Liz's cab was driving through the city streets toward the address of Red's apartment in Bethesda.

She couldn't lose her nerve. Not now.

She took deep breaths, trying to hold on to the feeling of absolute certainty that had struck her at the restaurant.

Certainty that there was nowhere else she wanted to be other than in that infuriating man's arms, nothing she wanted more than to finally know what his lips would feel like on her own.

Finally, the cab pulled over in front of the unremarkable apartment building that Red apparently called home. She handed the driver her fare and took a deep breath, looking up at his window, soft light spilling through the hazy curtains, before she opened the car door.

The walk to the front door was a blur. She could barely think straight from the nerves.

Once inside, she drew in a shaky breath outside the door to his apartment, before gathering the courage to knock.

She heard movement from behind the old slab of heavy wood. To her surprise, Red himself answered the door. Dembe was nowhere to be found. She hadn't exactly been expecting that.

But there was Red.

Red.

"Lizzie? I thought we were meeting tomorrow." Red asked, somewhat bewildered.

She swallowed. "Yeah, I, uh- I couldn't wait until tomorrow." Her voice was barely above a whisper, shaking.

Red's brows furrowed, but he stepped back from the door. "Alright. Please come in."

Liz walked through the entry hallway and turned to face him.

"Would you like to sit? I can make some tea." Red offered.

Liz shook her head. "No, no, that's okay." She needed to say it, to get it out.

Say it.

"I'm sorry, Red. I'm sorry I acted the way I did. I was just... surprised. More than a little surprised." She let out a breathy, humorless laugh filled with emotion.

He tried to speak, but she pushed forward. She needed to continue.

"I've been incredibly stupid, and blind apparently. Because..." she broke off, his eyes glued to her flushed face.

"I love you too, Red. I'm sorry I didn't know, I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out, I'm sorry if I put you through hell, but I've done a lot of thinking, and I don't care what anyone thinks of this, of us. I don't care what you've done in the past. I know you're a good man. And I'm so sorry for all the terrible things I've said to you over the past two years. The way I've treated you has been unforgivable at times. And now I know that everything you've done for me was out of love... I feel even worse now. I feel awful. You were just trying to protect me-" She paused to try to regain control over her quickly spiraling-out-of-control emotions, but hurried to continue before Red could interrupt her train of thought. She could tell he was stunned, but she couldn't risk the interruption.

"I know you didn't mean to tell me about your feelings. You were drunk. But you did, it's done, and you know what? That night is what made me realize that all I want is to kiss you, Red. That night made me realize that I love you."

She stopped, unable to continue. She didn't really know what else there was to say. He just stared at her, frozen in place by the front door.

After a few seconds that felt like hours, Liz began moving her feet toward him. She needed to reach out and touch him, to know that her speech had actually been heard by its intended audience. To know he was actually standing in front of her, hearing her words.

But suddenly, Red lifted his hands in front of his chest, silently imploring her to stop.

She stiffened, her heartbeat in her throat.

"Lizzie..." He trailed off.

"Red, please don't say something stupid right now. I can tell you're about to say something absolutely, 100% idiotic," Liz managed to breathe out, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

They searched each other's faces. Liz could feel tears gathering in her eyes and she hurriedly blinked them back.

"Lizzie, it wasn't just that I was drunk. I never intended to inform you of my feelings."

Liz was having trouble breathing.

Red continued, clearly upset. "You don't love me, Lizzie. You can't. I am dangerous. You would never be safe with me. Your safety is the most important thing. Do you understand that? You must be safe-"

Amidst a furious sob, Liz managed to choke out, "You make me feel safe. You do. Only you, Red, you-" She wasn't making any sense, she couldn't form coherent sentences. She was on the verge of panicking.

