Outstretched dirty hands just like a child…
A/N: Spoilers for 6x08. It will be in three (?) parts. I have changed the end of the conversation where her and Jennifer talk about kidnapping Renard.
Ugh I had to use the final scene and honestly it was painstaking. How did they write any of his scenes? Cardboard man, whoever coined that - you win at life (think it was melbob55 so kudos to you). You can switch off your brain when he's on screen but try and write him? No. Remind me to never do it again. Anyway I could only watch the scene so many time so I embellished.
Song is: Body - SYML
Part One: Hungry little fool, but you were mine…
In the darkness of his cell Red kept seeing her beautiful face, her brow furrowed in a stern expression, her lips pressed into a thin hard line. Her hair had been loose, swept over both shoulders to frame her face. He remembered the rich blue of her eyes shining back at him in a piercing glare. Even angry she was still impossibly beautiful. His belly fluttered just thinking about her, warmth spreading out across his chest to warm his cold and tired limbs. He hadn't spoken to her since that morning when she'd told him she wasn't playing his game and yet she had taken his lead and run with it. He smiled in the darkness at her reliability. Her steady constant presence in his life these last few years had been welcomed even if he had never said it. He had longed for something steady in his turbulent life, something solid to hold onto and then there she was, like a guiding light on a dark night. The warmth eased into an ache. The parallel lines they seem to run on where blurring, intermingling and he wasn't sure he was ready. Could he really start confiding in her, was she that steady? Could she handle his burdens, could she handle the weight of them. He didn't want her to, he didn't want to mar the lines, defile her with the darkness he held within.
When Dembe had called to tell him he had retrieved what they needed, his words spilling into a conversation he'd had with Elizabeth. He'd felt caught out, doing something he shouldn't in the darkness of this place. Had he wanted to keep what they had developed from his closest friend unsure where Dembe saw the two of them? He hadn't hidden his love for her but when confronted with it he felt like he'd muddied the water, sullied her somehow. Her words coming from Dembe's mouth felt like a reprimand and yet they weren't harsh. Dembe was how he always was, a calming presence. The ache eased into longing the more he went over it. Her ultimatum coming from Dembe, reiterated by his closest friend stung more than he would've thought. She had confided in Dembe, told him what they had talked about privately and yet he couldn't be angry. The two people he loved the most and she had sought out his confidence. She probably assumed he knew, maybe she had done him a favour because now he wouldn't have to broach the subject with his friend. When Dembe had told him about his faux pas regarding Katarina, at first he had dismissed it but as Dembe explained the anger in Elizabeth's features he worried that this was why she hadn't visited.
He squeezed the hard plastic of the phone in his fist, buried under the folds of his single blanket. He wanted to hear her voice, know she didn't bare him any ill will, just to know they were okay but something was stopping him. He unclenched his fist, closing his eyes to the uneasy feeling unable to grasp the tendrils of doubt in his mind. He thought of her waiting for him to call, perhaps feeling similarly. He didn't want to assume she felt the same longing.
It rang five times before voicemail kicked in, he frowned wondering whether she was sleeping or not within reach. Ordinarily he wouldn't have worried but not being able to check on her was an itch he couldn't scratch. His chest became tight and he sat up, reaching for Ben who was curled up in the crook of his arm. He hit speed dial again, listening to the agonising rings before voicemail kicked in again. Usually he wouldn't leave a message but he was concerned and maybe she would call back if she was in the shower and hadn't heard it ring. He listened to her clipped tone, the professionalism in her voice as she instructed him to leave a message, at least it was her and not an automated voice.
'Elizabeth…' he paused, now unsure what to say. He didn't want to fumble over his words. He deleted the message and hung up.
He listened to it ring again, her voice washing over him numbing the ache in his body.
'Elizabeth, I'm sorry to have missed you…' He paused, silently cursing his ineptitude to say what he wanted. 'I wanted to apologise for how we left things yesterday. I thought you might come back so we could clear the air. I spoke with Dembe, he told me what you talked about. I want to discuss it with you.' He took a slow agonising breath. 'I do want you and I would like nothing more than to make you happy, I just find it…' He let the breath go, moving his hand and instinctively reaching into Ben's soft fur. 'Well I find it difficult but I'm not one to back away from a challenge. What I mean to say is that I'm willing to try…' He watched Ben stretch out for a moment, allowing the line to go silent before he spoke again, 'Goodnight Lizzy, maybe you'll call back…'
Liz woke up to her phone buzzing, her head was heavy and her eyes didn't want to open as she struggled for consciousness. She'd taken some cold meds last night and that coupled with the wine and not much dinner had knocked her out entirely. It was probably the best nights sleep she'd had since he had last been in her bed. She closed her mind to such thoughts, reaching for the phone.
