Liz's weekend consisted of cleaning up her motel room, watching Netflix, trying not to think of Red (and failing), and obsessively checking her phone for new text messages. He had said he knew she needed space and that he was sorry for sending those texts. She knew that meant he wouldn't send anymore, but she couldn't help but keep checking anyway. What is wrong with me, she thought, kicking herself mentally.

Even worse, the dreams continued on both Saturday and Sunday night. She woke up on Monday morning with a gasp. It had been one of the heartwrenching nightmares - Red lying on the pavement in a puddle of his own blood, gasping for his last breaths, trying to whisper her name.

Red hadn't come into the Post Office last week. It wasn't unusual for he and Dembe to leave the country for days at a time without telling anyone where he was going or what he was doing. His business was rather secretive after all.

She hoped he would still be away this week. She wasn't ready to see him again after the events of Saturday morning, and especially not right after that horrific dream.

When she arrived at the office, Aram gave her a confused look. She stopped, gazing back, wondering if she'd forgotten to brush her hair or put on makeup.

"Hey, Liz. Reddington called me about the next name on the list."

Liz tried to hide her surprise. "Okay, give me a few minutes and you can fill me in."

"Why did he call me? He always calls you."

She avoided his gaze. "Who knows what goes on in that man's mind." She forced a chuckle before turning to escape to the privacy of her office.

"Whatever you say..." Aram said under his breath, shaking his head, before Liz closed the door behind her.

Ressler wasn't at his desk. She had the room to herself, at least for a few minutes. She sank into her chair, pulling her phone out of her bag.

Nothing.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

It was a long week. They had managed to take down the blacklister with Red's assistance, but the team could tell something was going on. Red had avoided talking to Liz as much as possible, opting instead to talk to Cooper or Samar or really anyone else who was around.

Another late Friday night found Liz catching up on paperwork, trying not to think about the non-ringing, non-chirping phone in the bag behind her chair.

After making one too many mistakes on the document in front of her, she gave up with a sigh. The rest of the remaining stack could wait until Monday. Or maybe she would come in on Sunday afternoon. She clearly wasn't able to do good work tonight.

Liz gathered her jacket and bag, turned out the light, and hurriedly left the week behind her. She was mostly glad to see that everyone else had left already, but a small part of her was disappointed that Samar wasn't there to distract her like she had been the previous Friday.

On her way home, she grabbed some Chinese takeout for dinner and stopped by Trader Joe's for some cheap wine. It wasn't the best, but it would get the job done – the job being not to think about the mess that was her life, at least for a few hours.

She had just settled in for the evening – makeup off, pajamas on, laptop open in front of her, Chinese takeout in her lap – when a soft knock sounded at her motel room door.

She froze. Maybe if she just ignored him, he would go away.

It had to be him. It was always him.

Another knock sounded, a little louder. "Liz, I know you're in there. Your car is outside."

Liz sighed with relief. Samar.

She carefully set her takeout containers on the table next to her laptop and quickly reached the door, pulling it open.

Samar was holding the very same bottle of wine Liz had just purchased. Liz turned around, pointing at her bottle, and Samar laughed. "Great minds think alike?" she asked with a shrug.

Liz smiled in response.

"I thought you might like some company. I know this week was a little... strange."

Liz had never been more thankful for such a simple gesture. Sweet, sweet Samar – she knew that whatever Liz hadn't told her the week before was still bothering her, she knew that things at work with Red were beyond awkward, and she knew that she didn't want to talk about it. Liz could tell that Samar was there for support without pushing her to tell her what was going on.

"Thanks, Samar. For understanding."

Samar brushed past her into the motel room, setting her bottle of wine next to Liz's already opened bottle on the table.

"What are we watching?" She gave Liz a knowing, sympathetic smile.

Liz shrugged. "I hadn't decided. Do you have a preference?"

Samar took one look at Liz's heavy, slumped shoulders and the dark circles under her eyes before making her suggestion. "Something funny?"

Liz grinned, settled back on the couch, and pulled up some old sitcom on Netflix. Samar hadn't seen it before and she didn't know what it was about, but she just wanted to be there for her friend. She settled next to her, Liz wordlessly offering her a takeout container.

"Oh, no thanks, I already ate. You go ahead."

"Here, at least take an egg roll," Liz said, grabbing the other container off the table and pushing it in Samar's direction.

Samar took an egg roll from the box and suddenly Liz jumped back up from the couch. "Hold on, I'll get you a wine glass."

She returned swiftly and smirked while handing over the glass. "You're lucky that I even have a second one. I'm clearly not living in luxury here."

Samar chuckled. "Well, I'm not picky," she replied, taking it from Liz's outstretched hand and biting into her egg roll.

They settled in for wine and laughter, an evening of comfortable companionship, words not really needed.

About an hour later, halfway through their wine supply, Liz abruptly turned her head toward Samar, leaning against the back of the couch.

"He told me he loves me."

Samar's attention was on the screen and she barely heard Liz's quiet admission.

After a couple seconds of processing, Samar bent forward to pause Netflix before leaning back into the couch cushions, facing Liz.

She was quiet, allowing Liz to continue at her own pace, to make her own choices about what or what not to reveal.

But Liz didn't really know what else to say. She got up to retrieve her phone from her bag near the front door.

Still nothing.

She sighed, returning to her place on the couch.

Liz wordlessly went straight to Red's text messages and handed the phone over to Samar, avoiding her gaze.