Red interrupted. "I can't, Lizzie. I cannot be your safety. I should never have entered your life. I should have left as soon as Tom was gone. I am so deeply sorry if I've hurt you, but this wasn't supposed to happen, damn it, you were never supposed to know-" His voice was rising in anger – anger at himself, anger at Tom, anger at all his mortal enemies that were keeping him from being with his Lizzie. "You don't love me, Lizzie," he repeated. "I ruined everything. I swear to god, I'm never drinking again. You were fine two weeks ago, you were happy, you're desperate-"

Liz cut him off angrily. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Don't you fucking dare. You think I was happy? I've been miserable since you entered my life, Reddington. Absolutely miserable. A mess. The night I came over here? I came because I needed you. I was alone in that shitty motel room sobbing because I had never felt more alone, but then I remembered that I had you, Red. That does not make me desperate, do you hear me? Stop trying to invalidate my feelings for you to make yourself feel better. Just stop. Don't you dare tell me how to feel." A sob rose in her throat, cutting off any remaining words she had left in her, and she briefly brought her hand to her mouth to try to hold it in as best she could.

Red frowned at her, his eyes glistening. She had never seen him this vulnerable before. She didn't want to see anymore of it.

Liz pushed past him to the door. He tried to reach out to keep her from opening it, but the look she gave him cut him straight through to the bone, to the gut, and he stepped back to let her leave.

Liz ran down the hallway, down the flights of stairs, out of the building. She never wanted to see this damn place again.

She couldn't stop running. She ran down the street, block after block, turning left, right, left, right, running, running, running, until she could feel the chilly night air stinging against the wet tracks on her cheeks.

She stopped, gasping for breath, the sobs wracking her body making it difficult. Looking around, she could tell she was on a residential street, but it was urban enough to have benches at least. She forced her exhausted body over to a bench and collapsed into it heavily.

The sound of her phone ringing startled her on the quiet, empty street where she was alone with her thoughts. She pulled it out of her jacket pocket.

When she saw his name, she released an involuntary wail of frustration. She felt her chest ache, like he was reaching through the city blocks between them, grabbing and twisting her already bruised heart. Filled with pain and disgust, she declined the call, her finger pressing down on the fragile screen with more force than necessary.

She stared at her phone, unmoving. Unable to put it back in her pocket. Unable to do anything but stare at the notification on the screen: '1 missed call from Nick's Pizza'

She was angry. God, she was so angry. But damn, she was hurt just as deeply. She had never even considered this a possible outcome. Not last weekend at the diner. Not over the past week while she fruitlessly waited for his text message response. Not over margaritas with Samar. Not on her way to see him tonight.

Not once.

Suddenly, the sight of the phone in her trembling hand caused her to remember her promise to Samar earlier in the evening.

Liz had told her she would be the first to know, after all.

With shaking fingers, she found Samar's name in her contacts and called her. She wasn't even conscious of the tears streaming down her cheeks at this point, the pounding headache forming behind her eyes, the inability to breathe normally. She just wanted to hear her friend's voice.

Samar picked up on the second ring. "Liz?"

Liz couldn't speak, she couldn't. She just let out a ragged breath, coupled with a muffled sob.

"Liz? What happened?"

"Oh god, Samar. Oh god," she whispered. She could feel herself crying harder at the sound of her friend's concern.

"Where are you?" Samar asked firmly.

"I don't know. Some- somewhere in Bethesda. On a bench. I couldn't- I left- I-" Another sob escaped from her throat, cutting her off.

Samar's rational, calm voice cut through the chaos in her mind. "Liz, look at the map on your phone and tell me where you are. I'm leaving my apartment now."

Liz took a deep breath, thankful for Samar's functioning brain, and replied, "Oh, right, hold on," while checking her current location.

"Elm and Denton. I'm-" She paused, twisting to take in her surroundings. "I'm across from a blue house. There's a park down the street."

Liz could hear Samar's muffled voice repeating her location. "I'm already in a cab. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't go anywhere."

Liz laughed stiffly through her tears. "I couldn't if I wanted to," she muttered. It was silent for a few seconds. "Thank you, Samar. Thanks. I-"

"I know. You don't need to say anything."