'Hello…' She mumbled, squinting in the morning light. Her nasally tone had receded over night.
'Liz? Did I wake you?' Jen's voice was uncertain. Liz blinked struggling to remember the events of the previous night but as she forced herself to sitting it all came flooding back.
'Yea but it's okay, I took some cold meds so just feeling a little groggy…' She muttered, leaning one hand back to support her weight.
'Listen, I'm sorry about what happened last night. You let me use your place to work and have been so welcoming. I really dropped the ball. I know you have feelings towards Reddington, I just forget sometimes.' Liz froze as she heard the words fall from her sister's mouth. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes.
She cleared her throat, throwing back the sheets before swinging her feet onto the cold wood floor. 'It's okay, I wasn't feeling great. I just wanted to take some responsibility for my choices and not keep blaming someone else because it's easier…' She sighed, hauling her tired heavy body to standing.
'Okay… I want you to be able to talk to me about things without me flying off the handle. I know that's something I need to work on…' She let her voice trail off waiting for a response from Liz.
'Yeah I'd like that too…' She murmured, shrugging on her robe and heading toward the kitchen.
'Listen I'll pick up the groceries today on my way over and I'll see you later…' She hung up before Liz could reply.
She let out another sigh, noting the missed call as she placed the phone down against the marble countertop. Her belly dipping as she saw the number, a frisson of irritation accompanying it.
Liz had been waiting impatiently for Jennifer to arrive, a lead had panned out and she'd had photographs couriered over of Marguerite Renard outside her apartment in Baltimore, as soon as her source had relayed the information.
She ushered her sister into the room as she shrugged off her jacket, an excited buzz pent up inside her. She reached for the photographs, walking the short distance to the table and slapping down the first photo.
'I found her. Marguerite Renard. The nurse who used to work for Dr. Koehler walking her dog in an upscale neighborhood, no nurse practitioner could possibly afford.' She slapped down the rest of the photos in a line then twirled around, raising her finger toward the ceiling as Jen laughed picking up the first photo to examine it.
'Did you talk to her?' She asked, her attention still on the photo.
'She used to help criminals get new identities. I doubt she wants to chat about it with a perfect stranger, especially one who works for the FBI.' She perched on the edge of the chair behind Jennifer.
'Okay. So what do we do?' Jen wondered, not looking at Liz for the moment.
'Well, since we can't go to the Bureau, we got to get her ourselves, get her to talk.' As she spoke, Jen turned to look at her over her shoulder, a sudden frown consuming her brow.
'You mean like kidnap her?' She asked lowering her voice, raising her eyebrows in wariness. Liz's agitation was rising, as she watched the disapproval flit across Jennifer's face.
'She was in the room when the man we know as Reddington changed his face.' She emphasised the words with an edge, coming closer, pinching her fingers together and gesticulating with her hands, to point out the frustration she felt at explaining this to her sister. Jen turned to face her, the shock evident on her face.
'That's what you mean. You mean, like, physically get her.' Jen asked for clarification, her voice rising. She held the photo between both hands, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.
'She, knows who he was. She knows everything.' Liz almost snapped, her voice raising by octaves. The sudden urgency she was feeling welling up inside her, screaming for release.
'That's crazy! I can't… I can't do that!' Jen turned away from her, walking toward the window as if to put space between them but Liz followed.
'You got to remember why we're doing this. We had a plan…' Her voice raised shrilly, she clapped her hands together, her voice emulating the frustration she felt. 'And it is working… Sideline Reddington so we can get to the truth. Marguerite Renard has the answers. Our answers.' Her voice raised further, leaving Jen standing mutely infront of her. Liz's glassy eyes flashing back at Jennifer.
'This is what you meant right?' She murmured keeping her voice low in comparison to her sister's. 'This is one of the things, you're capable of? Because he's not here, he's not making you do this. You're an FBI agent and you're talking about kidnapping a woman.' She spoke calmly, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
Liz took a deep breath, her fingers running through her hair as she tried to quell the desperate need to rush in and make her sister understand why this was needed. She wanted to shake her, grab her shoulders and just shake some sense into her. She turned, her fingers stilling in her hair, tugging at the roots to ground herself. She closed her eyes for a second, squashing down the urgency before allowing her hands to fall and facing Jennifer once again.
