So, after our three week enforced break, I was SO ready for a new episode! But also worried because Ressler was nowhere to be seen in the promo photos or preview. And my fear was well founded as he was barely in this episode! While it was a great episode and a thrilling ride - and let's hear it for how awesome Mr Kaplan is - I was so bummed out that they benched our Ressler! Seriously?! So after I moped around for a day - yes, it means that much to me - I decided to rewrite some of the episode and let Ressler have his moment in the sun, so to speak! So here is my take on how "Leonard Caul" 'should' have happened!

Donald Ressler had always considered himself a down to earth 'by the book' man. Well, until this past year and a half, at least. A man who dealt in facts even after partnering with a profiler. A profiler who had valiantly tried to open his eyes to the possibility that there was more to law enforcement than her perception of it being all guns and muscle. He dealt in facts. Joe Friday would be proud. But as he sat hunched over reports on his desk in his shared office, an unmistakable feeling of dread washed over him. Dropping his pen and leaning back in his chair, he gulped, looking quickly at Keen's vacant desk. There were no facts to support it. But something was wrong.

Rising quickly, almost stumbling as he gained his feet he moved his chair out the way and quickly made his way to Aram. And before he'd even asked where Liz was, because the IT guy might actually know that, Cooper was coming down the stairs, phone pressed to his ear and speaking anxiously into it. Ressler didn't even need to ask. He knew. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him loud and clear that his boss was talking to his partner.

"Shot?!" exclaimed Cooper into the phone.

Ressler's stomach completely flip-flopped at that as he approached Aram's desk. Liz shot?! No!

"Where? Where are you?" Cooper barked into the phone, making his way briskly (especially for one who had so recently laid down his cane) toward Aram.

"Reddington's shot. Euclid and Drake," Cooper barked out to Aram.

As his bosses words reached him, the feeling in Ressler's stomach dialed down a notch. Not Liz. But Reddington! Samar came over and stood by Aram's desk, joining their small, concerned gathering.

As Aram quickly typed the street names into the map of DC, all knew what was required. The nearest hospital to Reddington's location. Ressler quickly looked away, swallowing hard as his eyes darted. The man he had hunted for years was down. The man he'd tried to kill in Brussels was shot. And it occurred to him that if that son of a bitch died, he wouldn't be happy about that. Not one bit.

His attention returned to Aram speaking with Cooper.

"No, University." And as Aram's fingers flew over the keys attempting to reach the nearest hospital ER, Ressler looked at his boss just as Liz's phone went dead and Aram lost the trace. He needed to be out there.

"Sir, I should be out there with Keen and Reddington."

His boss barely looked at him as he dialed another number on his phone. "Get me Tom Connolly." Holding his hand over the phone as he waited for the person on the other end, his eyes darted to his lead agent.

"Agent Ressler, until we know what the hell is going on out there you're staying right here."

He didn't offer a 'yes, sir' in return. Cooper's tone didn't suggest a reply. And walking back to his office while futilely trying to raise Liz on his phone, he felt utterly useless being safe in the war room while the real war had just broken loose outside. And it took every ounce of control he could muster not to punch the crap out of the door as he entered their shared office as his worried eyes fell on his partner's empty chair. Damn it all to hell!

###

After 30 more minutes, his mood hadn't exactly improved. He'd just got more used to working with the feeling gnawing in his mid-section. Back out at Aram's desk, their usual center of operations, Liz was on the phone again. Exhaling heavily at the sound of her voice, trying not to let Samar hear beside him, he leaned forward on the desk as Liz spoke.

"Reddington's in surgery," she told them, as Cooper replied and all eyes darted to his phone to where Liz's voice was on speaker.

"Surgery? Where? We've checked every ER in the city," Cooper asked her.

Ressler listened as Liz informed them they were in a warehouse with a mobile crash team. And inwardly, he wasn't surprised. Good ole' Reddington. Even when the man was apparently shot to pieces his minions flocked to his every need.

