The hotel room's television screen blinked from a western to a daytime soap to a basketball game. Although Jacob's eyes were on the screen, his focus was his peripheral view of Shaq Jr. His actual name was Dembe, according to Reddington, but since the kid didn't respond to Jacob, no matter what he called him, Jacob figured he could use whatever name he felt like.

It had been a long four hours. Jacob had made an effort to be friendly to the behemoth he'd been left to babysit. He'd offered to take the kid anywhere from video game arcades to strip clubs, but Shaq Jr. had not said one freaking word to him. He hadn't even responded when Jacob had asked what he wanted for lunch. Jacob had ultimately ordered them both steaks with fries, figuring if the unjolly brown giant didn't want it, Jacob would eat it later.

He was feeling irritated and objectively he knew he had little reason to be. This had been a good day. He was being well-paid to sit in a warm, safe hotel room and watch TV. Reddington had told him he was under no obligation to get the kid out of the room, or even engage him in conversation. So what if he didn't get the bonus money? Jacob had offered his babysittee every possible enticement to leave. It wasn't his fault Shaq Jr. wasn't interested in anything, but sketching in his little art pad. He should just let things lie, and spend the next week goofing off, enjoying room service, and watching TV. It would be the smart play. He sighed and landed on the sports channel. Orlando Magic Vs Las Angeles Lakers.

"Hey Shaq Jr. You're Dad's on TV." Jacob was shocked when the boy lifted his head to look Jacob right in the eye.

"Do not speak of my father." The giant turned his attention back to the art pad. Jacob was perplexed. Had he accidently struck a nerve?

"Wow, six whole words. Let me just ask, while you're in such a chatty mood: what is the deal will you and Reddington? I mean you guys don't exactly look related." Shaq Jr. didn't acknowledge the comment, but Jacob would swear his grip on the pencil was tightening.

"Do you work for him? Because I'm having trouble seeing it. Don't get me wrong you're a big freaking hulk, and you probably could act as his bodyguard or muscle or whatever, but I got to think anyone who's too chicken shit to leave his hotel room wouldn't be a hell of a lot of use to him."

The pencil snapped inside the kid's huge hands and Jacob felt enormously gratified at the reaction. Finally he was having some kind of impact on the mountain man. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered he should probably stop, but Jacob was easily able drown it out. He was sick of being ignored, of being treated like he was nothing, not just by this kid, but by everyone he'd ever known. He was going to heard, even if it amounted to nothing more that the a fly's buzzing in the giant's ear.

"Are you like a pet? A mascot maybe? Or are you his boyfriend-" Shaq Jr. charged at him so suddenly Jacob didn't have time to react. Before he knew it, he found himself thrown backward into the hotel dresser. Jacob felt a sharp pain as the back of his head made contact with the edge of the furniture.

"Never speak disrespectfully of me or Raymond, ever again!" Jacob blinked, more concerned at the moment with the back of his head than the aspiring WWF fighter who had thrown him across the room like a ragdoll. He gingerly touched the back of his skull and his fingers came back wet with blood.

"Shit." This wasn't good. The amount of blood suggested this wasn't some dinky cut he could just ignore. He'd need stitches at the very least and stitches meant an urgent care establishment. Those places were filled with helpful adults dying to turn him in to social services. He glanced up a Shaq to find his expression had transformed from rage to guilt.

"You need a doctor." Jacob rolled his eyes and stood. The room swam a bit, but he was able to steady himself.

"No shit, Sherlock. Does Reddington keep first aid stuff around here?" The behemoth nodded and went into the room's bathroom. When he emerged he was carrying bandages and scissors.

"Sit." Jacob was tempted to refuse the command, simply for the sake of refusing, but for once his better judgment prevailed. He let Shaq Jr. bandage his head and the guy was surprising gentle, especially considering he'd been the one to crack it in the first place. When the giant was finished Jacob pulled his thick cotton cap over his head. He checked in the mirror to make sure the bandages were hidden. With a little bit of luck Reddington wouldn't notice and he could convince his attacker not to say anything. He'd been so stupid screwing up the biggest potential pay day he'd ever had, just to run his mouth.

"Here." Jacob turned to see his babysittee was thrusting a card with a scribbled address. "There is a doctor there. Kozlov. Tell him Raymond sent you and he will help you."