Samar took the phone and skimmed over the three text messages. They didn't really explain much. She cleared her throat, wanting more information but not wanting to force Liz into giving it to her. "Honestly, I can't really say that I'm surprised."

Liz's brows furrowed, her eyes snapping to Samar's, which were still studying the phone. "What?"

Samar lifted her gaze. When her eyes lit upon Liz's baffled expression, she snorted, holding back a small laugh.

Liz frowned. "It's really not funny."

Samar reached for the second bottle of wine, opening it and pouring two very full glasses before turning back to Liz. "I'm sorry."

Liz reached out and took a huge gulp from her refilled glass.

Samar snorted again, sipping at her wine. "But it's kind of funny."

Liz felt the alcohol flowing through her bloodstream, allowing it to relax her. She pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucking her feet beneath her body. Was it funny? A huff of laughter escaped her and a tiny grin lifted the corners of her mouth. "I guess it's a little funny. Maybe."

Samar reached out, placing a hand on Liz's knee, giving a small squeeze of support. She sighed. "I'm not making light of it, I promise. I'm just saying that I kind of suspected that he had feelings for you. This whole situation was too bizarre, you know? It kind of makes more sense if you add feelings into the equation."

Liz nodded, looking down at Samar's hand on her knee. She leaned her head on the back of the couch, staring at the ugly, warped motel ceiling. It could definitely use a good cleaning.

She reached one hand out, placing it over Samar's as a silent thank you.

Liz closed her eyes, trying not to focus on her uncertainty over whether or not she should have told Samar anything.

Silence stretched between them for a minute, before Samar took a deep breath.

"Do you-"

Liz knew what she was asking immediately. "No," she replied, blushing, not letting Samar finish her question.

Samar was quiet for a moment. She could feel Liz's tension and could practically hear the wheels spinning in her mind.

"I don't know," Liz whispered.

Samar kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt Liz's thoughts.

Slightly above a whisper, Liz repeated, "I don't know. I mean, I keep having these... these dreams." She swallowed. Her eyes were still closed. She was afraid of opening them and seeing whatever expression was on Samar's face. Would it be disgust? Was she trying not to laugh? Or would it be disappointment?

Liz forced her eyes open and shifted her head a little toward Samar.

She didn't see disgust, judgment, or disappointment in her friend's expression. Just a caring concern. Tears came into Liz's eyes and she took a deep breath, blinking them away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't- This is ridiculous, I..." Liz trailed off.

Samar squeezed her knee again. "It's not ridiculous," she replied gently.

"Thank you," Liz whispered.

After a few moments of silence, Samar spoke up again. "You don't have to tell me anything else if you don't want to. But I'm here for you if you do want to."

A tear escaped despite her best efforts, and Liz wiped it away with the hand that wasn't covering Samar's.

She tried to smile at her friend, to show that she was oh so grateful for her presence, before staring at the ceiling again. She decided it couldn't get any worse. She could tell Samar more.

Liz cleared her throat. "Every single night since it happened, he's been there in my dreams. Sometimes he's just...there. Sometimes we have conversations that leave me utterly confused in the morning, unable to remember what happened. And other times..." she trailed off. "Other times they're horrible nightmares, with Red bleeding, whispering my name as he's dying." Her voice cracked on the last word. "I don't know what it means, Samar. I don't know what any of it means," she finished, releasing a deep, shaking breath.

A wave of emotions came crashing down on her, and she leaned forward pulling her hands to her face, leaning her elbows on her thighs, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Samar didn't really think anything she said could help Liz at the moment, so she just scooted closer, leaving one hand on her friend's knee and lifting the other to gently trace soothing patterns on Liz's upper back. She could tell Liz was trying hard not to cry.

"Liz, look at me," Samar said gently, firmly.

Liz lifted her head from her hands and met Samar's gaze, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She wouldn't let them out, she couldn't.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. About any of this." She gave Liz a supportive smile.

"Well, I am," Liz replied.

Samar huffed a chuckle under her breath. "Don't be. He's incredibly handsome."

Liz let out a genuine, surprised laugh, leaning into Samar's shoulder as a few tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

Samar maneuvered her arm to more tightly wrap around her friend, resting her hand on Liz's upper arm. "And I was being serious. It's obvious that he cares about you. He loves you. That's hard to resist. So don't be embarrassed."

"Even if I'm not embarrassed... it's not good. We work together. I'm an FBI agent. He's a fucking most-wanted criminal!" Liz's voice was getting louder and more panicked as she continued.

"I know. It's complicated. Just... don't think about that right now. Think about what you even want. It's only a problem if you pursue it," Samar reasoned, quickly adding, "And I'm not saying you shouldn't pursue it. Not at all. I just want you to think about it. And be sure of what you want before you make a decision."

Liz nodded and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling while wiping the wetness from her cheeks. She covered Samar's hand with her own again and finally looked her friend in the eyes before leaning back into the cushions again. "Oh god," she sighed, trying to release the anxiety in her chest. "Well. I'm really glad I told you. I feel slightly more sane now," she chuckled.

Samar huffed a laugh in return, grabbed Liz's wine glass, and pushed it toward her. "Here, more alcohol." Liz took the glass from her, smiling. "But first, let me hide your phone," Samar continued, grabbing Liz's phone from the table and pushing it behind the pillows on her end of the couch, out of Liz's immediate reach.

Liz started laughing, hard, more tears forming in her eyes. She couldn't stop. It felt so good to laugh with a friend.

A friend.

Liz's laughter was contagious, and soon Samar joined in, until they almost forgot why they were laughing in the first place.