Lizzie
They had given him a heavier round of painkillers to get him home and Liz was starting to kick herself for not finding someone to help. He had been itching to get out of the hospital to the point that she was half afraid that his promise to her that he would stay until the doctors released him wouldn't hold until they actually did. All he wanted to do was get home and he would rest as much as his body demanded. He promised. Really, she thought there was a good chance that he was just uncomfortable around Nik who might or might not be forced to report things back to Reddington. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that.
So they had given him the painkillers that had hit in earnest on their drive back, and the two flights of stairs up to the apartment had taken nearly twenty minutes by the time it was all said and done. Once they reached the apartment they were both exhausted and Tom fell back on the couch like he wasn't planning on moving for some time. He leaned back, toeing his shoes off, and grimaced as he straightened his leg out on the sofa.
"How're you feeling?" Liz risked as she watched him.
"Crappy," he admitted, the honesty a little surprising. She glanced over to see his eyes were already closed and his expression was tight.
Liz forfeited the short trek to the kitchen for tea and turned instead to move over to her ex husband. She reached down, her hand going to his forehead and then to smooth back his dark hair, and he gave a soft sound as he leaned into her touch. She chewed on her bottom lip for a second before tapping him on the side, signalling him to scoot, and he did so sluggishly, never quite opening his eyes. After she took a seat next to him she swallowed hard. She had come so close to losing him. It was amazing what those sorts of revelations did to a person. The idea of living her life without him, even after everything, was terrifying.
"You okay?"
His voice was soft, but when Liz's gaze flickered back to him she saw unfocused eyes staring at her. "Just worried about you."
"Don't. 'm fine," he slurred, clumsily reaching up to push a strand of her hair back. His motion was heavy and a little awkward, and she caught his hand halfway there and pressed a kiss to his palm.
"I know," she murmured. "I know you are. Let me worry just a little over you, won't you?"
Tom chuckled and she saw that quirked, half smile that he gave that was entirely real. It had grown over their time since they had started moving back towards understanding one another. Funny how small and hesitant it had begun, like he was afraid of saying just the wrong thing at the wrong time. It had been that way until she had told him that she wanted him under no uncertain terms, and then it was like an old light had clicked on behind his eyes with the way he'd looked at her. They had just laid there that night, wrapped in each other's arms, and talked. They had had no idea what had happened or that they would have the chance to be parents together again. So much had changed, yet some things, little things and large both, showed just how true they had always been.
Liz looked down at the man half dozing on her couch, his hand still clutching hers and his expression softening just a little as he edged closer and closer to sleep. On impulse, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead and found dark blue eyes blinking open. "Did I fall asleep?" he asked groggily. "I think the medication's a little stronger."
She cracked a smile. "Time to ask all the questions I wasn't sure you'd tell me the truth on?" she teased.
Tom's brows drew together and he shifted, blinking rapidly as if he were trying to clear some of the fog away. "You can ask, Liz. I won't lie to you. I'll try not to lie to you. I'll do my best."
There was something about the way he said it, catching himself, backpedalling, and correcting, as if he were so used to saying whatever made the conversation easier that it was his natural go-to. It was, she supposed, and he was trying to break that for her. "Thank you."
"I'm serious," he pressed. "Really. Ask me anything."
Liz found herself laughing softly at the earnesty in his voice and she raised his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to the rough knuckles. "Okay, let me think," she murmured, mentally going back through some of the questions she had stored away.
Tom seemed bothered by that. "You have a lot? Ones you think I'd lie to you on?"
"I don't know if I necessarily thought you'd lie, just… stuff we haven't covered, I guess."
He settled a little bit at that and nodded. "'kay."
"Why do you never call me Lizzie anymore?" she asked, the question popping to mind. It wasn't the most serious one she could have asked him, but with the way he was fading in and out, she wasn't sure he would be awake long enough to get into certain things. That, and with the emotional turmoil, she wasn't sure she wanted to touch certain topics with a ten foot pole if she had the option of choosing. He might be willing, but she was perfectly sober and would be left crying after he had dozed off in blissful ignorance.
Tom blinked at her. "You told me not to."