She shrugged as she met her sister's blue eyes, 'Yes… It is… But you see why we have to do this right? We are so close… So close and really what choice do we have at this point?'
Jennifer eyed her for a second, a look of uncertainty against her features. 'Okay…' She agreed reluctantly then turned, leaning her weight on the back of the dining chair where Liz had sat the previous evening. Liz watched her for a moment, the sag in her shoulders, the uncomfortable tone of her voice. Her heart constricted for her sister, her innocent sister who hadn't had to do the things she had.
'So what do I have to do?' She asked quietly, looking down at the photos.
'Nothing.' Liz shook her head, raising one hand in dismissal. 'I'll handle it…' She reached out for the photos as Jen's attention returned to her. 'All you got to do is drive… It'll be simple, we'll go after dark… I will take care of it…' She told her, in feigned assurance.
It was almost lights out and he was feeling introspective. He'd declined the offer to help the warden by mediating between two rival gangs. As a reward for his refusal the warden had smashed one of this records but he'd kept his features still and his anger in check. He still hadn't spoken to Elizabeth and had thought idly throughout the day that she would be there at visiting time but as he passively waited to be called, visiting hours came and went. It was now nearing thirty-six hours since he had seen or heard from her, he ached with the uncertainty of what had happened. He'd kept going over every word and every glance, every time she held his eye and he'd kept going over his conversation with Dembe to understand what was keeping her. He waited for the guard to come around, locking him in before he reached for the phone and settled on the bed.
Liz was on her way to Baltimore with Jennifer when they had stopped for gas and a bathroom break in their newly acquired van. She was just washing her hands, alone in the single bathroom when her phone began to buzz in the pocket of her jeans. She cursed silently, closing her eyes as her stomach dipped when she read the number, that fission of irritation prickling up her spine. Now was definitely not the time to be speaking to him. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to have a conversation with him. She had listened to his voicemail early that morning, also in the bathroom to escape Jen's ears. His ambiguous message, the timbre of his voice and the uncertainty that it held made her ache but now she needed a clear head and didn't need the distraction.
'Hello…' She answered, unsure why her body had overruled her decision to decline the call.
'Elizabeth? You're okay?' He sounded relieved and she winced, guilt gripping her stomach as she reached for a paper towel, holding the phone between her head and shoulder.
'Yes? Why wouldn't I be?' She asked casually with a hint of irritation. She hadn't expected him to be worried. He so often hid his insecurities, to hear him voice them now clutched her heart tightly.
'I thought you might have come for a visit…' He murmured his voice low and gravelly.
'Oh... No... Sorry, it's Saturday and without a case I had things to do…' Which wasn't technically untrue, she decided, placing the paper towel in the crowed trash can beside the sink.
'Of course…' He paused for a moment the echoes of the empty bathroom making their conversation reverberate around the tiles.
'Where are you?' He asked, confusion filling his voice.
'Oh I was actually in the bathroom, it's not really a great t…' She began before he interrupted.
'Your bathroom doesn't sound like that.' He made the observation as a truck rolled passed honking its horn. She closed her eyes tight, willing the panic in her chest to go away. She leaned heavily against the counter of the sink.
'I'm not at home…' She admitted softly, lowering her tone to match the echoes of the empty room.
'I got your voicemail but I haven't listened to it yet,' She lied trying to distract him from where she was and what she was doing.
'You're not on a date, are you?' He asked, a slight edge to his voice and she wondered briefly if she should say yes for the hell of it, a perfect distraction in an otherwise awkward conversation.
'Red! When have you ever known me to go on a date? And even if I was, it's not like we've made any promises to each other.' She only had to feign a little indignation, pushing herself to stand and aiming to say goodbye so she could exit the grungy bathroom.
'When I have known you to be out this late on a Saturday night?' He argued back matching her indignation, she wasn't sure if it was for her benefit or not.
She took a deep breath, quelling the urge to rise to his bait and argue back. 'Was there something that you wanted?' Desperately trying not to erupt in the small room, she squeezed her fist closed, digging her fingernails into her palm.
'Where are you Elizabeth?' He asked again, the edge in his voice still clear. She felt caught out but she knew that was probably just her guilt talking, she squeezed her fist.