As he headed to call the Washington Field Office to dispatch a unit to Liz's location, Ressler somehow didn't feel that this was all going to be neatly wrapped up in a bow in fifteen minutes as Cooper had implied. This was Reddington. And though the man had an elaborate contingency plan in place to save his own butt, the person or group who had shot him for the fulcrum was still out there.

Returning to the war room after calling in the warehouse location to the response team, he again approached his boss, striding past Samar as Aram looked up nervously over his laptop.

"Response team are on their way," Ressler informed Cooper. Looking momentarily away, he licked his bottom lip and faced his boss again. "Request permission to join them at the location, sir."

Cooper turned to face him. "No need. By the time you got out there Reddington would be on his way to a hospital and both Keen and Reddington would be safe. I need you and Navabi to track down those hospital admission records for Caul and see if we can find the man."

And without waiting for an answer Cooper turned back to Aram and leaned forward to speak to him, leaving Ressler gritting his teeth and biting back a response. I'm a field agent, damn it. He caught Samar's eyes momentarily, noting the understanding nod she gave him. She was well aware that he needed to be out in the field with his partner. And as he turned away to make some phone calls, stalking back to his office in frustration, he resisted the urge to try and text Liz. For whatever reason, she didn't have her regular phone and right now he had no way of contacting her.

So if Liz needed them to find Leonard Caul, that's what he'd do. It didn't mean he was happy at being benched though. Again.

###

Cooper's fifteen minutes and 'we'll be home' estimate had flown out the window at the news of the empty warehouse, two dead fake agents and a dead doctor, just as Resser had known it would. Refraining from an 'I told you so' to his irritated boss, he leaned on Aram's desk yet again as more bad news came down the wire. Listening to Liz on speaker phone, he looked at Cooper pointedly. Cooper knew what he was silently asking – demanding – and still ignored his lead agents' request.

As Liz hung up again, Cooper faced Ressler evenly. "Where are we on Leonard Caul?" he asked, deflecting Ressler's attention back to the task Keen had set them on.

Sighing, he filled in Cooper on the latest they'd discovered. And he'd almost resigned himself to the fact that he was stuck riding it out in safety at his desk while Liz dealt with the hostiles out there. Almost. As he and Samar reported to Cooper each time more information surfaced on Caul, he put up the best face he could under the circumstances.

Back at his desk, he divided his time between looking at Liz's empty desk and chair, and staring at his computer screen aimlessly, his mind elsewhere. As Cooper came up behind him, he acknowledged his bosses' request to call Hopkin's HRT team to Liz's new location.

"Copy that," he answered, reaching for the phone.

And as he was talking with Hopkins and hurriedly giving him the details on the situation at the warehouse, his phone lit up on his desk. Hanging up quickly from Hopkins he picked it up. He didn't recognize the number, but was certain it had to be Liz on a burner phone.

Holding it to his ear he answered, "Ressler."

"Agent Ressler, I'm sure you're well aware of the situation that is unfolding as we speak. Your presence would be…beneficial."

It wasn't Liz. But he knew the voice. Mr Kaplan!

The woman continued, speaking to him quickly in her precise, clipped manner. "Our position is compromised. Raymond is compromised. I had to leave him. His location is 3295 Thompson."

Heart hammering in his chest as he rose to his feet, he replied, "On my way."

In a complete turn around from her point form instructions to him, she replied more softly, "Be careful, dearie. There are hostiles surrounding the warehouse."

Opening his mouth to reply, the phone went dead in his ear as the woman hung up. For one brief moment more he held his eyes on Liz's empty desk before he sprang into action. Dropping his phone into his suit pocket he pulled his FBI jacket off his chair and grabbed his car keys from his desk drawer. Leaving his office and entering the war room, he strode purposefully toward Cooper and was about to speak when he saw his boss was occupied on the phone.

He didn't waste time. Simply turned and as he passed Aram and Samar, he held up his car keys in explanation. "I have to go."

