Liz awoke the next morning to the sound of her phone dinging from the couch where Samar had hidden it the night before.
She got up to retrieve it and blinked a few times to clear her sleep-blurred vision. Samar's name came into focus and she grinned.
"Hey, just wanted to let you know that I don't have much of anything going on this weekend, so if you want to talk things through let me know. I know you need time to think, but I'm free if you need me."
Liz's smile widened and she quickly typed back, "You're amazing. Thanks for everything, Samar."
Suddenly Liz realized she had no memory of any dream whatsoever from the previous night. Their girls' night, along with the cheap wine, had helped calm her anxiety somewhat. Apparently at least enough to have a good night's sleep for once.
She set her phone next to her laptop on the table where she'd left it and hopped in the shower. Under the spray of the hot water, her thoughts seemed to come untangled and she knew she needed to talk to Red. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do exactly yet, but she needed to sort things out.
After her shower, she walked straight back to her phone and sat on the couch wrapped in her towel, hair dripping on the cushions behind her.
"Red, I'm sorry for being so distant. I shouldn't have left that way last weekend, or the weekend before. I know you had been drinking, I know you didn't want any of this to happen this way. I'm sorry. Can we be professional and civil toward each other this week at work, please? I need some more time to think things through, but maybe we can talk next weekend."
She stared at the words she'd typed, rereading them over and over again before forcing herself to hit send.
She closed her eyes, releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Upon reopening her eyes, she couldn't stop staring at her phone. She watched it for minutes straight. She had to get out of her motel room and focus on something else or she would go insane.
After getting dressed and ready for the day, she grabbed her notebook and a pen, stuffing them in her bag along with her sunglasses. She glanced at her phone on the table. She shouldn't take it. She should leave it behind.
But she gave in, dropping it into her bag, making a deal with herself that she wouldn't take it out unless she heard proof of a text message or an incoming call.
She drove to her favorite coffee shop, ordered a latte, and continued on her way downtown. She grumbled at the lack of parking, wishing she had taken the metro or the bus, but eventually she found a bench along the National Mall, shaded by pink cherry blossoms.
Liz sipped at her latte, grateful for the warm spring weather. Maybe nature would help her figure out what to do. Maybe the city's monuments and its vast history would give her some perspective. She set her drink next to her on the bench along with her bag and crossed her legs, staring out at the circle of flags fluttering in the wind around the Washington Monument.
Raymond Reddington was a criminal.
She knew the number of people he had killed was so high it had probably become impossible to count. But she also knew that he had turned himself in to the FBI in order to help her see her marriage and husband for what they were, to save her from a man she hadn't even known was dangerous.
She knew he had a past before his criminal history began. She knew he had loved before, had been married before, had had a daughter, a family.
Maybe he hadn't had a choice. Maybe he had had to become who he is today in order to survive.
Hadn't she changed in the past two years, not necessarily for the better? Yes, a lot of it was due to Red himself, but he had also been trying to help her. Behind the monstrous persona, he was just a human being like everyone else.
Hadn't she become a profiler because she wanted to understand how criminals' minds worked? And she did understand now. She understood that criminals weren't all black and white. Especially Raymond Reddington.
Red was very, very gray.
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That night's dream was a nightmare. Filled with Red and his blood and his dying breaths and his whispered Lizzies.
But it was different this time.
This time, Liz could see herself next to him, holding his hand, talking to him, urging him to hold on, begging him not to leave her.
She awoke with a gasp, tears filling her eyes.
Liz quickly grabbed her phone from the nightstand and tapped out a message to Samar.
"Can I take you up on your offer today?"
She checked the time. Shit, it wasn't even 8am yet. Samar was probably sleeping. It was Sunday, after all.
But a response came within two minutes, and Liz sighed with relief.
"Of course, just say when and where."
"9:30 at the diner in Silver Spring. We can grab breakfast. Does that work for you? Sorry if I woke you, I didn't realize it was so early."
"I'll be there. And no need to apologize, I was already awake."
Liz sighed, dropped her phone to the bed beside her, and tried to wrap her mind around her dream. Around everything, really.
