Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.

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Chapter 6

Tom and her were in bed, laying around. He was on top of her with his body, kissing her, touching her.

He ran his hand slowly down her shoulder, finding one of her breasts, which he cupped through the fabric of her shirt. With a deep moan, Liz broke the kiss, her body heaving into him.

"Escape artist," she heard herself whisper, her voice strange in tone. It was deeper, huskier with arousal.

He bent his head, his lips moving against her throat. Another deep sigh escaped her.

"Hmm?"

"Escape artist, Tom," she repeated breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling as his lips kept exploring her skin. "Did you know that Siberian Huskies are called escape artists because of their talent for escaping?"

It seemed she had said the wrong thing; She had gone and put her foot into it. Frankly, she didn't even know why such a fact occurred to her, especially right in the moment, where they were getting down to having sex in their bed.

"Are you serious?" A tight, bitter laugh escaped him. "Are you being serious right now, Liz? You're talking about that damn dog again? Right now?"

He was annoyed and she could sense that. She placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing up and down, soothing him. "I... I'm sorry," she laughed in embarrassment. "I don't even know where the thought came from or... or why it's even running through my mind right now?"

"You don't know?" He looked at her, his eyes searching her face, doubt in them. "You don't think you're even just a little bit obsessed with that dog, Liz?"

"Obsessed?" Her brows furrowed. She could tell her attempts to sooth him weren't working. "I... I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am a little obsessed with that dog?"

She was too busy staring up at him that it took her a moment longer to notice the bedroom door had spilled open as a shadow slipped into the room. A low, unpleasant rumbling noise suddenly filled the room, then a guttural snarl. It sounded like a running engine, yet it was louder; More louder and menacing.

Tom fell onto his side, turning away from her to glance at whatever was making the noise near the door. Liz watched his face, noticing it go ashen, his eyes widening with fear.

"Babe, what is it?" she asked nervously. "What... what's making that weird noise?"

"Goddamn it, Liz," Tom spat out, his voice lifting in anger as he threw the sheets off himself, about to rise from the bed. "What did I tell you? I told you I didn't want that damn dog in the house, only you didn't listen, did you?" He was angry in a way she hadn't seen nor experienced from him before; His face went red, a vein in his throat twitching. "Why are you so stupid? I told you-"

He never got to finish his sentence.

In a fast blur that Liz didn't see coming, a dog suddenly leaped at Tom with a feral snarl. They went down together, Tom falling back against the pillows, struggling as Raymond's teeth fastened around his throat. Oh, God, the dog was Raymond. It was Raymond. Tom was shrieking in pain, his arms flailing as he tried to hit Raymond, to get him off. Only it was too late. Something red and warm splashed into Liz's face as with one last growl, Raymond yanked with his teeth, Tom's throat tearing off. Tom was gurgling helplessly, staring openly up at the ceiling, unseeing.

Liz screamed, falling back off the bed, scrambling to her feet to help. She was screaming, crying.

"Raymond, stop! Why did you have to do that?" When Raymond retreated off the bed, his muzzle streaked with blood, she climbed back onto the bed, hovering over Tom. "Tom? Babe? Say something!"

She held his face gently between her hands, horrified at how ice-cold and stiff his skin felt.

"Babe?" she croaked out through tears, shaking him. There was a big gash missing out of his throat. Blood... blood everywhere. "Babe, please don't be dead! Tom?"

When she glanced over at Raymond, he was still there, watching her. The blood had turned his jaw red.

"You're a monster," she heard herself scream before she could stop herself. The dog flinched back at the hate and anger in her voice. "Do you hear that, Raymond? Tom was right! You are a feral monster!"

The room seemed to sway and shake and, suddenly, Raymond the dog was no longer standing there. Instead, in his place, was the man from the park. The strange man.

Red.

Just like Raymond the dog, he had blood on his face. Smears of it around his mouth, his chin. He was wearing a black fedora and a white suit. The suit had splatters of blood all over it.

He reminded her of Raymond, but... human.

When he started strolling closer to look at Tom's dead body, Liz scrambled back again, holding her body against the headboard, pulling her knees up into her chest, her arms covering her face protectively as she shook. She caught between her arms him scrutinize Tom's body, evaluating the gash in his throat with little more than hatred. There was no remorse there, no... anything. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head, tutting his tongue.

Then, he spoke, his voice a low, cold rumble, "I told you to stay away from Lizzie, Tom."

Liz jerked awake, tears sliding down her face, fear making it impossible for her to breathe. She sat up slowly, her heart soaring in relief when she heard Tom snoring beside her in bed. When she reached out with her fingers to touch him, she closed her eyes in relief at the warmth of his skin. He was alive. It was just a dream, a terrible one. It wasn't real.