Aram looked up, mouth half open. "Um…"

Beside him, Samar stood with folded arms and nodded to Ressler, smiling knowingly. "Go get 'em," she offered as he walked by them concentrating on the task at hand. Mr Kaplan's words echoed in his mind. 'Your presence would be beneficial.' To who? Liz or Reddington? No matter. Reddington's team needed him elsewhere and the war room would survive just fine without him.

He was at the elevator when Cooper called out. "Agent Ressler!"

Turning to his boss as the elevator door began to close he held his head high and met his bosses' steely gaze. Not this time, sir. No. I'm out of here.

His last glimpse was of Cooper turning to a nervous Aram and then he was on his own in the elevator as it headed to the surface. On reaching it, he passed the guards outside and sprinted to his vehicle, finally feeling like he was doing something constructive. Something… beneficial.

###

After what seemed forever but was in fact only 14 minutes, he arrived at the warehouse. Screeching to a halt outside the building, he ran from the vehicle into the warehouse, weapon at the ready. As he entered the building he was met with a bloodbath. It was the Kenyon family massacre all over again, though on a smaller scale. The hostiles Mr Kaplan had informed him of had wreaked havoc in the time since she'd left Reddington and he had arrived on scene. Dead men dressed in black fatigues lay on the floor as he made his way through them, mindful not to slip in puddles of still warm blood. But as sobering as the sight was, he found some solace in the fact there were no pregnant women among the dead. Stopping a moment, he met the eyes of one of Reddington's men sitting on the floor, cradling a fallen comrade not long for this world.

"Reddington?" he asked the man on the floor, who simply cocked a thumb indicating around the corner.

Stepping over bodies, weapon drawn he rounded the corner and held his gun on the first standing person he'd seen in the building. Tom Keen.

Tom Keen pulled up short and lowered his weapon on seeing Ressler before him. "Wondered when you'd show up."

As Ressler half lowered his weapon, he wasn't struck by the words, but the tone. There was no challenge in the words. No false bravado or male posturing. He did briefly wonder which side Tom Keen had been on in this fight though. But his doubts were immediately allayed at Tom's tired words. "Liz wasn't here. She's safe. Reddington is, was, through there. I was on my way to check on him."

"Stay here. I'll go check Reddington," Ressler told him, hoisting his weapon again as he made his way further into the warehouse. In the distance plastic drapes surrounded a makeshift surgical unit. His mind was suddenly back in the basement of an abandoned building, seeing small children in hospital beds and Dr James Covington in just such a unit. Shaking off that memory, he stepped forward, bemused for a moment at the memories this warehouse was invoking. He needed to find Reddington. But on entering the surgery unit, his heart dropped. The bed was empty.

A faint cough caught his attention from another hallway leading away from the unit and as he turned to face the sound, he saw Reddington. He was down and swaying precariously as he sat on the floor. And whatever feelings of hatred or distrust Ressler had harbored during his long hunt for the criminal fled completely as he holstered his weapon and ran to Red's side to help him.

"…Donald…" Red gasped, "…what are you…doing here…"

"Damn it, Red, be quiet," he told him, dropping quickly to his knees behind the criminal as Red began to topple. He fell straight back into Ressler, no longer able to sit up by himself.

"I got you…" he told Red, gingerly opening Red's jacket to reveal the blood soaked surgical dressing on his chest. Hissing through his teeth, he rapidly deduced what had happened. Moving out of necessity so soon after surgery had ruptured the stitches and reopened the incision. Red's bloody hand was clutching a gun, and gently reaching down, Ressler took it from him and lay it on the ground beside them.

"Fight's over Red, you've done your part now." And once the gun was secure, he then placed his hand on the dressing on Red's chest in order to slow the blood loss. Reddington gasped, but didn't stop him.

Running footsteps filled the air behind him and as both men turned, Dembe burst into the hallway, gun still drawn.

"Raymond!"

