As Dembe left to ready the dinghy armed with his instructions, he stole a glance back at the FBI agent. He'd seen that look before too. It was obvious there was more wrong with the man than being seasick. He had to hand it to his boss. That combination that made up Raymond Reddington would always be an enigma to him. He was without doubt a ruthless killer, disposing of people almost without qualm. A monster, as he'd heard Agent Keen call him. And she was absolutely right - he'd seen it first hand on numerous occasions. But he'd also seen the other persona - the one that he'd just left behind in the cockpit - that of concerned caregiver.
His boss cared for both FBI Agents. Differently for sure, but he cared for both without a doubt. He understood why he cared for Agent Keen. Not specifically, but he'd seen and heard things over the years. What he found fascinating was how much he took care of Agent Ressler. Was it because Agent Keen maybe liked Agent Ressler? Because his boss realized Agent Ressler was good for his Lizzie? Somehow, he thought it was more than that. Where Raymond Reddington was concerned, it was always deeper with much more under the surface.
As he climbed into the dinghy to start looking for the oars and get ready to leave, he looked back up at the yacht. He couldn't see them anymore, but he knew for sure that even now, his boss would tend to Agent Ressler. Making sure he was settled even though one of his enemies was sitting watching the sunset on the back deck. If someone ever asked him how he was able to work for a man like Raymond Reddington, he would smile silently. Because if they had to ask, then they had only seen the killer version of Red. If they truly knew the man they would never have to ask.
He smiled, placed the oars in the oarlocks, lifted the rope off the mooring post and rowed away from the yacht. "I shall return soon, my brother," he said out loud, setting out in the small boat in the glow of the setting sun.
###
Ressler sat in the captain's chair as Dembe left, shaking uncontrollably with muscles that were about to cramp. He wanted very much to get up off the chair, slink down to the bedroom and fall onto the bed. But that all seemed too difficult and way too far to attempt right now.
He was in a strange place - simultaneously exhausted yet completely on edge. His body was betraying him, shaking and trembling out of control. His muscles were getting wound up and he'd have to start moving very soon to try and hold off the cramps. And even though his body was exhausted, being figuratively slapped in the face by Red had woken him up in an almost surprising manner.
I'm a street thug about to mug someone to get my next fix.
The image was both startling and horrific. But as he looked at his trembling, disheveled, sweaty reflection in the front windows he could see the resemblance immediately. Red had nailed it in one.
"Stay here a moment, Donald. I need to go talk to my guests." Red reluctantly left Ressler sitting in the cockpit and went out to the back deck to talk to Berlin.
Stay here? I'm not going anywhere, remember?
His muscles threatened to cramp in his legs again. He'd sat still too long. Springing out of the chair he began walking briskly around the cockpit. He couldn't hold off the cramps much longer though, not the way his muscles were aching from the continual shaking. And so he walked, stumbling in parts, clutching his stomach as cramps tore through it. With sweat pouring off him, he continued his laps around the room, unable to keep his body still.
Red finished talking to Berlin, having ascertained the man had a contingency plan. Failure to show up at a certain location at a certain time this evening would immediately dispatch his security team to look for him at his last known location. By his calculations, there should be a boat showing up in a couple of hours to pick him up. It was impossible to verify that without communications though. With that settled, Red headed back to Ressler in the cockpit, surprised to see the FBI agent walking briskly around the room instead of sitting on the chair.
"Donald, how are you doing?" Red asked him quietly.
"Fine. I'm fine," he panted as he continued doing his laps, heading away from the criminal. As he rounded the turn and walked back toward Red, he slowed and then stopped, his chest heaving. He looked at Red, then looked away, unable to meet the man's gaze.
"So I'm going to take an educated guess and say it's opiates. Pain meds. Am I right?" Red asked the agent gently.
Oh my God...here we go...
"Yes... OxyContin..." said Ressler, and as soon as the word was out of his mouth, the wall fell down. He had admitted his poison to another person. It was no longer a secret he bore alone. "I tried not to. I tried, but... I needed to...to push through..." he couldn't finish and turned away to continue his lap, brushing the tears away. As he rounded the turn and faced Red again, his tears were stilled and he looked at Red silently, suddenly unsure what to do.
Red had held off telling Ressler that Lizzie would be here 'soon', because if Donald knew she was coming, he'd have far too much time to think about being seen like this by her, and would talk himself out of letting her help. Because Red knew that if Lizzie simply showed up, Ressler wouldn't be able to stop himself gravitating to her.
He took in the sweaty, wild eyed agent before him. "The first thing you need to do is go take a shower. Seriously Donald, you've sweat up a storm tonight." Red managed a smile at that and Ressler nodded in agreement, glad for something to actually do.
"There are clean clothes in the closet that should fit you," he added, as Ressler headed for the lounge area to head downstairs. He didn't tell Red he'd already seen the clothes in the closet. Because to admit that would mean he might have to admit he'd found the gun in there too. And he didn't feel the need to mention that right now.
