Elizabeth… Everything alright?' He asked in surprise, 'It's late there, why aren't you sleeping…' His tone turning concerned, her belly dipped.

'I'm drinking…' She informed him idly, running her finger around the rim of her glass. Why had she called him? She needed to hang up now.

'What's happened?' Concern filling his gravelly voice. If only she could see him, maybe that would make her feel better. A lump rose in her throat.

'Where are you?' She asked ignoring his question, taking a swig of her drink before her body uncurled from its position to lay against the hard wood of the floor. She banged her head slightly, wincing as it hit her scar.

'I told you I was flying to Trieste… But if you meant specifically, Dembe and I have just finished dinner in a wonderful little….'

'That thing you said would happen, happened…' She interrupted vaguely, closing her eyes listening to the background noise when he went silent. He'd warned her she would lose sleep over taking a life, the other men she hadn't but this one? She shuddered.

'What thing?' He asked, she could almost picture his frowning features. She was quiet, her breathing heavy as she reached for her drink. He heard her swallow.

'Should I be concerned?' He enquired, his voice low and gravelly.

'I don't know, should you be?' She said evasively, finishing the remnants of her glass. 'I only killed a man and disposed of his body in the most heinous of ways…' She slurred slightly, banging the phone on the floor as she pushed off the ground in order to retrieve the bottle. 'And you…' She said accusingly, 'You were so distracted by your stolen fortune and your stupid hat that you didn't even ask me if I was okay or what I had done with it!' She clinked the bottle against the glass. Anger swilling with the alcohol in her stomach.

'Don't you think you've had enough Elizabeth?' He asked ignoring her accusations. She purposely poured out more, making sure the bottle clinked against the side of the glass so that he could hear what she was doing.

'You hear that Daddy, you want to come and scold me?' She asked, slightly suggestively not thinking as the words slipped out of her mouth. She blushed when he remained silent, glad in that moment that he couldn't see her.

'Perhaps I should, it's obvious you need someone to take the bottle away and give you a telling off about your actions of late…' His tone was low, almost dangerous and if she had been able to see his darkening features she might have thought twice about her next comments.

'Ha!' She cried shrilly, 'You're one to talk! Don't you think I learned from the best?' She argued, taking a gulp of her drink and scrunching up her face as it hit the back of her throat. 'You're the one that put me in this position, you're the one that put Tom in my life, you're the one that opened up this whole fucking can of worms! How do you think I would even known about this stuff if it weren't for you!' She ranted, slurring every other word as she abandoned her glass and picked up the bottle, the liquor swilling against the glass as she slumped down onto the couch. 'You didn't want me to end up like you but look at what you've created! I am just like you, aren't you fucking proud?' She ground out, her teeth clenched.

'Are you, Elizabeth? Are you proud of what you've done?'

'What if I am?' She choked, her voice breaking. 'You don't even know what I did, what I had to do!' She almost screamed, rage creeping up her spine to replace the anguish.

'It would help if you told me what exactly you've done?' He asked, she opened her mouth, a tiny sound escaping before she clamped it shut. She couldn't tell him, she couldn't even begin to say the words out loud to explain. Angry tears spilled from her eyes as she sank down against the edge of the couch until she was on the floor again. Her head was spinning, she closed her eyes. 'Elizabeth?' He asked bringing her back to the present.

'What does it matter…' She asked her voice quiet as she gripped the bottle, willing the room to stop spinning.

'Well I don't know, you called me so apparently it matters to you…' He told her, his voice soft. She sank her head back to rest against the edge of the couch, her eyes still closed.

'Doesn't it matter to you? That I could do such a thing…' She whispered, lifting the bottle to her lips, the liquid sloshing against the glass as she upturned the bottle.

'I don't know what the thing is so no not especially…' They were both quiet for a moment and she listened to his soft breathing.

'Aren't you supposed to be my sin-eater?' She asked suddenly, her head lifting from the couch, despite its heaviness.

'Maybe at one time but now I think you have it handled and looking back I don't think you exactly welcomed it…'

'I was foolish…' She told him softly, sinking to the floor stretching her limbs out against the hard wood.

'I can't exactly be your sin-eater if you don't confess your sin…' He waited listening to her take another gulp from the bottle. 'You know you won't be able to tell me at this rate, you'll be unconscious until next Tuesday, if you drink much more and I'll have to come and wake you up when I get back…' He teased, she half smiled in the low light before her face crumpled. She held back the sob that was rising, clamping a hand over her mouth as she squeezed her eyes closed.

'You do always seem to call me though so maybe I still am…' He mused lightly hearing the muffled sharp inhales. 'Lizzy…' He whispered, her defences melting with just that one whisper of her name. He knew, of course he knew what it would do to her. That everything that she was holding back would come spilling out of her.

'Stanley Kornish…' She murmured, her voice breaking. She could barely finish the man's name before a sob escaped her lips, the bloody bathtub coming into view, the hissing and pops of the chemicals filling her ears. Reddington blanched silently, sitting in shock in the middle of an empty restaurant. It wasn't often he was taken aback but that was twice now she had completely thrown him.

'Red?' She whispered urgently into the phone, her fingers pressed into the hard plastic as she rolled onto her side. 'Say something…' She urged biting her lip, she heard him breathing slightly heavier than before. 'Please Red?' She murmured, rolling onto her stomach and lowered her forehead to the floor. She misjudged the distance and the sound echoed in the quietness.

'That's twice now you've completely blindsided me…' He told her, his voice gravelly, she could almost hear the twitch of his eye and the set of his jaw. 'Remember once I told you that no one can take a life and come out okay on the other side?' He asked her softly, no trace of disappointment or disgust in his voice. She swallowed tears spilling down her cheeks.

'Yes...' She murmured barely audible, her eyes closed.

'Now will you put down the bottle and get into bed?' He asked, listening to her shuddering breaths against the hard wood.

'Aren't you going to say anything else?' She almost begged, her voice trembling.

'Not right now. Get up and go to bed…' His tone was firm and commanding but she didn't hesitate. She got up on shaky legs, stumbling her way into the bedroom. She shivered when the cool sheets hit her bare skin.

'Stay with me until I fall asleep?' She asked tentatively, plugging in the device as she listened.

'Okay, put the phone on speaker so you can put it down.' He instructed and she did as he said, resting back against the pillow. He waited until he could hear the soft regular breaths of sleep and then he hung up completely bemused.