She pushed herself up and walked to the shower. Maybe meeting Samar in a public place would help keep her emotions in check.
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Liz arrived at the diner ten minutes early and, to her surprise, found Samar already waiting for her, sitting in a corner booth far removed from the few other customers scattered throughout the establishment.
Liz smiled. "You're early."
Samar shrugged but didn't say anything.
Liz practically collapsed into the seat across from her with a frustrated groan.
"Was it a dream?" Samar asked softly.
Liz eyed her friend for a moment. "Are you psychic or something?"
Samar huffed a laugh. "No, just an educated guess. You texted me at 7:20 on a Sunday morning when most people in our line of work would be enjoying their chance to sleep in."
"Touché," Liz replied with a slight frown.
"You didn't wake me up though," Samar quickly assured her. "I have insomnia. Sleeping in doesn't exist for me."
"Well, it doesn't exist for me either. Hasn't for, oh, about two years," Liz replied, a sad smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Their waiter stopped by and they ordered coffee, pancakes, eggs, and bacon before lapsing into an expectant silence.
"So. Your dream," Samar prompted.
Liz sighed, running a hand through her hair. "My dream."
She paused, glancing around, aware of their public location, before starting in a low voice. "My dream was... terrible. Worse than usual."
Samar just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
"I mean, it was the same as always. Red dying, bleeding on the ground, gasping and whispering my name. But there was a slight variation."
She looked down as the waiter set their cups of coffee in front of them, leaving a carafe on the edge of the table.
Good, they would be needing plenty of refills.
"I was there with him. It was like... I was watching myself, there on the ground next to him." She gulped. "Holding his hand," she continued, quieter. "I was begging him, pleading with him, telling him to please, please, hold on, that he couldn't leave me-"
Liz's voice broke on the last word and she took a deep breath, leaning her face into her hand.
Samar's voice was gentle. "Is that how you feel? You don't want him to leave you?"
Liz looked into her friend's eyes for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding. "Yes," she whispered, the urge to cry forming in the back of her throat. "I know it's crazy, I know he's done horrible things, but he's not a horrible person, you know? He's not. He's just a human being who did what he had to do to survive." She lowered her voice even further. "Would a truly bad person turn himself into the FBI to save me from my own husband?" She shook her head. "No. He's obviously cared about me for a long time. He cares about my safety more than his own. He would die for me, Samar. He would. I know he would."
Liz stopped, unable to continue.
Samar reached out to Liz's free hand, resting on the table next to her cup of coffee, and locked her fingers with Liz's, holding on tight.
"I don't disagree with you," Samar finally replied.
"And he told me he loved me. I mean, he was drunk and he didn't mean to say it, but...he meant what he said, I could tell."
Samar stayed quiet, letting Liz work through her thoughts.
"How long has he loved me? Why did he surrender himself to the FBI for me? Did he love me before I even knew he existed? I'm so confused. I don't know what to believe. I know he was telling the truth, but I don't... I just don't understand any of it."
Samar breathed out a concerned sigh. She was just as confused as the lost woman sitting across from her. "I'm not going to lie to you, Liz. None of us fully understand what's between you two. But the love is obvious. The why? The when? Not so obvious. But isn't the love what's most important here? The love itself. He loves you."
Liz swallowed roughly, tightening her grip on Samar's hand. She couldn't meet her eyes as she confessed in a whisper, "I think I love him too."
Samar stared at Liz until she looked up at her, meeting her gaze. She could see trepidation and even shame in her friend's eyes. Samar gave her a real smile, filled with truth and support. "I know you do. I was just waiting for you to figure it out."
Liz laughed a little, blinking away the sting of threatening tears. "So you are psychic," she replied, a small grin on her face.
"No, but I do have eyes," Samar smirked.
Liz snorted. "That obvious, huh?"
Samar shrugged, grinning.
"God, I feel like such an idiot," Liz admitted with a sigh.
Samar shook her head, furrowing her brow. "You shouldn't. It's an incredibly complicated situation. It was only obvious to me because I'm an outsider." She tilted her head, adding "An observant outsider."