###
The cramps hit while Ressler was standing in the shower, the first one shooting through his left calf. As he tried to stretch his calf muscle, that in turn caused his foot to cramp. Gasping in pain while attempting to straighten his leg, he turned off the water and hobbled out. Using the bathtub for leverage, he finally pulled the muscle into a better position and the cramps relented. He was about to stand upright when his right calf followed suit, caught in a vise-like grip. As he pushed on his leg to ease that cramp, his left leg decided it wasn't done yet either.
And to add insult to injury, his stomach cramped at the same time, shortly followed by cramps shooting through his ribs. He dropped to the floor, unable to stretch in any way that would alleviate every cramp. Tears fell and he whimpered in pain as his body locked up completely. Unable to get up off the floor, he rolled over and slid across the bathroom floor, aided by the fact he was still wet. Managing to haul himself up into a crawling position once he reached the bedroom carpet, he aimed for the bed, and finally hauled himself up. Quickly throwing on the clean shorts, he fell into the bed, pulling the blankets over in an attempt to warm his muscles.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on lying completely still despite the shakes that filled his body. Focused on anything except his cramped muscles. Because the second he concentrated on them, they clenched even harder. So he lay in bed, buried his head in the pillow and thought about Audrey. Her smile, the way she looked at him, the way she had felt when he'd hugged her, loved her, held her.
And lying like that, surrounded in memories of his lost lover, his body relaxed and he fell into an exhausted sleep.
###
Ressler's memories turned into a dream. But then the dream became a nightmare. Softness turned to horror. Joy became unbearable pain. Love became loss. Fiancés and unborn babies died in his arms. And work colleagues died horrible, blood filled deaths. And leering over it all, a one handed man, who looked at him in amusement and condescension.
Even as he shot awake with his chest heaving, all he could see was blood. The memory of blood pouring over his hands, all over his clothes and all over the floor. The look in Meera's eyes as she had died. The look on Liz's face when they looked at the photo of Meera's children. And the man in his dream, the one handed man had ordered that. Had ordered them hunted down! Except he wasn't just in his dream. He was on this yacht!
He's right here! The man who had Meera killed is right here!
Ressler had no concept of the fact that his brain wasn't thinking straight. That his mind was being held hostage and his body was going into shock. Its expected next dose had not shown up and his brain needed it to function. Not to get high or ease pain, but to regulate his systems and keep him looking and acting normal. And so, as Ressler lay trembling in bed thinking of Berlin being on this very yacht, he was completely unaware that his brain was no longer functioning correctly.
As he almost fell out of bed, finding that his legs had turned to jello, his mind was whirling.
If Meera hadn't have died, I wouldn't have started taking more Oxy. I wouldn't have got so addicted to them!
I feel like this because of what Berlin did!
And with his mind betraying him and leading him astray, he grabbed the gun from under the pillow and slipped it in the back of his waistband before hiding it with the clean shirt.
This is his fault! He did this to me! I need to know why!
And armed, shaking from head to toe, not even stopping to throw on his shoes, he hobbled out of the bedroom to find Berlin.
###
Red approached him as he saw him coming up the stairs into the lounge area. "Donald, you should be..." But in an instant, he realized Ressler wasn't listening. Wasn't even looking at him.
Ressler barely even noticed Red. He didn't stop and made his way unsteadily to where Berlin was sitting on a couch in a forward section of the lounge near the bar. He stood right in front of the man, shaking uncontrollably.
Berlin calmly looked at the shoeless, casually dressed FBI agent before him.
And there it is! That amused look!
Ressler spoke, aware his voice was shaking, but needing to get this out. "I want to know why you targeted us. We were just doing our jobs," he started, glaring at Berlin.
Berlin looked thoughtfully at the agent, but didn't say anything.
"You killed a woman I was supposed to protect and almost murdered my boss. We were just doing our jobs!" he yelled at Berlin, frustrated he wasn't even answering him.
Red approached, standing beside the couch that Berlin was sitting on. "Donald, this won't help."
Wild eyed, he looked up at Red, gritting his teeth as he shook. "I need to know this!" If Ressler saw the sympathy in Red's gaze, he ignored it.
Berlin spoke now, but not to Ressler. He glanced at Red. "Your puppy has a sharp bite," he said, and chuckled.
"Don't! Don't you dare laugh at me!" Ressler shouted at the German. And at that moment he reached back, found the loaded gun and held it on Berlin.
Berlin motioned for his men to stay well back.
"Oh, God..." Red could see this going from bad to worse and attempted to settle the unstable agent. "Donald, come over to the galley. Sit down and try and eat something..." Red almost implored the agent now, needing to defuse this.
Ressler glared at Red. "Shut up! Just shut up!" and turned his attention back to Berlin, inching closer to him.
