As Red walked away with Berlin with his two henchmen in tow, he stole a look back at Liz and Ressler. The two of them were so close together they were almost one, crouching together on the floor. And as he glanced at them, he saw the moment for which he'd had Lizzie come.
The moment that Donald reached for Lizzie, letting his guard down completely.
And Red turned away then, leaving them in private.
He'd been right getting her here, of course. This 'fix' was ultimately much easier than what he'd gone through after the whole Mako Tanida fiasco. He'd had to work hard behind the scenes that week with Harold and Harold's superiors to keep Ressler employed. Not that any of them would have even been aware that strings were being silently pulled. He had ensured that Donald stayed right where he was - not only in the task force, but in the FBI. Donald never knew how close he came to being unemployed after THAT mess. Nor would Red ever tell the man. That's not how he did business.
He left the lounge area now, stepping out onto the wooden observation deck and into the warm night air. The underwater lights of the round Jacuzzi in the middle of the deck gave off a soft blue glow as he turned and faced Berlin.
"I trust this unfortunate incident hasn't changed our plans in any way," said Red smoothly, with no hint of what he had felt as he'd watched Ressler crumble mere moments ago.
Berlin shrugged, and glanced back to the lounge area. "No harm done. Though your puppy is now sick as a dog," he said, chuckling lightly at his own joke. "I think he has too much of a 'good time' in his system - or not enough anymore, no?"
Red didn't find that amusing. Not in the slightest.
He faced Berlin squarely. "Listen to me. This is not something you will ever mention again. Nor will you ever consider using this against Agent Ressler in any way, as leverage of ANY kind. And if you EVER use it against Agent Ressler, I promise you that I will personally set about destroying your business piece by piece. I believe you're intimately familiar with the concept of something being destroyed piece by piece."
Berlin looked at Red for a moment, and then gave Red a slight smile. "I see Liz Keen is not the only weakness you have." He nodded then, in a gentleman's handshake. "But fair enough. I agree."
He looked beyond Red then out to the ocean, seeing lights approaching from the darkness. "And right on time. I believe my ride is here."
Red turned and saw the lights across the water as Berlin's people came to pick him up. The boat that had brought Liz was now anchored a little way off the starboard side. He had quickly had Dembe inform the boat operator to move it away for now. He couldn't risk giving Donald any chance of using it and taking off. Not now. Not at this critical stage of his detox.
"I will take my leave of you now after a most… interesting… afternoon and evening. I will be in touch," said Berlin, nodding his farewell. He took a couple of steps, then turned back to face Red.
"Family, in any shape or form is always our downfall." It wasn't a threat. It was an observation and said without malice. And without waiting for a reply, Berlin headed for the spiral staircase to reach the lower deck where his boat was coming in to moor.
Dembe stood silently behind Red, watching Berlin leave. He knew his boss was just biding his time. He knew where his heart lay at this moment - just as Berlin had implied. And sure enough, the second Berlin was on his boat after disappearing inside it without a backward glance, Reddington turned and headed back toward the two FBI agents.
Dembe smiled and in his usual place, walked a few steps behind to do whatever his boss required of him.
###
As Ressler had gasped for air through his tears and sunk to the floor with Liz, he wasn't sure if he was passing out or just too exhausted to function anymore. Crouching on the floor after putting the gun down, the only thing he had left were tears. He'd felt this hopeless and broken before after Audrey… in the snow. But his body had been functioning then, not abandoning and betraying him in withdrawal agony. Liz had been there for him then too. But not like this. This was… different. This was…deeper. She was right here beside him, soft and encouraging. Even through her own tears, she was strong where he couldn't be. Unable to hold himself up physically or emotionally any longer, he leaned into her, sought her out, desperate to bury himself in her strength. Desperate to let someone else take over for a little while. Letting his guard down in a way he never had with anyone, not even Audrey, he clutched her tightly and sobbed into her.
Exhaustion settled over him within minutes, his body simply too tired to shake, cramp or even cry any more. Sleep or unconsciousness was the only option left. His remaining strength fleeing, he leaned on Liz, his arms rapidly losing their grip around her now. Liz felt the change in him as his arms went slack around her, and moved slightly back from him to look at him. Leaning against her with eyes closed, he was silent, pale and still. She was about to call out to Red in fear, her arms supporting her partner, when Red and Dembe came back into the room.
"Red!" she cried out to him through her tears, her voice hitching as he leaned down to Ressler. She had known something hadn't been right with her partner for weeks. In Warsaw, she'd been angry at him for not being on his game. But this... this was unexpected. This was... She couldn't even find the right words to imagine what this was. She needed to talk to Red. Needed to find out what the hell had gone on that led Ressler to this point. But right now, her partners' immediate needs were her priority.
Red glanced at Dembe and both of them reached down to Ressler and hauled him up between them before dropping him gently to the couch. As Liz placed a couch pillow under his head, Ressler was out before she even covered him with his suit jacket that was on the couch nearby. He wasn't so much asleep as on the brink of unconsciousness.
