He wakes slowly and then all at once, instantly missing the, now, usual heat of Lizzie draped over him. His eyes snap open as he reaches across the bed, only finding cold sheets. The room is still dark, dawn having not yet broken. Her silhouette cannot be seen in the darkness and Red can't feel the presence of another.
Feeling unsettled, he glances around the room, his instincts honed to change. Lizzie is not here with him and she is not in the ensuite either. He aggressively shoves the blankets away and slips silently out of bed, grabbing the SIG he had hidden in his bedside drawer and pulling on some trousers.
She had been quiet after their discussion about the Cabal, only speaking when she was spoken to. Her eyes had that distant look about them, as if she was mulling over her thoughts with great concentration. He had let her be; knowing that she would need time to process the events of China, Ressler's death and their next movements. She had gone to bed early, kissing Red on the cheek as she passed him.
The house is silent as he moves out to the living room, checking the kitchen. She is nowhere to be seen, but the front-door is wide open. Red feels panic claw its way up his throat as he steps outside.
It is pitch-black; the only light is the silver glow of the moon. The breeze is icy as it whispers over the exposed flesh of his torso, but the adrenaline that is roaring through his veins has burned any feeling or discomfort away. His eyes strain against the darkness, but eventually movement to his right grabs his attention.
She's standing amongst the trees and from where he is standing, gun still drawn, on the top step of the house, he can see that she is staring at him. When she begins to walk towards him, she doesn't look human. Her skin is painted silver, her movements are so fluid. As she advances he can see that she is softly smiling at him and when she finally reaches him she runs her hand down his forearm and takes his weapon.
"I'd hoped you wouldn't notice," she says, humour in her voice, "I tried to slip out as quietly as possible."
The anxiety that had coiled in his chest slowly ebbs away, unravels, as he looks at her. The copious scenarios that had roared in his mind screeching to a halt with the touch of her hand on his wrist.
"Why are you out here?" He asks, voice still edged with sleep. She smiles at him again, trails her fingers over his chest as she rolls the words around her tongue.
"I was thinking."
"And that couldn't be done in the bedroom?" is his sardonic reply, eyebrow raised. Despite his tone, his hands drift to her hips, tugs her closer.
"Pointlessly, as I see, I didn't want to disturb you."
He laughs leaning in to kiss her before grasping her hand and pulling her back inside. She follows without protest, nudging the door closed with her foot as she passes it. He leads her to the kitchen, dropping her hand as he begins to make them both a coffee.
Lizzie sits on the stool by the kitchen bench and watches him, laughing softly as Dembe snores loudly from his own room. Red rolls his eyes in reply, having become accustomed to the lion he kept as a bodyguard.
As the coffee brews they sit in silence, Lizzie absently picking at the lint on Red's trousers. He watches her steady concentration, knowing that she is mulling over the questions that he is most likely going to ask.
Red moves away, grabbing two mugs and pouring them their drinks before wandering back to the bedroom. He sits down on top of the covers, still partially dressed. Lizzie lays beside him, propped up on her pillows with her coffee in hand, her robe gaping open.
"What are you thinking about?" questions Red, reaching over and resting his hand on her upper thigh, briefly giving her leg a squeeze. She takes a sip of her coffee, shifting so she is closer to him, before leaning over and placing her coffee on the bedside table.
When she looks back at him her eyes are grave; steel and determination burn in their blue depths. Her hand drifts up to his face, her thumb runs along his bottom lip.
"You said, yesterday, that the process of my exoneration was slowing down the dismantlement of the Cabal," she says and when he goes to protest she presses her thumb against his lips. It effectively silences him.
"Well, I've been thinking, Red... that... why should we bother?"
He knows that he is frowning at her, that he possibly looks disappointed. All he has ever wanted for her is a normal life, where she could settle down and have a family. This dream for her was impossible if she was not exonerated.
"So that you can return to DC, return to your life. So that you can be happy, Lizzie," he replies, sighing deeply when she begins to shake her head.
"When we were in Bali, you said that you would never leave me, is that still true?"