"You did this! You killed Meera! Almost killed my boss! You did this to me!" he shouted, standing in front of Berlin, holding the gun shakily in both his hands.
Red held out his hand to Berlin, urging him not to inflame this situation even more. "Donald, please... give me the gun..."
Ressler wasn't listening to Red. "You are one of the reasons I'm going through this!" he yelled at Berlin, angry that the man wasn't defending himself. "And you sent Liev and tried to kill us too! You tried to kill Liz!"
A cramp tore through his stomach at that moment, and the gun dipped a little. Red saw the opportunity and took a step forward. But Ressler steadied himself and aimed the gun at Red, breathing hard.
"Don't! Don't make me, Reddington!" While holding the gun on Berlin he had been 'fine'. But aiming the gun at Red caused angry tears to fall. "Just don't!" He turned the gun back to Berlin again.
"You killed her! I had her blood all over me!" he screamed at Berlin, emphasizing his hands. Showing him where Meera's blood had been. "She had two kids! Two girls! And a husband!"
He was out of control now, the gun held in his shaking hand, screaming at Berlin. "Why would you do that?! Why?! Look what it's done to me!"
"And you!" He suddenly aimed the gun back at Red, sobbing. "You ruined my life! Look what you've done to me!"
"Donald, I didn't do this to you..." Red said quietly, but was interrupted as Ressler screamed at him again.
"Yes you did! I got shot protecting you! That's what got me on the damn pills!" It all made perfect sense to Ressler now.
And as another cramp shot through his middle and he almost doubled over, he righted himself and screamed at Red. "And you're stopping me getting to them now!"
"Donald...give me the gun..." Red took a step forward, holding out his hand.
"No!"
He moved it off Red though, and back to Berlin. "You didn't answer me! I need to know why!" Tears streamed down his face as he demanded the German tell him what he needed to know.
Red was still trying. "He didn't answer you because I motioned to him not to Donald. Your fight isn't with him. Your fight is within you, my friend."
"Shut up, Red! He can answer me!" he flung, before facing Berlin again.
"Tell me why, or I swear I'll shoot you right now!" And he aimed the gun squarely at Berlin again.
"Tell me!" he repeated.
And in the midst of his pain, with tears streaming down his face, he didn't notice the glance from Red that was suddenly focused behind him. All he saw was Berlin sitting calmly in his sights. He didn't focus on anything else.
Until a voice spoke in his ear from behind him. "Ress...don't do this. I'm here."
It was Liz.
Ressler thought he was hallucinating. Liz wasn't here. We're in the middle of the ocean. Liz isn't here!
Except she was, approaching him from the side now. He saw her and glanced sideways at her. Liz!
"Liz! Berlin... he did this!" He needed to tell her.
"No, he didn't, Ress...give me the gun..." She was crying now, seeing her partner in this state.
"Liz! No! Berlin did this!" he sobbed, trying to get her to understand.
"Give me the gun, Ress..." she told him gently, very close to him now.
"Careful Lizzie, he's shaking so bad it could go off if you take it from him..." Red warned her, inching closer to Ressler from the other side.
"I'll help you okay? We'll put the gun down together," Liz told him softly, tears streaming down her face as she looked closely into Ressler's wild, dilated eyes.
"Liz... he did this..." But the fight had left him and exhaustion was taking over.
"I'll help you put the gun down, Ress...come on... together..." she told him gently, leaning on his shoulder, close against him.
He looked at her, blinded by his tears as she held his arm. She could feel him shaking uncontrollably under her and knelt down now, guiding him. He dropped also on his shaking legs and with her looking in his eyes, with her holding his arm and right beside him, he nodded.
And put the gun on the floor.
###
Red was there in an instant to retrieve it and flip the safety on. With a deeply worried look at Ressler and a grateful smile at Liz, he turned back to Berlin. "Come with me." And he steered Berlin and his men away from Ressler and Liz.
Ressler wasn't even aware Red and Berlin had left the room.
I'm sorry...Liz!
As they kneeled on the floor together he reached for her, his shaking body melding into hers as his trembling arms gripped her tight. Her arms were around him in seconds, leaning into him, holding him close as they sobbed together.
"I'm sorry... Liz... I'm sorry..." Was all he could repeat. He couldn't tell her HOW sorry he was.
"I know, I know you are...it's okay, I'm here..." Was all she could find to say. It was what he needed to hear.
Dembe had finally explained what was going on before they coasted silently into the yacht in the dark, having cut their motor a little way off. When they had pulled in, he had helped her on board and they had both looked up sharply as they'd heard Ressler screaming. Quickly directing her to where she needed to go to reach Ressler, she had come in behind him, unseen.
And what she had seen when she had come up softly behind her screaming, sobbing partner had broken her heart. And she had looked at Red in horror and silent understanding for why he'd needed her to be here.
And as soon as she had stood beside her partner, he had listened to her and reached out to her.
Only to her.
Just like Red knew he would.