Raymond hadn't truly killed Tom. It wasn't real.

What a horrible dream.

Yet, she felt confused about the man randomly entering her dream, the one from the park. Red.

Why did Raymond turn into Red, the man? Or was it just their disturbing conversation a few days ago that was still playing on her mind? It was probably the only reason why she dreamed of him. After all, dogs couldn't turn into humans and Tom wasn't dead. It was just a mere dream. Dreams often didn't need to make any sort of logical sense anyway.

Tom was away at a teaching conference in Boston for the weekend, so Liz had the weekend to herself. She was looking forward to having a quiet and restful weekend by curling up on the sofa and reading a good book, or even watch a silly comedy. Maybe she would even have a few decadent glasses of the Pinot Noir red wine that was still chilling unopened in the fridge.

After feeding Hudson some canned food, Liz went upstairs and got undressed, slipping into her bathrobe. As she returned downstairs while tying the sash tightly around her waist, she patted Hudson who was happily chowing away on the food in his bowl like he hadn't been fed for days before opening the fridge. She yanked the cork out on the Pinot Noir, pouring in a decent amount that was definitely more than a standard drink into her wine glass.

As she carried the wine glass into the living room to settle down and make herself at home on the couch, sipping it, that was when she heard a strange noise coming from the front door. She placed the wine glass on the table, listening cautiously.

It seemed like a faint scratching noise. Something or someone was scratching the paint off on the front door.

"What on earth?" she muttered under her breath in confusion, tightening the sash on her robe tighter as she went to open the front door.

She unlocked the door, inhaling in deeply to prepare herself, yet when she cranked the door open an inch and peered outside into the street, she couldn't see anyone standing there on the steps.

She got the fright of her life when suddenly a bark came from lower than she had looked, and when Liz glanced down quickly, the breath hitched in her throat when she realized it was none other than Raymond himself that had been scratching on her door.

"Raymond, what are you doing here at this time of the night?"

Liz wasn't shocked that Raymond had seemed to remember the exact route to where the apartment was that she had lived in; He had followed her home just the day before, ignoring her when she had tried to tell him to go back to the park and wait for his owner Dembe to arrive.

In a tricky maneuver, she managed to slip out the door, blocking the way inside. What she was unprepared for, was Raymond jumping up on her.

She almost toppled over under his heavy weight when suddenly he sprang up, resting both front paws on her shoulders as he moved his head to lick around her chest, little whining huffing noises of excitement leaving him as his bushy tail beat back and forth. He had to have weighed over seventy pounds or more, and he very nearly bowled her over.

Lifting her hand, she stroked the space between his ears with her fingers, watching his eyes slit closed in enjoyment at her petting.

By the time she had managed to get him back down on all fours and off of her, white fur had shed off his coat onto her bathrobe.

"Why are you here at this hour, hmm?" she asked in concern. "Does your daddy Dembe let you out to wander around even at around nine-thirty at night? Does he really think that's safe?"

She still couldn't get over the terrifying dream she had of him. It just could never be true. Raymond, with how cute and fluffy he was... surely he couldn't be capable of doing such a thing like killing her boyfriend, could he?

In a move she didn't see coming, Raymond used all his weight to barricade straight past her, hurtling his way inside through the front door.

"Raymond, no," she called out in disapproval, but by the time she got back inside, the dog had vanished into the living room, his claws clicking on the wooden floorboards. "You're not allowed in the house!"

Tom was going to kill her, if he ever found out that Raymond had been let inside the house. He had made it clear he didn't like Raymond, particularly after how aggressive he had become towards him when they met for the first time several days ago.

She also found herself worried that he might attack Hudson or act in a threatening way towards their other dog, yet when she glanced into the kitchen nervously, Raymond was nowhere to be found and Hudson was still as he was, near his bowl of canned dog food.

To her horror, as she rushed into the living room, surely enough Raymond was in there.

Due to his height, his head and the half of his body reached over the coffee table easily. He was making strange slurping noise, his head bowed and his ears twitching, and as she got closer into the room, she placed her hands on her hips with a sigh of displeasure when it occurred to her just what he was getting up to.

Her wine. Raymond was drinking her wine, of all things. And, judging by the looks of him, he was enjoying it. A low growl left him as he shoved half of his muzzle into the glass, his tongue lapping up the wine like it was water from a doggy bowl.

"Bad boy, no," she said in the most menacing voice she could muster. All Raymond did was pull his nose out of the glass, licking his chops as he tilted his head at her. "That was very bad of you, Raymond. You're not allowed to drink wine. Wine is allowed for humans, not dogs!"

It didn't deter him from drinking it, however.