He simply looks at her, she already knows the answer to that, he can tell by the way she is smiling at him. They both look to the door as they hear the shower start from the bathroom further into the house. Dembe has risen for the day.
"I'm never going to leave you, Red," she whispers, "I'm not free, unless I'm with you. So let's forget about absolving my crimes and focus on taking the Cabal down. We can do that together, Red, and then we can just disappear. I know you can make that happen."
I offer that particular package to clients.
"Are you sure that this is what you want, sweetheart?" Red asks and his voice is hoarse, serious, "Are you willing to leave everything behind?"
Her answering smile is all the confirmation Red needs; so bright and trusting. It aches to look at her, so he bundles her into his arms, pressing kisses to her soft hair. His chest is rumbling with quiet laughter.
"Come then," he whispers, tugging her up from the bed and onto her feet, "shall we get started?"
When they wander out of their bedroom after getting fully dressed Dembe is puttering around the kitchen, making more coffee and breakfast. He looks up at them and smiles at Lizzie before meeting Raymond's eyes. His expression drops to something more serious and his voice is grave when he speaks.
"I take it the plan has changed?"
Red grins back at him and Lizzie swivels on her heels to meet his gaze. Her brows are furrowed as he starts to laugh again.
"In the wise words of Gandalf the Grey," Red begins, "It's time to cut the head of the snake. Call in all known associates and contacts, Dembe. We assault the Cabal in a week."
The next few hours are a blur of phone calls and coffee and watching Lizzie doze on the sofa. He has put The Hobbit on, knowing she has a fondness for fantasy. Dembe sits by him, laptop on the table and fingers tapping away furiously, sending emails to those they were not able to contact by phone.
Red made contact with Leonard Caul and had him track down and pin the Director's current movements. He mostly resides in his home, a towering and elaborate mansion on the outskirts of DC. Dembe gave the address of the house to Samar Navabi, so she was able to scope out the security details in place; as expected, the house is impenetrable.
She says that the concrete walls were impossible to scale, electrified at the top. The iron-gate was guarded by no less than four armed men at all times, others patrolled the tops of the walls. Copious amounts of cameras were scattered throughout the property, all exits and entries accounted for.
"You'll have a hard time getting in, Reddington," she says, her voice having a static quality over the phone. He merely hangs up the phone and makes a call to Aram.
Lizzie strides over to him, a bowl of pasta in her hands. He looks up at her, smiling as the phone buzzes in his ear. She plonks the bowl before him, grabbing his hand and wrapping it around the fork and then pointedly looking at the meal. He nods his head, shovelling the fettuccine into his mouth as Aram picks up on the other end.
"Agent Mojatabai, I have a job for you," Red proclaims loudly, nodding his head in approval at Lizzie's inquisitive gaze. Dembe has been teaching her how to cook. She bounces back into the kitchen, speaking excitedly to the bodyguard.
"Mr Reddington? Yes, what is it? Samar just arrived home, told me about the fortifications."
Red feels a fondness for the normally babbling and nervous agent. He had called the day they had arrived in England, distraught over Ressler's death. Red had told him, and Samar, to flee the Post Office, go into hiding. The Cabal would immediately move to take over the Task Force; their lives would be in danger.
And so Aram now contacts him from one of Red's safe houses, set up with all the equipment he desires. He is vengeful, determined in taking down the Cabal; it is not only his loyalty to Lizzie that now drives him.
"Aram, I need you to cause a distraction. I need you to hack into the Director's security. I don't care what you do, set off the fire alarm, anything that will draw his men away from the walls. My team will handle it from there."
The line falls dead and Red focuses his attention back to his meal, taking a moment to settle his thoughts. He hears Lizzie still talking with Dembe, can smell what he assumes will be a delicious dessert. Red sighs deeply, tilts his head back to the ceiling and smiles.
It will all be over soon.
A/N; One chapter left! I know the previous two have been a bit short, but they have been necessary to set up for the finale. I hope you enjoy this new installment either way! The final chapter is underway and should be an absolute ripper! Thank you so much for your continued support, it honestly means the world!