Liz grinned at Samar, looking into her eyes. "I don't know, I still say you're psychic. You asked me to go get drinks with you when I really..." She trailed off, her eyes wandering to the carafe at the edge of the table before resolutely returning her gaze to Samar. "I really needed a friend. And you knew. Somehow."
Samar squeezed her hand. She could feel herself tearing up, and she was glad because it meant that Liz could see the evidence that this meant a lot to her as well.
Once she was sure that their silent conversation had been understood on both ends, Samar lightened the mood. "We were bound to become friends eventually, with just the two of us girls in that meat locker of an office."
Liz's body was overtaken with laughter, which made Samar beam and chuckle. She disentangled her hand from Samar's and hid her face in her hands trying to contain her glee. The waiter brought their breakfast over, making a quick escape from the hysterical laughter and lingering tears.
After a minute, Liz calmed down, clutching her stomach. "Seriously. I've laughed more this weekend than I have in... I don't even know how long. Awhile."
Samar smirked. "Two years?"
Liz nodded her head with a grin. "Probably about two years, yes." She dug into her eggs and bacon, Samar following suit with her pancakes.
After a few minutes of silent eating, Liz refilled her coffee and Samar's and took a long gulp, before clearing her throat. She paused with a piece of bacon in her hand, looking back at Samar.
"Thank you." Liz's voice came out small, almost childlike. Samar looked up from her plate and the sincere expression on Liz's face made it hard to swallow her mouthful of syrupy pancake.
Liz smiled and bit into the piece of bacon in her hand, her eyes still on Samar's face.
"Anytime." Samar replied, her voice both quiet and strong.
They finished their meals in comfortable silence. When every bite of food was gone, they sat back, full, digesting quietly for a couple minutes before Samar began searching Liz's face curiously.
"So. Do you…know what you're going to do? Do you have a plan?" Samar asked hesitantly.
"Kind of. Maybe," Liz replied, unsure.
Samar waited patiently.
Damn, she's good, thought Liz. She knew just when to push and when to sit back and listen.
Liz sighed. "I texted him yesterday."
Without hesitation, Samar asked, "Did he reply?"
Liz's face drooped. "No. Surprisingly."
Samar frowned slightly. "What did you say?"
"The gist? I told him I understand that none of this was his intention, I apologized for acting so immature… I said I needed some more time to think things through, suggested we meet next weekend to talk, and asked if we could try to be..." She paused, searching for the right word. "...normal, at work this week, in front of everyone."
Samar nodded approvingly. "Seems reasonable. He's probably just giving you the space you requested."
Liz nodded in understanding, worry evident in her features.
"No need to worry. Promise."
"There you go with your psychic abilities again. How can you possibly make that promise if you're not psychic?" Liz smirked.
Samar let out a surprisingly loud burst of laughter. "Okay, okay, I don't promise, per se. But trust me, your observant friend is fairly certain that everything will be fine." She smiled reassuringly at Liz, before turning her eyes to the waiter and taking the check from him.
Standing up from her booth seat, Samar tossed back over her shoulder, "I've got this one." She could tell Liz was about to protest, so she quickly added, "No arguments. You can buy me a drink or two next weekend if it'll make you feel better," before heading up to the cashier at the front of the diner.
Liz smiled to herself, filled with gratitude for this newfound friendship, before grabbing her bag and trailing after Samar.
Outside, before parting ways, Samar stopped and pulled Liz into a swift embrace, clutching her tightly.
"Keep me posted, okay?" she whispered near Liz's ear after a moment.
Feeling Liz nod her head in response, Samar pulled away, her hands remaining on Liz's shoulders, her grip strong. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Liz smiled. "See you tomorrow."
Liz had turned to walk away when she heard Samar quip, "Sleep well tonight. Don't let the Red bugs bite." She turned slightly to look back, snorting with a dumbfounded, amused look on her face.
"Okay, sorry, that was a truly atrocious pun. Pretend I didn't say anything." Samar covered her face with one hand, slightly embarrassed, her mouth twisting into an amused grimace.
"Atrocious, yes. But actually fairly clever." Liz smirked at Samar, before walking off in the direction of her car.
Samar watched her for a few seconds, then turned away and crossed the street.