Her eyes widened in outrage when Raymond shoved his muzzle back into the glass again, resuming his drinking of the wine. He lifted his head out from it to glance at her again, like he was almost tempting her to punish him.

"You're gonna get sick," she warned him sternly. "Dogs can get very sick from drinking wine."

When he ignored her, padding closer to the opposite side of the coffee table to start lapping it in again, Liz had to draw the line there. She strode forward, reaching down to grab the glass off the table and hold it away from him. Fortunately for her, Raymond didn't show his unhappiness by nipping her. He simply stepped back a few paces and made a sad whining noise.

"Very naughty boy," she said, pointing her forefinger at him disapprovingly. "If you're hungry or thirsty, I will gladly give you some water or a can of dog food. But drinking my wine? Very unacceptable of you."

She wasn't entirely sure if Raymond understood what she was telling him or not, but she hoped he could understand at least some of it and her reasons why. She couldn't believe Raymond had actually liked the taste of the Pinot Noir.

Usually she thought that since alcohol could potentially kill a dog or make them sick if they ever drank it, that it would naturally act as a deterrent to them from drinking it. Apparently not, in Raymond's case.

Since when did dogs like wine?

"I'm gonna be in so much trouble if Tom finds out I'm letting you in here," she explained to him. "I'll let you stay the night if you want, only because Tom's away. But if you and Hudson start fighting or if you both start peeing on the floor as a way to mark your territory, then the deals off, okay?"

Raymond sniffed the air, and she wondered if he could smell the other dog in the house.

"You want to meet our other boy Hudson?" she asked uncertainly. "If you both get on well, he might let you share some of his dog food in his bowl?" She patted her leg, beckoning him to follow her into the kitchen.

When he did, a low growl left him as he became aware of Hudson's presence in the house.

Now Liz was worried they were going to start fighting with each other, yet Hudson only paused from eating to look at the other dog.

She watched nervously as Raymond padded closer, and the both of them sniffed each other for a few seconds. When Hudson went to sniff Raymond's behind, Raymond darted back with a growl of warning. He clearly was not comfortable with Hudson scenting him out.

Hudson was so much smaller compared to Raymond, she observed. Raymond was strong and agile, and fairly tall with a heavy grey and white coat, while Hudson was smaller-legged and his sandy colored fur was curly and short.

Much to her relief, after sniffing each other out, they seemed fine with each other. Hudson returned to eating, while Raymond stepped closer to sit beside him. He lowered his head near the ground, curiously sniffing the contents in Hudson's bowl. Then, much to Liz's shock, he turned his back on the food Hudson was greedily scarfing down. He raised his head to give Liz a long look with his luminescent greyish-green eyes.

While she had no idea what Siberian Huskies diets usually consisted of, it was obvious Raymond didn't go much on either the smell or the look of Hudson's canned food.

"You don't like the dog food Hudson is eating then?" she asked in confusion. "You don't want to share?"

She tipped out the rest of the wine into the sink, rinsing it under the tap. She had no idea what to do, about what to give Raymond to eat instead. What did Siberian Huskies usually eat, if not dog food?

Liz opened the fridge, glancing inside. There wasn't much to choose from that she felt was suitable for a dog. There was the Chinese take-out leftovers her and Tom hadn't managed to eat from a couple of days ago, but could Raymond eat that?

"We have leftover Chinese?" she suggested, turning to peer at the dog. He was watching her, his head cocked to the side. "You like Chinese by any chance? Can you even eat that?"

Raymond barked twice; The first time Liz thought she had actually ever heard him bark. She took that as a confirmation.

"Okay then, Raymond. You can eat the leftover Chinese. I think it should be safe?"

When she found a plastic bowl, she spilled all the contents into it. It was beef and black bean. It wasn't spicy so she figured Raymond should be fine.

When she placed the bowl on the floor, he rushed forward, sniffing it once before scarfing it down almost immediately. She wondered if Dembe hadn't been feeding him very often; He was eating so quickly, like he hadn't eaten anything all day.

He actually liked Chinese food. And, apparently, Pinot Noir.

"You have very refined taste for a dog, don't you?" she murmured in shock. Hearing her voice, Raymond stopped eating to look back at her, licking his chops. "I didn't know dogs could actually be into red wine and Chinese food? Hudson certainly isn't, or is it just a... a breed thing?"

He started eating again, but slower this time, like he was pacing himself.

"Or is it how Daddy Dembe feeds you? He doesn't give you the regular canned dog food?"

Since both dogs seemed happily distracted with eating, she decided to go take a shower. She walked back out of the kitchen, re-locking the front door because she couldn't remember doing so. After heading upstairs and having a shower, she dried herself off with a towel, opening the bathroom door to let the steam out.