"I'm fine…just fine…" he reassured Dembe, leaning heavily against Ressler.

Ressler spoke to the black man as he kneeled down in front of them. "He's lost a lot of blood. He needs a doctor now!"

Red chuckled at that. "Oh, Donald... you worry too much."

Dembe reached in to look at Red's chest. "The stitches must have come loose. There is a nurse still on the premises. I will find her!" And with that he rose to his feet fluidly and ran back the way he'd come, leaving Ressler alone with Reddington again.

"Donald…where is Lizzie…?"

Kneeling on the ground, supporting the weight of Reddington as he leaned against his chest, he couldn't lie to the man. "I don't know where she is. But Tom Keen said she was safe." Red turned and met his eyes. Ressler was immediately struck by how tired and unfocused they looked. And as Reddington looked at him, he didn't need to say a word. Both men's thoughts were identical. So we're trusting the word of Tom Keen now.

Adjusting his hand on Red's chest dressing, they heard footsteps approaching again. Dembe and a woman dressed in scrubs appeared. She was terrified at what she'd just seen in the massacre, yet at the sight of her patient needing help she was suddenly all business.

"We need to get him up on that table back in the surgical unit. Carefully," she told them, making her way back to get the bed ready.

With Ressler at his head and Dembe at his feet, they hoisted Red between them as carefully as they could, well aware of how much blood was dripping from his chest. Safely transporting him to the unit they lay him on the bed, and once in place the nurse swung into action with her trained, gloved hands.

Standing back, Dembe and Ressler watched as she replaced the cannula and got Red back on oxygen before she set about hooking him back up to the monitors.

"Oh my god…" the nurse whispered, looking on the monitor at Red's blood pressure and heart rate. "He needs blood now. Hand me one of the units in that case!"

Dembe was closest and turned toward the case but they all saw it at the same time. The case had been riddled with bullets, reducing the units of blood inside it to empty plastic bags splattered with their life saving contents.

At the sight of the nurses' wide eyes, Mr Kaplan's words came back into Ressler's mind. 'Your presence would be…beneficial.' He gave a half smile at the memory then shrugged off his FBI jacket. "It's fine. You have a blood supply right here," he told her as he removed his suit jacket and began to roll up his left shirt sleeve.

"Donald…no…"

"What?" said the nurse, a little slower to catch up as Ressler came to stand beside her patient.

Ressler leaned forward to Red, "Time I returned the favor, don't you think?"

Red was still shaking his head weakly as Resser looked back up at the nurse. "I take it you know how to do a field transfusion?"

Dembe spoke up at the foot of the bed, explaining further to the nurse. "We don't have time to collect Agent Ressler's blood to give to Raymond – even if we had any bags that were still intact."

Seeing the sense in what they were proposing, the nurse wasted no time and gathered the tubing to perform the transfusion. "Fine. I assume you two already know you're compatible donors. But you need to sit down sir, you can't stand there and give blood."

From nowhere, Dembe produced a chair and as Ressler sat down facing Reddington the nurse took hold of Ressler's arm and began to place the IV. Wincing a little as the needle entered his vein, he made himself more comfortable in the chair and got ready for the blood to begin flowing out of him.

As the nurse set up Red's IV and started the transfusion, Red spoke up weakly as his half closed eyes met Ressler's. "Think how much LESS wittier you'll feel now…"

Dembe chuckled, apparently having previously heard what that was in reference to. The nurse simply shook her head as she set about restitching her patients' chest wound now.

And all Ressler did was smile broadly and pat Red's shoulder, and wonder for the five hundredth time at how much his relationship with Raymond Reddington had changed.

###

Twenty five minutes later Ressler wasn't smiling. Feeling decidedly nauseous and slightly dizzy at the blood loss, the nurse finally stopped the transfusion after ignoring his demands that he was fine and could still give more.

"You're not fine, but you will feel better in a few hours. You'd benefit from a unit of blood yourself to get your BP back up," she admonished him, but then looked at him appreciatively as her features softened. "But thanks to your stubbornness Reddington is doing much better and is now stable enough to be transported."

