There was a pungent smell in the air. Smoke and burned flesh. Images from a long time ago appeared in front of his closed lids. A small child's screams, mingled with those of a woman. His body shivered violently.

"Red!"

He knew that voice but his mind was still trapped in another world, a different time.

"Open your eyes, you damn bastard!"

It did the trick apparently. Her voice was so very loud, but it sounded weak all the same. She wasn't yelling he realized, but why was she so loud?

He opened his eyes and a very adult Lizzie hovered over him. One of her hands clutched at his cheek. She looked desperate and scared. But the smell was still there and it was so hard to find the origin of it. It became stronger.

"We need to get out, now!"

She pushed him, weak and with no success. She pulled at him but he wouldn't move. Well, he couldn't it seemed. Oh so slowly did he move his eyes down to his lap.

His hand looked strange, completely wrenched and with that realization came the pain. For a moment he couldn't breathe and his eyes fluttered. He tried to concentrate. Then his eyes fell on his legs. He tried to move them but couldn't, so he concluded that they somehow got stuck under the driver's seat. Even though, it didn't make much sense.

There was so much blood, but he never felt any cruel pain. Not like he did when he´d seen his hand. A ticklish feeling, numbness, but no pain. His head was so dizzy that all he could do was to look back up to Lizzie.

Her hand was still at his sleeve but the last of her strength was gone too. For a moment he feared that she was unconscious but her eyes opened again.

"We need to go, Red."

Her voice got quieter with each word. His eyes moved down the length of her arm and a sickened feeling crawled up his throat.
He´d found the origin of the smell. But it wasn't him, it was her. Her arm. Burned so badly.
The door at Lizzie´s side flew open and Dembe appeared. Blood all over his face. The smell was strong now. It seemed that now that he knew where it came from it got worse.

"Take her Dembe. Save her."

His voice sounded strange, as if he was choking.

"No, we need to free you."

She pulled at him again, weakly, so he took hold of her hand with the last strength he could spare. "Go." He knew the strained smile didn't convince her at all. Dembe pulled her out and he could see how her eyes finally closed.

"I will be back," Dembe assured him.

In the distance he heard squealing tires and sirens. He tried to move his legs again, free himself somehow.
He didn't want to die. To his utter surprise it felt unfair to die now. To leave Lizzie behind like that. There were all those things he wanted her to know, to see… to understand.
Sam… He had promised him to look after her. Protect her. Love her. And now he was stuck in this ridiculously expensive car. And he couldn't even help her. He couldn't protect her. He was helpless.
His eyes closed again and the only thing left was that nasty smell.
When Red opened his eyes again he stared straight into Dembe´s very clean face. The younger man looked concerned and somehow disturbed.
With an effort Red moved his head and saw a fluffy couch at his side.
He was at the writer's house. The accident was long ago. He had tried to reach out to Dembe… and Lizzie.
And of course there she was at the entrance, staring at him with that pitiful look.
In an instant all those sensations came to him.
There was something sticky at his lips and his head drummed painfully. And even though he had sobered up some, he still felt dizzy and drunk.
In a poor attempt to escape the situation, Red tried to get up but he failed miserably. Ah, he forgot, he couldn't move his legs.
He fell back then and it was only for Dembe´s quick reflexes that his head didn't crash on the floor again.
"Come on, my friend," Dembe muttered and sat the other man up. Red leaned against the soft couch. When he opened his eyes again they burned from the bright light in the room. Someone had turned the light switch. He could barely see anything.
There had been a time where he would have found something very smart to say. Back when things had been normal and easier.
Now, he kept his mouth firmly shut. His head was still somewhere between the accident and his last drink of scotch. His thoughts were a mess. He was, really.

"Can you move him?" he heard Lizzie quietly ask. "We need to clean him up."

Suddenly she was right beside Dembe and it pained him when she couldn't even look in his eyes. And seriously why would she even bother?
He literally drowned in his thoughts, when Dembe pulled and lifted him up, one arm around his shoulders, one under his legs.

We need to clean him up

Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, he couldn't quite get. For the past weeks he hadn't bothered to think about cleaning up. There was no need for it. Now he almost felt ashamed for being in such a filthy shape. Dembe had at some point resigned from trying to wash him. Or touch him at all. Even though Red felt a deep love for the younger man and appreciated everything he had done for him… washing him was in no way something he would let anyone do. Well…

He was jolted from his thoughts when Dembe set him down on the closed toilet lit and he had trouble keeping his balance.

Liz stood at the entrance and when Red thought it couldn't get more awkward he realized that his pants were wet around his groin and he sure had peed himself.

He froze.

She stared blankly at Dembe, her weapon ready to be fired and ducked behind a couch.

"What do you mean you need to leave?" she panted and anger rose in her.

"If you want our work to go on I need to meet contacts and clients"

When another shot rang out Liz shook her head and concentrated back on the task at hand. She had learned several things that night about Dembe: He could indeed be more frustrating than Red, because while the older man liked to irritate the hell out of her with strange stories and metaphors, Dembe had an unbelievable bad timing for talking. And on that note he was awkwardly straight forward.

When Ressler declared their situation to be clean Dembe rose from their cover and as the gentleman he was, helped Liz to get up too. With three large steps Ressler was right in front of her while Dembe moved aside, checking for his phone.

"Next time wait for backup, Liz. We nearly lost you guys" Ressler argued and shook his head.