Liz knelt on the floor beside the couch, leaning over him, studying him. This was not the same man who had left her side approximately 10 hours ago, dubious about going sailing, but still striding confidently behind Red as they'd left. Now he was a complete mess. Hair unkempt, face covered in sweat and tears, red rimmed eyes clearly visible under his closed eyes, complete with dark circles under them. Dressed in shorts and a shirt that weren't his, bare legged and shoeless, he didn't even look like himself.
Red handed her a damp cloth now and as she gently wiped Ressler's pallid face he didn't move at all under her touch. She looked up at Red who was standing behind the couch, leaning on it and looking quietly and thoughtfully down at the two of them.
"What happened to him? Was it Berlin? Did Berlin do this to him?!" Liz asked Red, regaining her composure now. Dembe appeared at her side with a blanket and after removing Ressler's suit jacket, she placed it over him. Red still hadn't answered her.
"Red?" Liz asked him, and he appeared to shake himself then looked directly at her. "Yes and no. Berlin had a hand in this - no pun intended - but he didn't cause this outright." He stood up now and came beside her. Reaching his hand down to help her up off the floor, she declined it, choosing to remain on the floor and sit right beside Ressler. He smiled and nodded, then sat down on the other couch near her.
Liz hardly took her eyes off her sleeping/unconscious partner as Red spoke to her. "Lizzie, as much as I'd like to tell you what happened here tonight, I'm afraid this is something Donald needs to tell you himself. It will help him far more if he is the one to tell you. And I think we want to help him as much as we can, correct?"
Liz didn't even answer that. The answer was obvious.
###
Three hours later, Ressler opened his eyes. The lights in the room were dim and he couldn't for the life of him think where he was. His body hurt, surrounded in muscles that ached and quivered intolerably as a low tremble ran through him. Moving his head slightly, ignoring the pain that inflicted, he saw someone leaning their head on the couch beside him.
Liz...?
Oh my God! He remembered where he was and what had happened. It was all a blur, but he remembered the highlights. Or the lowlights, more to the point.
Berlin! I held a gun on him and... Went ballistic.
And then Liz was here... And she... and I... Oh God.
Turning more to his side now, his muscles screaming as he moved, he adjusted position and lay on his left side, looking at her sleeping beside him. She lay on her elbow, her hair half back and half hanging over her face. She was here. Red had got her here, more to the point. Why?
You know why.
Feeling his movement, she stirred, moved her head a little and was looking right at him as she opened her eyes. For a moment, they just held each others eyes. And for that moment, all those glances in the office, the ones shared and the ones he'd snuck in when he didn't even understand WHY he looked at her, made sense.
But then he faltered. She should never have had to come out here like this, because of me.
She saw instantly the moment he doubted, the moment he began to retreat and shook her head and spoke softly to him in the semi lit room. "No, don't go back there. Ress, talk to me."
And I need to... I will Liz, but I... I need to get out of here!
His heart rate was rising and with it, his muscles wanted to cramp again. When he tried to speak, he found his voice raspy and dry. "I...Liz..." He needed to move. He couldn't lay there a moment longer as his muscles quivered, ready to cramp at any second.
"...cramp..." he managed to get out, and then his calf muscles locked up completely under the blanket.
"Where?" she asked him hurriedly, climbing to her feet.
"Calves!" he grit his teeth, laying on his back again now as she moved the blanket up and pushed his feet up toward him, stretching his calf muscles out. As his muscles unlocked and his breathing steadied, she covered his lower legs with the blanket again.
"I... need to walk. Need... to get up." he panted, and she helped him sit up then. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, she held onto his arm and he looked sideways at her. Liz I... I need... I'm sorry... I know I... The thoughts ran through his head, but he couldn't say a word to her - couldn't form a coherent word right now. All he could do was move.
So he began to walk slowly to keep his muscles moving, restarting his laps. She kept her arm looped in his and walked with him. He didn't stop her. He leaned into her when he needed to as his stomach cramped and kept walking, continuing slow laps around the room. She didn't ask why he needed to walk. His quivering body told her why - there was NO way he could keep still.
After the first lap, he picked up the speed and by the second lap he was walking briskly again just as he'd been earlier. The difference was, this time he wasn't doing his laps alone. This time, Liz held onto his arm while he walked, keeping pace with him.
Supporting him, physically and emotionally.
###
She could feel him faltering as he walked now. He was staggering more and she knew he needed to stop. "Ress, take a break," she encouraged, but he shook his head quickly.
"No. Can't stop." And he pushed on, forcing his muscles to keep flexing. His heart rate was rising. I need to get off this boat!
"We need to take a break," she told him again, trying to slow him. He kept up the pace, turning from the cockpit into the living area now.
"Liz! No!" Panic had found him again. And it was reaching out its cold fingers into his heart.
I have to get out of here!