"Would that be 'stubborn male bullshit type stubbornness'?" Ressler asked her, remembering his partner. And just as he was again wondering where the hell she was, she spoke up from the other side of the room.

"That's exactly what it is," she told him, taking in the scene in an instant and coming to stand by him as he still sat beside Reddington. But her actions belied her words as her hand found his shoulder and lingered there as she tilted her head to look at him.

"You okay?" They both asked it in unison of their partner, and beside them Red chuckled and shook his head.

For a moment he held Liz's eyes as they both nodded, and satisfied that she was okay, he returned his attention to Red. "I'm not as witty anymore, but I'm fine."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," smiled Red tiredly. His hand reached up and rested on Ressler's arm. "Give us a moment, would you please, Donald."

And once again, he was the third wheel between Red and Liz. It was familiar territory but he was actually okay with it. "Sure," he said, swaying slightly as he climbed to his feet.

"Whoa… yeah, I'm fine," he said, getting his balance as Liz grabbed his arm and he managed to stop himself falling flat on his face all over Reddington.

The nurse gave him a look that she had apparently stolen right out of Liz's collection. "Let's get some sugar into you and then you need to get a unit of blood. There are ambulances arriving outside."

"I'm-"

"Don't tell me you're fine." This time it was Liz and the nurse who spoke in unison. They smiled at each other in mutual agreement as Ressler sighed.

Outvoted and knowing it was useless to argue against TWO women, Ressler slowly walked away with Dembe and the nurse. Before he left the surgical area though, he turned back to look briefly at Liz and Red. He needed to talk to Liz but it was going to have to wait until Red had spoken with her.

"Lizzy," he heard Reddington say, obviously with something he needed to tell Liz. But Liz shut him down, and as Ressler heard her briskly tell Red that they'd cleared a wing a Sibley Memorial hospital, he saw the flash of sadness in Reddington's features.

And in that moment, despite hunting him for years and wanting him dead, despite having blamed him for the breakup with Audrey and everything bad that had happened in those five years, Ressler felt nothing but sorrow for the injured criminal.

###

In another flash of memory, in a day that was seemingly filled with them, he was sitting on the tailgate of the ambulance with his FBI jacket slung around his shoulders when Liz came outside. Spying him, she came and sat down beside him on his left side and both of them looked at each other, a soft smile on their lips. She nudged him, in silent acknowledgement that she well remembered the last time they'd done this.

"Are they taking you in?" she asked, studying his pale features. Paler than normal, even for him.

He shook his head. "Well, apparently I wasn't very good at convincing them I was fine, because they attached me to this unit," he told her, indicating something behind him. "But no, I don't need to go in. Just have to sit here a bit longer."

For the first time, she noticed the IV in his right hand hooked up to a unit of blood hanging inside the ambulance. "Stubborn…so stubborn," she told him, but stopped as Red was wheeled out on his gurney.

Her eyes dropped from Reddington in a manner Ressler had seen too many times before. Watching the medics load Red into the waiting ambulance, he spoke, never taking his eyes off Red.

"I assume your little chat with Red didn't go so well."

"Understatement," she replied, leaning easily into his left arm. "I don't know what to do anymore, Ress. One minute I'm yelling at him, the next minute he's shot and I'm doing everything I can to save his life, and then he's back to telling me half-truths and I can't stand to be in the same room as him."

Ressler drew his eyes off the ambulance as the medics closed the doors, refocusing on Liz beside him. "The man is an enigma."

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she replied, "Just when I think I am getting somewhere I realize that I don't know nearly enough about him. But I know someone who can tell me more."

Ressler looked at her, seeing the resolve behind her wet eyes and didn't say a word. As he sat there receiving blood with Liz leaning on his left arm, the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach returned at her words.

Because he knew exactly who she would go to in order to find out more about Raymond Reddington.