'I stopped to get gas and needed the bathroom, is that a reasonable explanation for you?' She grumbled, frowning at her reflection in the grimy mirror. 'Should we talk about Dembe's little revelation or shall we save that for another time?' She added curtly, her irritation rising. He paused, silence descending over the line as another truck rolled by outside the door.
'Is that why you're avoiding me?' He asked with a hint of desperation and for a moment she was taken aback. He didn't say things like that, a sadness washed over her. She uncurled her fist, leaning her hip against the counter.
She took a deep breath, wondering whether this was a tactic to throw her off her game but she decided she wouldn't rise to any such avoidance tactics.
'Yeah I'm not doing this with you. The only one who's avoiding anything is you. Do you actually want to talk about something or can I hang up and exit this bathroom?' She kept her voice level, her emotions in check as she waited for his response.
'No one is stopping you from leaving the bathroom Elizabeth…' He groused down the line.
'Fine, I'll talk to you later then.' She unlocked the door, her hand resting against the handle about to open it.
'Wait…' he took an audible breath, 'I'm sorry this isn't going how I wanted it to go…' She waited anxiously, beginning to think that Jennifer would come looking for her at any moment. She opened the door and peaked outside, relieved to see that Jennifer was no where in sight. It was louder outside, the highway being relatively busy at this time.
'Just say it Red.' She urged softly, pausing to rest her weight against the wall of the building.
'I'm a little thrown, I like to think of you at home… In bed or elsewhere…' He murmured, he sounded a little despondent. 'It's easier to picture you like that, your hair loose across the white pillows…' His wistful gravelly voice trailed off. Liz came up to the corner of the gas station, where the forecourt was with her heart thudding in her chest. She stopped at his words, unnerved by them, at the despondence in his tone.
'Did something happen?' She asked, holding her position by the wall. 'Did someone make a move against you?' Her tone betraying her fears.
'No… I just thought you might be angry about what Dembe said…' He revealed at last, his tone still bordering on despondency.
'Oh I am but now isn't really time to discuss it…' She peeked around the corner, watching people walk back to their cars but there was no sign of Jennifer.
'Perhaps not…' Was that relief in his voice? 'I am trying Lizzy…' His voice trailed off.
'Then tell me what you're hiding and stop all of this, right now…' She felt irritation prickle up across her shoulders but she kept her tone level even if she felt that same urgency, she'd been feeling all day.
'And where would you like me to start, there's a lifetime of…' He began,
'Tell me what was in that duffle bag and why you didn't want me to see it?' She cut him off decisively, if he told her now would it be enough to put a stop to this plan or did she need to find out for herself? He fell silent, she couldn't even hear the softness of his breath. 'Tell me Red. Put an end to it…'
'Put an end to what?' He asked, she could picture the cogs turning in his brain as he tried to work out what she meant, the frown on his brow and his lips pressed together.
'If you want us to be together, you will tell me this one thing. This is where we start, this is where we are and this is where we go from here. So if you want that, you will tell me…' She allowed the desperation to slip out, did she want him to stop her?
'Elizabeth, I want to tell you but now, it's long and complicated and I want to see you…' He told her gently,
'Then un-complicate it!' She snapped, her patience waining, 'You have the power to say it right now, if you say it right now in this moment. I will believe you…' Just say it. She closed her eyes, allowing her head to fall back against the brick. She wanted to scream, her chest felt heavy with frustration.
'Elizabeth…' He spoke gently, as if to placate her but all he was doing was making the desperation worse. She did want him to stop her, stop this ridiculous plan. He could end it all right now and yet he wouldn't. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was handing him back the power to take over, like he had done so many times but how would they ever be honest with each other if he didn't trust her.
'Why can't you say it, why can't you trust me with it?' It was almost a whine, a plea for him to just say the words she needed to hear.
'It's not that simple. I do trust you, I do care about you. I just can't tell you right now…'
'I want to believe you. I do but the fact that you still can't tell me what was in the bag, what significance it had…' Her voice wavered as she struggled with the lump in her throat. She couldn't go back to Jennifer in tears.
'When I found out that Dembe knew my mother, the way he spoke about her, he made it sound like he had fond memories of her. It… It's upsetting… I can't keep doing this with you so when you finally want to be open, you can call but until then maybe we should just not talk about us, it's too painful… Listen I have to go, my car is blocking the pump…' She hit end call before he could protest or say anything further just as she saw Jennifer leaving.