Liz allowed herself a tiny smile. "Okay," she whispered before hanging up the phone, clutching it tightly in her hand.

Ten minutes later, Liz saw headlights turn onto the street from the end of the block. She turned to look at the bright halos moving toward her. The cab slowed to a stop a few feet from her bench and she stood up.

Samar jumped out of the car, a frantic, frightened expression transforming her features.

Liz couldn't move. She was embarrassed. She didn't like crying in front of people, but god, she didn't want to be alone after...that. Whatever that was.

Luckily, before she could say anything, Samar was already standing in front of her, pulling her in close. Liz dropped her head onto Samar's shoulder, throwing her arms around her, crushing her, practically collapsing in her embrace.

The tears, the sobs, had abated somewhat between the phone call and Samar's arrival, but now they were back full force.

Liz broke down in her friend's arms, a mixture of tears and snot soaking through the shoulder of Samar's thin jacket.

Samar didn't say anything. She just held her, no questions asked, until every ounce of energy, emotion, and tears had drained from Liz's body.

Liz wasn't sure how long she had been crying in her friend's arms, but as her breathing slowed and the tears gradually stopped, she felt a pang of shame at her outburst. Unwilling to meet Samar's gaze, she allowed her forehead to remain buried in her friend's shoulder, hands still clutching at Samar's back for support.

Noticing that Liz had calmed somewhat, Samar smoothed her hand over her friend's hair and, without pulling back, understanding Liz's need to keep her face hidden, breathed near her ear, "Let's go back to my apartment. I asked the cab to wait."

She could feel Liz nod against her shoulder. She pulled away slightly, and Liz looked down.

"Come on," Samar suggested gently, tugging Liz's arm toward the waiting cab.

Liz followed her into the car, but refused to look at her. She gazed out the window, unseeing, as Samar told the driver to return to where had had picked her up. As they passed through streets filled with quiet houses, soft streetlights, the occasional squirrel, all Liz could see was Red's vulnerable face when she had run out the door. She wondered what he was doing now.

Samar had been watching Liz quietly. When she heard a new hitch in Liz's breath and saw her attempting to dry her face, she reached across the empty middle seat without hesitation and took hold of Liz's free hand, gripping it firmly.

Liz finally looked at Samar, eyes glistening, cheeks red and blotchy, chunks of falling hair sticking to the wet trails of tears.

"Sorry," Liz whispered.

"What on earth are you apologizing for?" Samar asked softly, dumbfounded.

Liz gestured up and down her body with her free hand and cleared her throat to speak. "Look at me. I'm pathetic. Weak. We just started getting to know each other two weeks ago, and all I've done is cry and complain. Hell, getting to know each other isn't even the right way of putting it, because I've barely learned anything about you. I'm a terrible friend. I'm selfish. Jesus... I'm sorry."

Samar frowned and spoke in a kind, but firm voice. "Elizabeth. You can be vulnerable without being weak. You've been dealing with... insanity, complete and utter shit, for two years- for some unknown reason, life is... it's fighting you, trying to make you weak and pathetic. But you have never stopped fighting back, Liz. Not once." She paused to let that sink in. "You're allowed to cry sometimes. This?" She gestured between them. "This does not make you weak and pathetic. It makes you human."

Liz leaned her head back against the headrest, gazing at the dirty ceiling of the cab. She took a deep breath, not even trying to fight the fresh wave of tears tracing the still-wet paths left on her cheeks.

Samar continued. "And we have plenty of time for you to get to know me. You're not being selfish. Not at all."

Liz closed her eyes and smiled tightly, her head still leaning back. She squeezed Samar's hand. "I'm still sorry. That all you've dealt with for weeks is this lovely version of me."

Samar squeezed back. "We all have rough patches. Plus, that's what friends are for, right?"

Liz snorted through her tears. "Again with the clichés," she joked.

"And what did I tell you about clichés?" Samar playfully scolded.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Liz replied quietly, turning her head slightly on the headrest to smile at her friend.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.