The words left him with such certainty that they caused her to stop and stare a moment, racking her brain to remember when she would have told him not to call her by the nickname that she had only ever allowed her father and her husband to call her. Red called her by the nickname, sure, but allowing him to do so might have been a stretch.
"I think you did," he continued, looking a little less certain now. "When… after you shot me you and I were trying to get out of the building… to the car. I called you Lizzie and you told me not to, didn't you?"
"How do you even remember that?" Liz breathed. She hadn't. She had been so angry and so terrified that day that she wasn't sure she trusted her own memory for the details of what happened. The gun had gone off, he had fallen back, and then he had stepped forward again. From that point until she met with Ellie she had gone into auto-pilot. She remembered keeping Red from putting another bullet in him, speaking to him and him telling her his secret, and finally deciding to save his life…. because even then she couldn't imagine her world without Tom Keen in it at least in some capacity.
Now that she thought about it, though, she could vaguely recall the back and forth. He had wanted to stop and for her to just leave him and she'd been so angry at him. After everything he had just wanted to give up, to take the easy way out after all the pain he had caused her. He had called her Lizzie and she had screamed at him that only her father and her husband were allowed to call her that.
"Hey?" his soft voice broke through her thoughts and she felt his thumb ghosting across her cheeks, wiping at tears she didn't even know were falling. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to-"
"You didn't. You answered my question." Liz closed her eyes and tried to regain control, squeezing them until the tears stopped at least for the moment. "I was really angry that day."
The man she couldn't help but love snorted a laugh. "Yeah? Didn't notice," he chuckled.
"Not just for what you did," she confessed. "Don't get me wrong… that was most of it, but then you were just ready to give up. I was so angry at you that you were going to leave me without answers, without at least understanding why it had happened, and…" There they were. The tears were back. "And you were going to leave me without you," she managed, her voice breaking. "I'd already lost you. Again and again and-"
Tom was sitting up then, pulling her into his arms and hushing her softly as his fingers made their way through her hair in a soothing motion. She leaned into him. "It's okay, babe. It's okay, just let it out. I'm not going anywhere. I promise, as long as you'll have me, I'm right here. You're not going to lose me. Never again."
She tightened her grip and clung to him, the tears falling in earnest and he never loosened his hold on her. His touch was steady and it finally calmed her enough that she pulled back and found him watching her patiently. "You and Sam. You're the only ones I wanted to call me that," she sniffed. She wasn't sure it needed to be said, but she wanted him to know.
He gave her a slow nod. "Okay. I love you, Lizzie."
Liz's smile tilted her lips even through her tears and she leaned forward and kissed him. "I love you too," she breathed and sat up straight, her palm touching his cheek and lingering there. "It's been a long day. Bed?"
"Yes," he chuckled. "That would be amazing, or I'm going to end up just falling asleep here on the couch."
"You'd regret that in the morning."
He nodded sleepily and Liz stood, waiting for him to shift his weight. She handed him the cane that Nik had sent them home with and he grumbled as he took hold of it, using it to help him stand and keep weight off of his injured leg. They moved into the room together and changed for bed. He had some of his clothes already there before he'd left and she had gone to the boat to get more before bringing him home from the hospital that evening. Once he was better, maybe, they could get the rest of his rather limited personal belongings. This was home now, even if there wasn't a formal invitation. She wanted to make sure he understood that she wanted him there.
Tom slipped into his side of the bed and Liz watched him sink into the pillow like he might never choose to resurface if it were left to him. She felt the smile return as she leaned over, kissed his rough cheek, and circled the bed to her side. Once she was under the covers she felt him scoot closer, his breath against her neck and an arm going carefully around her middle. "This okay?" he asked, his voice thick with near-sleep.
"Perfect."
"Love you, Lizzie."
"Love you too," she answered, the smile remaining as she put her hand over his and sank back into his embrace. They could never put the pieces of their life back together the way it had been, not after everything that had happened, but maybe, just maybe, they could take those fragments and build something new. She wanted to, because while she could do this without him, she didn't want to.
Notes: I've had a rough weekend so I felt the need to sink into some fluff. Got to love the fluff.