She was startled to find Raymond sitting and waiting by the bathroom door, his head resting on his front legs. He blinked slowly several times as he glanced up at her when he heard the door open.

"I had a shower, that's what people do to get clean," she explained, when he just stared at her, seemingly in a confused way. "Dogs have baths to get clean, too. They don't have showers like us humans do. I don't think you like having baths though. Half the time, whenever Tom and I go to bath Hudson, he will run and cower behind the couch. We end up having to carry him all the way upstairs in our arms. Are you the same?"

She had to admit that it was nice. It was nice to have someone to talk to while Tom was away, even if they were a dog that couldn't respond back.

She bent down to pat him while tightening the towel over herself, and he gave her fingers a lick. As she trod past him barefooted, searching in her dresser to find a pair of clean underwear, she turned and saw he had raised his head, watching her with what appeared to her as great attention.

"I'm getting changed," she explained, a bit unnerved that he was staring. She managed to step into her underwear, sliding it up while her towel was still wrapped around her. She put her bathrobe on the bed so she could get into it easily before he saw too much of her than what she comfortable with, even if he was just a dog. "It's what humans do too, Raymond. They wear clothes."

She turned around so she wasn't facing him as she shuffled back into her bathrobe quickly. Once she tied the sash around her waist quickly, it was only then she looked at him again.

"You're gonna have to go downstairs and sleep with Hudson, okay?" she told him. "I don't think its such a good idea if you sleep on the bed, especially with the way your fur moults the way it does. I don't think Tom would be too happy if he found out that you-"

Before Liz could even finish, in a flash, Raymond decided to leap up on the bed. He turned in a circle, sniffing the bed-sheet, then he laid down on the side of the bed where Tom usually slept.

"Hey! You can't sleep on the bed!" Raymond just looked at her when Liz clicked her fingers, pointing at the floor. "Off, Raymond! Tom's gonna find out if he notices your fur is everywhere!"

Raymond stared at her for a moment before slowly, reluctantly, standing, descending off the bed to the space on the floor that she was pointing to.

"Good boy," she said gently. She couldn't help feeling guilty when he made a little whine. "I'm sorry that I'm making you sleep on the floor, but Tom will go mad if he finds out. You're not even supposed to be in the house."

She left Raymond there as she went downstairs, double-checking that both the back and front door was locked. Then she showed Hudson to his doggy bed in the laundry, and once satisfied that he was comfortable in bed, she started turning off all the lights in the house with the exception of the living room lamp.

As she climbed the stairs to head back into the bedroom, Raymond was still where she had left him.

"Good boy," she said again quietly. She pulled back the sheets on her bed, quickly slipping out of her bathrobe. As she slid under the covers, she sighed loudly in relief at the warmth. "Goodnight, Raymond," she said as she reached over to turn off the lamp.

Barely ten seconds later, she felt the mattress depress as Raymond ended up jumping onto the bed again. It was impossible to see him in the dark, but she felt his paws trample over her as he moved to Tom's side of the bed. When he laid down, she reached out blindly with her hand to pat him.

While she was worried Tom would find out and it would start an argument, Liz couldn't deny it was sort of nice, having Raymond sleeping inside her house. She knew he was safe and that he wasn't wandering the street that way.

It was still dark when Liz heard something strange that woke her up. She sat up slowly against the headboard, still half-sleep.

The light was on in the bathroom and she thought she could hear someone going to the toilet. When she reached down to pat Raymond, her fingers found nothing but the empty sheets.

Raymond was gone.

"Tom?" she called out, her voice rough with sleep. "Have you returned early from your conference, babe? Is that you?"

No answer came.

The toilet flushed, she heard the tap in the sink running like someone was washing their hands, and then the light flicked off, blinding her and submerging her back into darkness. The mattress depressed and suddenly Raymond was there. He licked the inside of her arm before laying back down, too close, resting his head on her stomach. She shifted back down to rest her head on her pillow comfortably.

"Um. Did you-" She began in confusion, then it occurred to her how ridiculous what she was going to ask would have been.

Did Raymond the dog just use the toilet like a human, then flush it?

How could a dog learn how to use the toilet like a human, or even know how to flush it afterwards, no less? She was struggling to understand or find any coherency in the situation due to still being half-asleep.

"Wow," Liz muttered in shock, though she could feel herself slipping deeper and deeper into sleep again, "Dembe must be like the... the dog whisperer to be able to get you to learn how to use the toilet and flush afterwards like an actual human?"

Hope you enjoyed this one? Thank you so much for the alerts and follows I have received, and the kind reviews. It means a lot to me! Hoping this one was okay? Hope the dream sequence was written all right too lol?

I know its probably ridiculous and weird, but I hope you like it and don't mind it anyway.