Author's Note: Set right after Anslo Garrick Part Conclusion.
It felt as if she was preparing the room for a fragile newborn. Clean sheets and floors so tenaciously disinfected could persuade even the most reasonable mind the room didn't house a single microbe.
He was alive and the least she could do to channel her residual fear was to prepare the bedroom for when he returned.
He was in a lot of pain, Dembe had warned on the phone. Drugged so that every nerve in his body felt as if it was actually exposed, he'd specified.
She recognized her fear for his safety had unleashed something. She'd been actively trying to suppress her natural urge to dig deeper until she'd discovered what the essence of her obsession was. It could wait. Making sure the temperature in her bedroom was exactly right could not. 25 degrees. Not more, not less.
Dembe was supporting Reddington's left side on the short path from the Mercedes to her apartment. Red was doing his own walking, she noticed. Where there was walking, there was hope this day would eventually come to an end. And he'd wake up the next morning, good as new.
Mere seconds later his left side was supported by her body. He wouldn't utter a word. "Are you in pain?" she'd asked him. "What do you feel?" Not a word. His breaths were short and frequent. They were supplementing screams and whimpers.
She thanked Dembe and told him he could go. Half a nod provided by Reddington and they were alone.
TBC