"Thanks." Jacob put the card in his pocket and went into the bathroom for a washcloth to clean the dresser with. He needed to removed all evidence of this little incident. He could feel Shaq Jr.'s eyes were still on him. When he finished he shoved the washcloth into his jeans and sat back down on the bed, intending to watch TV for the remaining hours of babysitting duty.

"Why are you still here?" It took Jacob a moment to realise the kid had expected him to take the card and run out the door to get his head checked out.

"Reddington's isn't back yet." Reddington's firing him would have a worse long term effect than losing a little blood. The bandages were applied pressure, slowing the blood flow, and he hadn't blacked out. He'd be fine. Probably.

"You need a doctor now." Damn the kid was stubborn. Shaq Jr. was probably worried Jacob was going to rat him him out. He didn't need to stress about that, as Jacob could hardly accuse the guy without admitting what he's said to set him off.

"I need this job more. I'm not going to tell him, if that's what you're worried about." The giant's scowl deepened. Abruptly he marched over to the closet and removed a winter coat, hat, gloves, and scarf.

"We go now." Jacob blinked, unable to process what was happening. This kid had been adamant about not leaving the hotel for any reason, but he was willing to face the elements so that Jacob could go see a doctor right away? Jacob didn't get it. What was the angle Shaq Jr. was playing here? He knew he wasn't going to get in trouble with Reddington. The kid didn't like Jacob, not that Jacob had given him any reason to. So what was his deal?

"Jacob." The kid had dressed and was offering Jacob, not only Jacob's jacket, but also his own scarf. The kid had also used his name for the first time. After a moment Jacob accepted both items of clothing.

"Alright Dembe, fine. We go now."

"What the hell are you smirking about? You think this is funny, dragging me here to wait for an hour?" Jacob returned from his recollections, to find to find Elizabeth Scott glaring at him. Apparently escaping the tedium of their present situation via daydreaming was not allowed. Reddington had been teaching him about memory palaces, which were useful thing to escape to during long periods of captivity or in this case lengthy stretches in waiting rooms.

Intitally he'd wanted to pass the time talking to Scott, but she'd made it very clear that wasn't happening. She was still holding the whole 'break-in/blackmailing her boyfriend' thing against him. It was unfortunate, because he did enjoy verbally sparring with her. She was gutsy, unpredictable, and smart. Also very pretty.

Jacob slammed the brakes on that particular thought. He'd noted her beauty before and it hadn't worried him. There was no law against appreciating a girl's aesthetics. Of course that was all before he'd seen her live, in the flesh. Before he'd stood in the same room as her. Before the entire length of his body had be pressed against hers.

Never in his life had he experienced such an intense surge of attraction and it could not have fixated on a worse object. Not only was she under eighteen (only seven months under, but still), but she was someone who was obviously of great importance to Reddington. His objective was to earn Reddington's trust and the best way to screw that up was to act on his stupid crush.

"I didn't drag you anywhere. I told you that I'd bring you the file. You were the one who insisted on coming with me." The look Scott shoot him was a good reminder that even he did have less than honorable intentions, he'd have a snowball's chance in Hell of achieving them.

"Yeah, like I'd trust you to bring me the real file."

"That hurts, Lizzie." Scott's father had warned him about using 'Lizzie' as a diminutive. Scott reserved the name for her father, and her father alone. So why had he said it? If he had to guess it was because history had a nasty habit of repeating itself. At least there weren't any dressers around this time.

"You want to find out what really hurts, call me 'Lizzie' one more time." Jacob raised his eyebrow innocently.

"What's wrong with Lizzie? It's what your father calls you."

"And are you my father?" Not by a long shot.

"No, but I am your baby daddy, remember." Jacob smirked as Scott gritted her teeth. According to the official papers he'd drawn up to get into see his contact, he and Liz were an unwed couple who had recently given up a child and were exercising their 60 day right to change their minds. When he'd told Liz, she hadn't been happy.

"No, what you are is an ass. You couldn't have just told them you were my brother?" Jacob scratched his chin and pretended to think about that.

"Yes, I suppose I could have...but I didn't." He knew he should stop poking the bear, but it was so much fun.

"I hate you." Jacob chuckled at that one.

"People usually do when they first meet me, even my brother." He paused for a second. Why had he thrown that last bit there, about his brother? His MO was to get as much information from someone as possible while revealing as little as he could about himself. Reddington had taught him that. The one thing you definitely don't do is discuss your vulnerabilities.