She looked up at him sharply. Something in the way he'd said her name got her attention. He looked flushed, his eyes darting wildly. She stopped walking and held his arm forcing him to stop.
"Ress! Talk to me," she told him firmly, needing him to focus.
Can't! Liz! Help me!
"Liz!" He looked around wildly now. "I need to get out of here!"
She reached for him and felt him shaking hard now. Trying to hold him steady, she looked into his eyes. "Focus. Look at me!" But he couldn't concentrate on her. His breath was heaving in his chest now.
"I need to get off this boat!" He broke free from her grasp and lunged for the cockpit, heading down the stairs to the front deck. He needed fresh air. Even sea air.
Can't breathe!
She followed him, very concerned he'd do something stupid like jump overboard. "Ressler!" She tried to get his attention, but he was pacing around the deck from side to side now, his chest heaving as he took great gulps of air.
"No! Gotta get out of here!" he spun around to her. "Liz! Get me out of here! Please!" he begged her, tears running down his cheeks now.
Her heart broke for him. This wasn't him. All she knew was the little Dembe had told her, that Ressler had been on some pills and was unable to get to them right now and not doing so good. Understatement. She ran to her partner now, holding his arms, forcing him to look at her.
"Ressler! Look at me! NOW." She held his arm with one hand and cupped his wet cheek in her other hand, trying to get him to look at her.
"LIZ!" He screamed at her now. "Get me out of here! NOW!" He couldn't stay here. Not out here on this dark water. Not on this boat that was bobbing in the middle of nowhere.
I can't breathe! Liz!
"Look at me," she ordered him and suddenly his eyes met hers. "Look at me. And breathe in. Steady." He looked at her, unable to breathe in, but now unable to drag his eyes from hers. She used that.
"Look at me. You are safe. We are safe here," she told him steadily as he panted and cried in front of her. His hands flew to her then, gripping her forearms, holding her in front of him.
"Liz!" He held her eyes, as he gripped her arms. "I need to...!" he implored her with his eyes.
"Can't breathe..." he panted and now she placed one hand on his chest, leaning close to him, with her hand on his heaving chest. "Look at my hand Ress. Look at it. Slow my hand down now. Make it move slower."
He looked at her hand, saw it rising and falling quickly on his chest. Slow it down. Slow her hand down! And he concentrated, looking only at her hand. Her small hand, rising and falling rapidly on his chest. Slow it down! He gazed at her hand, trying to catch his breath. Slowly making his breathing change so her hand did not rise and fall so quickly. And concentrating on her hand, he slowed it down, until it was rising and falling at a steadier pace.
She watched him, keeping silent now, letting him concentrate on slowing her hand down. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest beneath her hand, but his breathing was slowing.
"Liz..." he whispered, and placed his bruised right hand over her small hand now, trapping her hand against his chest. He had successfully slowed down the movement and he kept looking at it under his large hand.
He looked down at her now, lifting his gaze from her hand on his chest, breathing steadier, though still trembling. He couldn't do anything about the trembling, not until his muscles and nerves were done looking for their next dose.
"There we go..." she said softly. He just looked at her, quivering, but calm now.
As the panic subsided, exhaustion took its place. But the exhaustion was more than creeping in. It was hitting him over the head loud and clear. He couldn't keep up this pace much longer.
"Sleep..." he whispered and moved then, dropping her hand from his chest but holding it in his hand. And keeping hold of her hand, he led her up the stairs to the cockpit, and through the living area. She had thought he would stop at the couch but he didn't. Picking up the blanket, he led her downstairs and she saw the bedroom level for the first time. A couple of doors were closed, to the rooms she assumed Red and Dembe were sleeping in.
Ressler walked silently and unsteadily to the master suite at the end of the hallway, still holding her hand as she kept pace with him. Entering the large room, she marveled at how beautiful this yacht was. He gently released her hand now and made his way to the recliner, throwing the blanket on it before retrieving his pillow from the bed. He motioned to the side of the bed he hadn't slept in, so tired he could barely stand now. So tired he couldn't even form a single word.
There was nothing intimate in what he was doing. He just needed her close. He needed her here with him. And he knew she understood that without him needing to explain it.
He dropped to the recliner then and wrapped the blanket around him as he lay back in sheer exhaustion. She stood by him and placed her hand on his chest again. And unable to keep his eyes open any longer he drifted off to sleep almost immediately, feeling her hand on his chest.
Liz...
She gently removed her hand once he was out, kicked off her shoes and jacket and climbed into the bed. Looking across at him sleeping, she did understand. The one thing Ressler needed more than anything in the world right now was support from his best friend.
And your best friend is here, Ress, she thought, before lying down. Unable to fall asleep, she lay and watched him. He was so exhausted he barely moved. Tears welled up in her eyes suddenly, seeing what his life had reduced him to. He hadn't told her yet, but she knew enough to know this had been brought about through great loss, starting the day Audrey had died in his arms.
And tears fell, as she cried softly for her heart broken Boy Scout.