"Well, next time you better stop asking stupid questions and actually trust me when I tell you to get moving!"

Her partner was about to answer when Dembe pulled at her arm, making her move with him.

"We need to go, now." His tone was cold, emotionless and he scared her. Something was wrong and there was only one possibility that would make Dembe look so pale and…angry?

"You just can't leave! We need to debrief at the post-" She was already out of the building and literally thrown into the car.

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice shook but she couldn't care less. Something was wrong with Red or she would still argue with Ressler.

"Check your phone."

She pulled the device from her jacket and unlocked the screen. There were several missed calls all from one number. Nick´s Pizza.

"I don't -"

"He is either in danger or dead. I already informed Mr. Kaplan. But she will need some time to get to the house."

And then he went silent. He mind whirled over possible scenarios. He could be dead

Liz stared down on the phone in her hand. In all the time since the accident he had never called her. Not once. She suddenly understood Dembe´s worry. She obviously wasn't the only person Red had refused to call in the past months.

The final long minutes of their drive was a blur. Suddenly the car came to a halt and Dembe literally ran out of the car. She followed but he stopped her at the door.

"You will wait here." She appreciated that he wanted to prevent her from whatever horrible scene might wait for them but followed him nevertheless into the house and the living area.

She stopped dead in her tracks at the entrance.

Dembe ran forward and knelt down, his hand frantically reaching for Red´s throat. He visibly calmed when the tips of his fingers obviously found a beating pulse.

Liz let out a breath she didn't realize she´d been holding. A teary eyes stung.

He looked so pale and thin and just utterly broken.

She saw his head moving, an irritated look on his face. Dembe tried to sit him up but when Red´s eyes found her he numbly fell back.

"Come on, my friend" Dembe whispered and her heart just broke over and over again.

He helped Red to sit against the soft couch and she had trouble to contain her reaction to what she saw.

He had clearly been vomiting, his beard smeared with evidence and when her eyes followed Dembe´s she realized that he had somehow peed himself.

Her mind didn't register when her body moved.

"Can you move him? We need to clean him up." It took all her control to stop her voice from shaking. Red´s silent drooling nearly made it impossible. There was Raymond Reddington, sitting in his own pee, puke all over him, totally zoned out and unable to do anything. In the corner of her eyes she was him look at her, but he seemed so far away.

Dembe nodded and carefully lifted Red into his arms, as if the older man was only a small boy. And he did look like one.

She followed them to the second floor´s bathroom where Dembe sat Red down on the closed toilet.

He tried to keep his balance, when his head drifted a bit forward and his eyes fell on his hips.

She knew it was the moment he had realized in what awful condition he really was.

She had never seen Raymond Reddington blush ashamed. He did then.

"Do you still need my help?" Dembe looked at her for long moments until he shook his head.

"I got this."

When the door closed behind her Liz walked forward and turned again, staring at the door.

She didn't felt pity for him, but compassion for the situation he was in. A man like Red, always so in control suddenly not even able to control his own body.

No, it wasn't pity that made the tears roll down her cheeks. It was something so different that she nearly choke on the realization.

Liz´s flinched when the front door suddenly opened and closed and small and quick steps flew up the stairs. She didn't even considered to draw her gun when Mr. Kaplan was already in front of her watching her intently.

"Oh dear."

It took them nearly an hour before Mr. Kaplan came out of the bathroom. She didn't looked pleased but she nodded approvingly.

"He is fine, at least there aren't any fractures except for his pride and he will most likely have the hell of a hangover." Liz was at a loss for words, so she only nodded. "He needs sleep to sober up and it wouldn't hurt to check for a concussion." Mr. Kaplan moved to the staircase but stopped again and turned.

"I´ll be back tomorrow and I expect you to be here, sweetie" she explained in a dangerous low voice and walked down the stairs.

"Are you threatening me?" Liz asked irritated and followed her quickly.

"Listen, I do what I have to do and you better do that too."

And then she disappeared into the night, like she always does.

What was it with these people and talking in puzzles?

Liz could hear movement from above her but hesitated to go upstairs again. Would Red want her to leave? Was he relieved that she wasn't around anymore?

But didn't Kaplan just told her to whatever the hell she had to?

So Liz moved upstairs to the only open door and nearly crashed into Dembe.

"He will most likely fall asleep soon" he stated simply without any further explanation. Liz nodded and moved aside so the man could walk out.

Red laid in bed, covers up to his chin and eyes open. There was a soft light at the bed´s side and it allowed her to see his face when she moved closer.

His eyes, when they found her, were red and raw. He looked still pale but clean even though it was still strange that his face wasn't shaved and his hair not trimmed short.

"Go, Lizzie." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"No" Liz stubbornly replied and took a chair from the end of the bed to sit next to his side. "I am done with you pushing me away."

He stared at her and she actually appreciated the fact the he couldn't keep the frown and frustration from his face.

"I don't want you here."
"You are lying, Red."

He averted his eyes then and she swore that the nerve under his eye was twitching.

Slowly Liz crept forward on her chair and slipped her hand under the covers where she assumed his hand must be.

It wasn't all too surprising when her fingers found his hand in a tight fist. But it did made him flinch.

"I am not going to leave you behind, Red." The tears were coming back when his eyes closed. "You deserve the best in life."

His eyes stayed close for the rest of the night and Liz wasn't even sure if he had heard her when his mouth suddenly opened.

"I´m sorry Lizzie" he whispered into the room.

It changed everything.