The Ocean Between Us
A/N: Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review, fave or alert. Your encouragement is immensely appreciated!
In fact, I got quite a lot of requests to continue this story and although it was not my original intent, the last episode, while not my favorite, gave me some ideas (one scene in particular, you definitely know which one) so I decided to expand this story. I hope you'll like it!
Disclaimer: Check.
"Get your things, Lizzie."
Agent Keen looked up from the case file she was studying to see Red standing over her with an expectant expression. She had not seen him for a week, ever since he left her looking over Eugene Ames' daughter.
Her own words and Red's sudden silent retreat had been hanging over her like mist all this time, clouding her thoughts and blurring her vision. Unknowingly, she must have finally pushed the right button and it had caused a sudden bout of sincerity from him. He must have been stricken by his own reaction as well for never before had he just walked away to avoid her profiling of him. Before, he was always cocky and upfront about it, either challenging her or easily changing the subject. This time all he was able to do was walk away. Liz could not shake the sight of all the conflicted emotions she saw bubbling in his silent stare before he left, shoulders sagging and his hand gripping the rail like an old man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
That was over a week ago and though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was getting worried. Now that he was here, however, obviously well and in his best cocky form, she hid her thoughts under her strictly-business-you're-an-asset veneer and asked crisply, "Is this about another Blacklister?"
He handed her her coat in reply.
"Where are we going?" she asked suspiciously but put on the coat nonetheless.
"Roadtrip," he offered over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.
Liz sighed and followed him, grabbing her mobile and her purse on the way out.
Dembe was waiting for them outside and soon they were speeding through the streets of DC in Red's black limousine.
"Will you tell me where we're going? Why are you being so secretive?"
"Always so many questions, Lizzie," Red replied breezily. "Can't you just lay back and enjoy the ride?"
"That's a rhetorical question, right?"
He gave her a sideways glance, his lips pursed. "We'll be there soon and everything will become clear."
Red wasn't lying, about five minutes later they stopped in front of a pleasantly designed block of flats with large windows. She got out of the car after Reddington, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun. Barely had she managed to unpin the holster when she heard his laugh and felt his hand over hers, keeping her gun safely where it was.
"You really won't be needing this, Lizzie, I assure you."
She gave him a skeptical stare but let her hand drop from the gun and followed him through the main door onto the staircase and up to what she counted was the fifth floor. At the door numbered 64, he fished out a key from his coat pocket and opened the door. He motioned for her to get in first with a small smile playing on his lips. As she passed him she narrowed her eyes at him but it merely caused his smile to widen.
And then she was inside a moderately but tastefully furnished two-room flat, with big windows overlooking the park on the opposite side of the street. She heard the click of the door and turned towards Reddington, her hands on her hips.
"If you don't tell me why-" her voice died mid-sentence as he raised his hand, offering her the key. She looked at him incredulously, realization finally dawning on her. "Another apartment? Seriously?"
Red met her eyes with a mixture of mischief and disapproval. "Yes, since to my knowledge you are still living in that dinghy motel, which is completely unacceptable," he said, his tone mildly chiding. "You will like this one, Lizzie. Nothing too extravagant but pleasant and very comfortable," he added, a bright smile creasing his lips. "And it comes with a non-sale clause," he reserved. "There are only so many half-orphans you can give scholarships to, Lizzie."
She shook her head vigorously. "I'm not taking it," she stated categorically.
Red twined his hands behind his back and gave her a thin smile. "You know, when I was a child, I knew this boy, Sammy Millhouse. Sammy lived with his grandmother near my parents' house. He was a dear boy but he made it a point of spiting his grandmother. On one winter Saturday, as he was going out, she warned him not to go skating on the frozen lake. He wasn't really planning to go skating at all but when she told him not to, that's exactly what he did," Reddington sighed. "The ice broke under him. He was rescued but spent six months in a coma."
Liz inhaled deeply. "I'm not doing this to be contrary, Red. I can hold my own and I don't need to be rescued. By you or by anyone."
Red stared into oblivion, absorbing her words.
"This is not a matter of protecting or rescuing you, Lizzie. I know you can take care of yourself," he assured her. "But it's simply impossible for me to just sit back and watch you wither away in that hole after everything that you've already been through. After everything that you've lost."
"You keep saying I've lost so much," she said quietly, her eyes meeting. "That it was you who took much of it. But you won't tell me what it is that I've lost exactly."
"Because it is not for me to tell."
"Red, please. I need you-," her voice caught in her throat. "I need you to tell me the truth so that I can-" start trusting you and come to terms with the things I'm feeling for you, she was going to say but the look in his eyes stayed the words on her tongue.
As he listened to her, an indefinite sort of feeling strangely similar to panic started creeping up his back. He couldn't let her go there. He only ever wanted to be an invisible benefactor, he never wanted to enter into her life because that meant bringing in his wake the darkness and destruction that were his constant companions. Neither did he expect to become emotionally dependent on her, he had no right at all to depend on her in any way, and he certainly would never take anything in return, no matter how willingly she bestowed it on him. That was why it was so incredibly horrifying for him when just two weeks ago she had risked her life for him. Why he was rendered so deeply silent and helpless in the car. Because she did not come out of curiosity or because she was doing her job. She did not come for the promise of answers. She came for him.
He could never allow that to happen again. He could not let her care about him, he could not deal with it, because down there was a dangerous path. It was much simpler and neater when all that bound them was their business arrangement: trading answers for answers. That was why Lizzie's confession carried so much weight – it cracked the surface of that arrangement. Now he had to do everything in his power to cover that crack and make it whole again. Go back to business as usual. Nothing more was acceptable.
"It was me. I hired Tom," he said simply.
He wasn't going to elaborate and let her know that he hired him to watch over her, to keep her safe. That he hadn't planned for Tom to go this far. That Tom had betrayed them both, playing a twisted double game and using Liz to get information on him for Berlin. Because that was his fault as well. Had he not sought Liz out, Berlin would have left her alone and Tom wouldn't have hurt her.
"You- what?" she sputtered. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Isn't that what you wanted? The truth?"
"I can't believe this," she shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping her lips. "You buy me apartments, you stalk me at work and you choose me my husband as well? Is there any part of my life that you haven't poisoned? Anything that you've left?"
"Lizzie-"
"Get out."
"I wasn't-"
"Fine. I'll get out," she said icily through clenched teeth and swept away without a single glance at him.
He watched her go, motionless in the empty apartment.
This was the right thing to do.
Her steps died down on the stairs and an agonized grimace crept over his features.
So why did it feel so damn wrong?
tbc.
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