'I got snacks.' She said brightly as Liz joined her at the car. She nodded dully, trying to smile.
The kidnapping of Marguerite Renard had been anything but simple. Reeling from her conversation with Reddington, Liz had been fairly quiet during the rest of the drive. Renard lived in an upscale neighbourhood and they had been parked up and waiting as she came back from walking her dog. Suddenly all hell had broken loose and Jennifer had been taken along with Renard by men in black SUVs. In the struggle she had been attacked by one of the men, being held down by her neck and the weight of his body. Her brain had slipped into fight mode, she had pulled her gun shooting the man in the head at close range. She'd bundled the body into the back of the stolen van and drove to the only place she could think of. She had sat trembling outside Ressler's apartment, blood covering both hands trying to calm herself enough to go up, the same urgency she'd felt all day filling her chest, her need to act, to solve the problem and do it now.
It probably wasn't the best way to meet Ressler's new girlfriend, hands covered in drying blood. 'It's not her's though…' Ressler had told Hannah, like that made any difference. She was barely present, her mind whirring going over the events of what had happened and what still needed to happen. Why had she gone to Ressler? Why not just solve this problem herself but he had left with her and they had driven to the Post Office in the stolen van. Did she really need him to take over, take charge of the situation? But she had confided in him despite that nagging voice in her head, telling him that Reddington was actually an imposter and she had been working with Jennifer to identify him.
They'd found the ID of the dead guard she had killed relatively quickly. He was a known associate of Marko Jankowics, a Hungarian drug dealer specialising in pure LSD who shipped to Canada and it was concluded that was the likely place where Jennifer would be held.
'I found the only four photos the Bureau had of Jankowics.' Ressler came through the door to her office, holding photographs of Jankowics, looking down at them as he bypassed her desk where she was sat. He placed them in front of her.
'That's her. Marguerite Renard.' She turned the photo, holding it up so he could see the woman. She sat forward in her seat, elbows on the desk as he took the photograph.
'She's his girlfriend.' He told her leaning his hands against the desk looking down on her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
'Now we know why she was being guarded so closely.' She surmised, watching Ressler's features, his eyebrows raised as he stood motionless.
'And how she could afford that penthouse apartment.' He looked away for the moment, thinking before standing straight, his hands in his back pockets.
'When she was Koehler's nurse, she was working around some of the world's most dangerous criminals. I guess she likes the type. Now what?' She watched Ressler move and come to rest against the filing cabinets, leaning his weight against them, his attention elsewhere.
'Well, if Jankowics has ties to Montreal, that's where that jet's headed. It's got to be across the border. Jennifer could be anywhere.' He surmised, his eyes coming back to her before his attention slipped.
'I got to call it in, tell Cooper.' She raised her eyebrows, watching him from her seat at the desk. What choice did she have if she wanted Jennifer back, they needed help.
'Should have gone to Cooper from the get-go, but now, uh, it's way past that. Now you only have one move left.' He told her, his attention wandering before coming back to her. There was something in his expression and her stomach sank.
'Go to Reddington?' She frowned up at him, her head to the side. Tightness bloomed across her chest, her stomach gripping with the thought of telling him, of going to him for help after how she had left it with him. How could she go to him now?
'He's gonna want to help. Jennifer's his daughter.' He told her, his attention clearly slipping as her face darkened over his faux pas.
'Jennifer is not his daughter, because he isn't Raymond Reddington.' She snapped, irritation prickled under her skin at the insinuation.
'Well, whoever he is, he runs a criminal empire, and if anyone can find Jennifer, it's Reddington.' He told her without apology.
She let out a small humourless laugh, 'What am I gonna say? I can't tell him the truth.' She told him incredulously, gesticulating with her hands, her eyes wide. Panic welling in her chest at just the thought of it.
'Lie. You've been doing it for months, and no one's the wiser.' He looked her in the eye, his brows raised slightly and she wondered briefly if that was a dig at her.
'Well, I'll take that as a compliment.' She sat back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment at the prospect of seeing him again. Could she really lie to him again after all she had said about honesty? She wanted the lies to end, she wanted truth.
'Look, Reddington may not be your father, but he cares about you. You ask him for help, he'll give it.' He told her, she almost winced at the word father. How very far removed he was from that position now. She pushed back her chair not relishing the long drive to Colton.