"That doesn't surprise me. Even as a baby you were probably obnoxious." Scott had assumed he meant a biological brother. He probably should just leave it at that. But he didn't want to. Jacob suddenly realised he wanted to talk about Dembe with her.

The scores of shrinks he'd seen over the course of his life had all agreed on one thing; apart from the fact that he was an emotionally stunted freak; that talking about your problems could help you deal with them. He had in the past discussed things with Dembe, but he couldn't talk to Dembe about Dembe. Reddington was also too close to the whole situation. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world to speak to Scott about it, as long as he was careful. After all it wasn't like a farm girl from Nebraska was ever going to be able to use it against him.

"I wasn't a baby. I was fourteen, and he was fifteen. We were foster brothers. He threw me into a dresser, and cracked my skull. To be fair, I'd provoked him a little first." Jacob waited to see if she'd took the bait, despite her stated intention of conversing with him only when it was absolutely necessary.

"I'm shocked. So are you still close?" Jacob smiled. He didn't care if it was boredom or good manners that had prompted the inquiry, he was going to take the opening.

"Yeah. Or a least I thought so, until the idiot got into his head he wanted to move back to his "homeland" Africa. It's not even like he had a lot of happy memories there. I don't get it." Jacob's gut twisted with the old anger. Dembe had left before Jacob had been released from his mandatory bedrest. Dembe had told him that he wanted to go before Jacob recovered and decided to 'do something rash' to prevent him from leaving. Jacob had been toying with the idea of telling the freedom fighters Dembe was a mercenary hired by the government to drawn them into an ambush and that agreeing to meet with him would be tantamount to suicide. Still, it had just been the product of an idle mind, restless with the boredom and helplessness of being stuck in a hospital bed. Jacob wouldn't really have gone through with the plan. Probably.

"Roots are important to some people. It probably felt like something he had to do." Jacob could not believe what he'd just heard. What he'd wanted was her agreement, that yes, Dembe was being stupid, letting himself being pulled backward into that mess of a continent. For the first time since he met her, he found himself getting angry with Elizabeth Scott.

"Of course you would take his side." Scott narrowed her eyebrows at his accusatory tone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He knew he shouldn't do this. He was mad, and most of that angry had nothing to do with Elizabeth Scott, but suddenly his mind was making parallels between her choices and Dembe's. Hadn't she selfishly abandoned someone who cared about her to chase her past, just like Dembe had? Hadn't she jeopardized her future for the sake of this stupid quest?

"I mean why are you doing this? What do you hope to get out of it? You want to know who your real family is? How about the guy who took you in when you had nothing. Who fed you, and taught you, and loved you. The guy going out of his mind because his daughter took off without even telling him why." Scott's face flushed with anger.

"I know Sam is my family and that is exactly why I didn't tell him. I didn't want him to jump to the same stupid ass conclusion that you did. I'm not an idiot. My birth parents probably either ditched me, or died. I'm not expecting some kind of tearful reunion with those people, whoever they are. That fantasy died a long time ago." Jacob blinked. This was news to him. His indignation blew out of him as quickly as it has flowed in and all he was left with was genuine bewilderment.

"Then why?" Scott was silent for almost thirty seconds before responding.

"Do you like read?" That seemed out of left field, but Jacob assumed she was going somewhere with it.

"Yes."

"Okay. Imagine someone's given you this book and you start reading it and it's great. It's the best book you've ever read. Then suddenly you realise that someone ripped out the first chapter. You try not to let it bother you, but after a while that first chapter is all you can think about. It might be boring, or horrible, and it could had very little to do with how the story's going to end, but even so, wouldn't you want to read it? Wouldn't you need to read it?" Blue, imploring eyes stared into his and for the first time he saw a hint of vulnerability. They were the eyes of a girl who was searching for the truth. She wasn't looking to trade up for a better family, she was just looking for an answer.

"Maybe I would." A heartbeat passed, and for the first time, Liz smiled at him; a small, but genuine smile. Jacob momentarily forgot to breathe.

"Ms. Walsh? Mr. Evans? Mr. Reeves will see you now." Jacob broke eye contact and stood as Liz did the same. He motioned for her to go ahead of him, following the assistant to appropriate office. Jacob only hoped whatever answers they found there were the ones Liz was looking for.