Not Going Anywhere

They had come to his home. Where his family lived. Where his child lived. They could have picked him up anywhere else, but they had come here.

Agnes was wailing from her room, the sound of the fight and then the gunshots no doubt terrifying the little girl. Tom struggled to get to his knees. If he could do that he could get to his feet, and if he could get to his feet he could keep fighting. The problem was that he was having trouble getting his body to obey the first command to roll over so he could get to his knees.

"No, no," one of the the intruders said as he came into Tom's line of vision. The younger man gave a muffled groan as a boot pressed down on his chest to make sure he stayed put. "You don't want another hole in you, do you? You're losing enough blood as it is." He leaned in a little and Tom choked on a cry, everything in him feeling the movement and his vision pulsed dangerously. "Where're the bones?"

Dark blue eyes narrowed. "Go to hell," he managed, the last word half swallowed as the man added a bit more pressure to his sternum with the heavy boot.

"You've got a loud kid in there. Marcus, go get her. Maybe Mr Keen will be a little more open when it's his daughter rather than him."

"No," Tom gasped. "No, please!"

He was struggling as best he could, but between the boot holding him down and the blood loss after taking… two bullets? Three? He wasn't sure, but he knew the danger signs and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to that ledge.

There was a loud sound down the small hallway, like the front door being kicked in, and gunshots followed immediately. Tom struggled to look and saw one of the thugs hit the floor hard, his stare vacant. He hoped that was the one that had been going for Agnes.

He couldn't get a clear line of sight on the new shooter, but the boot left his chest and its owner was gunned down almost immediately, landing hard at Tom's side. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision.

Raymond Reddington came into view, gun aimed, and it was like Tom was living in the worst case scenario of everything that had happened. It would be easy to pin his death on the thugs that had broken in. Liz might never know it was her father that had pulled the final trigger and she certainly wouldn't know why. The secret would die with him. He lifted a trembling hand up, completely defenseless where he lay and he could still hear Agnes crying.

Two different shades of blue eyes met and he saw Reddington pull the trigger once and then again. Tom tensed, waiting for the fresh rush of pain, but it didn't come. Instead he saw Reddington kick the now lifeless body of the man that had been after the suitcase further to the side and the older man knelt down. "Tom," he breathed. "Did you tell them where it is? The suitcase. The bones. Tom, look at me."

The command drew his attention, pulling him from that ledge. "Agnes," he choked out his daughter's name.

Red nodded. "Dembe is checking on her. Focus here and keep your eyes open. Did you tell them?"

"No," Tom managed, the word riding out on a breath.

"She's safe. They didn't hurt her," Dembe's voice sounded and Tom felt himself relax a little.

"Did you make the call?" Red asked.

"Yes."

Tom grimaced and he could feel unconsciousness trying to pull him under, making it harder and harder to work through the dense fog. He blinked hard, a thought striking him. "I promised her," he managed.

"What's that?"

"Promised her I wouldn't…. leave again."

Reddington's lips quirked downward. "And you won't," he said after a moment. "You should never have gotten involved with this. What was Kate thinking?"

"You need to tell her," he managed. "Whatever - whoever - that is…. Liz deserves the truth."

"You and I both know the truth isn't always that simple, is it?" Reddington said pointedly.

"Should I call Elizabeth?" Dembe asked from off to the side and Tom swallowed hard, trying to focus, but he was losing his battle with consciousness.

"From the car. We'll need to get him…"

Where they were taking him, he had no idea. The words faded as the shadows that had been hedging his vision up until that point finally closed in and Tom felt himself slip under.

"He's going to be fine, Elizabeth."

Her pacing halted midstep and she turned on him. "Fine? Men broke into our home, they shot my husband, threatened our daughter and for what?" He was involved in this. She didn't know how and she didn't know to what extent, but Reddington was involved. It couldn't be a coincidence that he had just been there.

Agnes started to fuss in the playpen she had been sleeping in in the makeshift waiting room, her mother's strained voice waking her. Liz moved over and scooped her up, shushing and rocking her.

"You're not aware what your husband has been involved with since he came home?" Reddington asked from his seat, and Liz frowned, shifting Agnes.

"If he's hurt because of something you dragged him into-"

"I assure you, Elizabeth, Tom is perfectly capable of finding trouble without any help from me."

"Still not a denial," she snapped. "You were there pretty fast for someone that wasn't directly involved."

"I apologize. Next time I receive a tip that you or your family are in danger, should I give it a certain amount of time before going in? Would that make you more comfortable?"

Liz snorted, not appreciating the sarcasm dripping from every word. She didn't have a chance to respond before the doctor walked out, pausing. "He's waking up. I'd like to keep the stressors down to a minimum, so one person at a time and-"

Reddington stood, reaching out for Agnes. "Come here, sweet girl. Why don't you come see me?"

Agnes went willingly to him, going for his hat once, but deciding she was too tired for the effort after he dodged. She settled in against him, snug and quieting down. Liz felt a pang of guilt. Red had saved him. She still thought there was a lot more to this story, but if he hadn't been there when he was - regardless of why he'd been there - Liz would have lost everything.

She reached out to her daughter, hand on her back, and let her gaze slide to Red. "Thank you."

"He's stubborn, Elizabeth. He will be fine."

She nodded and turned, following the doctor into the back room that had been made into an OR in record time. It now served as recovery and she felt her chest tighten as she approached the bed. Tom was pale against the sheets, attached to several machines with cuts and bruises and gauze wrapped around deeper wounds to protect the stitching. At least the doctor had removed the breathing tube from earlier.

As she stopped by the bedside she saw one dark blue eye crack open sleepily, the other following and his gaze slowly tried to focus in on her. "Hey," he croaked, his hand moving a little clumsily at his side and she reached to take it.

"Hey yourself. Do you remember what happened?"

He squeezed her hand, his expression shifting as he worked through the pain medication they had given him. Slowly his eyes widened and panic reflected in them. "Agnes-"

"She's fine. Reddington has her just outside." She ran her thumb along his beaten knuckles, trying to soothe him. If he got too riled the doctor would kick her out. "You were shot. Do you know who the guys were?"

And that was guilt there. She hated that expression on him, because the confessions that followed were never pleasant.

"I'm sorry, Liz." He swallowed hard. "I've been trying to… to get answers. I didn't want to drag you into it without answers." He grimaced and one of the machines gave a warning beep.

"Hey," Liz said softly, her free hand moving to push back dark hair.

"I know I promised… I was gonna tell you."

"I know, babe," she murmured. Whatever it was wasn't good, but getting angry at him now wouldn't help either of them. He needed rest and she needed him alive. She had nearly lost him too many times. "And you will, but when you're feeling better, okay? You promised me you weren't leaving. That's the one I need you to keep right now. We'll take anything else as it comes." She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and heard him loose a breath.

"Not going anywhere," he managed, sounding like he was already drifting again.

"Good. I'm holding you to that." She glanced to see he had fallen back asleep and she squeezed his hand, pulling it up to her lips and kissing his loosely clutched fingers. "I love you."

They would get through this. It wouldn't be easy, but nothing in their lives were. Whatever it was, they'd get through it together.

Notes: Like most Tom fans, I've been processing that crazy scene at the end of 5.01. I've had a couple of friends mention that they believe it's a misdirect set up to make us think that Red's shooting at Tom, but instead whoever was after Tom was already there and that's who Red was after. I really like the theory and I'll be interested to see how it plays out over the season.

And you guys know me... if I get a chance for a little hurt/comfort between the Keens, I have a hard time turning that down ;)