17 years old

"Sam! How is everything on the home front? Listen, I'm on my way to a meeting, I can't talk—"

"Get your ass here now, Red." Sam's gruff voice choked out over the phone's receiver. Red sat up in his seat in the back of the SUV.

"It's Lizzie, Red." Red waited for him to say something other than the obvious. "She's in the hospital. It's not lookin' too great."

The tic in Red's left cheek began going off like mad as he clenched his jaw, hanging up the phone without so much as a "goodbye."

"Dembe, take us back to the airport."

"But Raymond, we can't miss this—"

"Lizzie is in the hospital."

The sound of the tires squealing as Dembe made an illegal U-turn rent through the night air.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sam was waiting for them on the curb outside of the Emergency entrance, his hands tucked into his jeans and his shoulders hunched against the cold.

"Tell me everything, Sam." Red asked as he and Dembe walked up.

"You ain't gonna like it, Red." Sam warned.

"What I would like is for you to quit stalling." It felt as though the tic in his left cheek had been going crazy ever since he'd gotten the call from Sam.

"Ah hell." Sam mumbled. "She met this kid – Damon, at that MMA club she joined. He's 19, maybe 20. Got an apartment in town, works at the Diner."

"The point, Sam." Red was getting frustrated though at least they had walked into the hospital and Sam was leading them to what he assumed was Lizzie's room.

"I never liked him. Useless little townie punk." Sam said, seeming to ignore him.

"Sam!" Red shouted brusquely, gaining the attention of some of the nurses.

"He beat the shit out of her, Red. From what the neighbors told police, it looked like she held her own — they saw him leaving his apartment building pretty bloodied up. But he is twice her size." Sam took a deep breath just as they reached the door to her room. As Red reached out to open the door, Sam put a hand on his forearm to stop him.

"He threw her down the stairs as she tried to get away, Red. She's in a coma. The little shit ran off." Sam said this as if spouting off a list of key facts. He looked down just in time to see Red's fists clench.

"Dembe."

"I will find him, Raymond." As Dembe rushed off, Red took a deep breath and opened the door, choking on a sob as he saw the state of his little girl.

"Oh Lizzie…" That boy didn't realize, but he was about to disappear.

Walking over to her bedside, Red sat and took her hand delicately in his, careful of the IV. Red knew the statistics. He knew the next few hours were crucial. It was increasingly less likely she'd wake up the longer she stayed asleep.

"You need to wake up, Sweetheart." He whispered, leaning forward to kiss the knuckles of the hand he held before looking over at Sam.

"Why the hell was I not informed of this new boyfriend, Sam?"

"I only found out about it a couple weeks ago, Red. She made it sound like they hadn't been dating long. I didn't think it was anything serious."

"I'd call this pretty fucking serious, Sam." Red growled. "You're supposed to protect her!" His voice rose with his ire. Sam looked away, wincing in shame and guilt. Red couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

/\/\/\/\/\

Two hours later, Red got a call from Dembe.

"I found him, Raymond."

"Good. Text me the address and call Mr. Kaplan."

Red stood, picking up his fedora from where he'd placed it on the side of the bed, next to Lizzie's thigh.

"Red, don't do anything Lizzie wouldn't want."

With one last glance at Lizzie's battered face, Red walked out of the hospital room.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was 4am. Sam lay in the corner, in one of those bulky hospital chairs that folds out into a "bed." Dembe was in another chair beside Lizzie's bed, staring at her with that intense look he gets that means a multitude of things. Red sat on the other side of Lizzie's bedside, dozing as he held her hand. They weren't supposed to all be in there. In fact, no one was supposed to be in there, it was well past visiting hours. But money did wonderful things. Red's lids were growing heavier and heavier when he felt a twitch. Sitting up from his slouched position, he was immediately alert. Noticing the change in Red, Dembe also perked up.

"Lizzie, Sweetheart? Are you awake? Can you squeeze my hand for me?" Red and Dembe held their breath as they waited. When he felt the lightest pressure from her fingers, he grinned.

"That's it, Sweetheart! Can you open your eyes for me? C'mon, let me see those beautiful blues!" Red stood beside her, squeezing her hand in encouragement as he placed the other atop her head, petting her hair. He glanced behind him as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye to see Sam standing behind him, his hand resting on her calf.

"You can do it, Butterball." Sam's gruff voice was pure gravel with sleep.

"Maybe" She took a breath. "I don't want" Lizzie licked her lips slowly. "To see your ugly mugs."

All three men laughed, more from relief than her attempt at a joke. She was going to be alright.

/\/\/\/\/\

It had been a week since the incident and she'd finally been allowed home yesterday— with strict rules to stay in bed for at least another week. Her broken leg didn't make moving easy anyway but she was getting restless. At the moment, she was playing cards with her dad, a pile of cards laying on the tray over her lap.

"Go fish." They'd played every other card game already. They were desperate.

Red shook his head, pursing his lips at the prospect of losing as he took another card from the deck. He was Raymond Reddington for Christ's sake yet he was being defeated by his daughter in a game meant for 5 years old. His enemies would never let him live this down. Lizzie probably wasn't going to let him live this down.

"So tell me Lizzie. You're turning 18 soon. Have you decided where you want to go for college? What you want to study?"

Lizzie swallowed, asking him if had any sevens. He didn't.

"Lizzie, did you hear me?"

"Uh yea. Yea, I've applied to a few places. Columbia, Duke, U Penn." Lizzie took a card from the pile.

"Trying to get out of the Mid West, are we?" Red asked with a brow raised, his lips quirking in amusement.

"Well, I think I've seen enough cows and dirt roads for a lifetime." She joked and he chuckled lightly.

"And what do you want to study?"

Lizzie reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. After taking a sip she licked her lips nervously. "Forensic Psychology."

Red stared, hoping he was successful at hiding his horror. From the way looked down and away to avoid his gaze, he guessed he wasn't.

"I mean, you told me to run in the opposite direction when I was 14. To not be anything like you. I'm just doing what you told me to do." She mumbled, her cheeks flaming.

/\/\/\/\/\

"I'm sorry Mr. Scott. I don't know what to tell ya. The boy's just disappeared. No trace of him. I'm sorry."

Lizzie and Red were both in her room — Lizzie in her bed and Red in a chair beside her—as they listened to Sam and the Sheriff talk downstairs. Lizzie's eyes searched Red's face as he resolutely avoided her gaze. When they heard the sound of the front door closing, Lizzie whispered with growing horror.

"Dad, look at me." Red refused, looking instead, out the window as the sun shone.

"Dad."

Red sighed, swinging his head towards her, his face an impenetrable mask.

"What have you done?"

"He hurt you." His voice was low as he spoke, as if this explained everything. "You could have died, Elizabeth.

"What have you done?" She repeated, her voice hoarse as her stomach roiled.

"I won't apologize."

Lizzie leaned over the side of her bed and vomited.