Firstly I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. Just a fan, particularly a shipper of Lizzington.

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and encouragement! Hope you enjoy this one, though I know this story is probably way beyond weird..

Chapter Nine

The male professor in her psychology class was talking, explaining about the latest assignment they had to complete by the end of next week, though Liz was finding it difficult to pay attention. She never heard him, not really. He might as well have just been an irritating voice in the background.

She was stuck on Tom, on the pictures Raymond had given her this morning.

Even although the evidence was there, she found it difficult to accept it. Her stomach was in a tight, constant knot of nerves and dread for the minute class ended in the afternoon and she had to get home. She was dreading seeing him. She knew what would have to happen; Things had to end, between her and Tom. It was going to be incredibly difficult, as she loved him. He was the first guy she had ever thought she truly loved. Yet, she also knew where her morals and beliefs stood.

Though they hadn't properly discussed it during their one year relationship, kissing was something she equated with cheating. He had kissed another woman and there could be no going back from that. He had cheated and broken her trust.

She would have to end things with Tom tonight, but that was only one part of the problem. The other part was working out living arrangements; Would Tom keep the apartment and expect Liz to leave? Or would Tom leave, letting Liz keep all of the furniture they had brought equally? And what about their dog, Hudson? Would Tom want him or would he be fine with her keeping him?

Taking in a deep breath, she tried to focus on the lecturer standing at the front of the class near the blackboard, trying to properly take in his words. She felt a sudden, distracting dull ache in her wrist and as she pulled both hands beneath her desk, she attempted to soothe in by pulling up her sleeve, rubbing around the spot with her fingers absently.

By the time class had officially ended for another day and everyone stood to collect their belongings and tuck in their chairs while the teacher reminded them of their assignments, the ache still hadn't left, originating from her hand, up towards her forearm.

She pushed her way through the crowd, headings to female restrooms. Once she got inside, she slipped the strap of her back off her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground while she used both hands.

She folded up her sleeve carefully, switching on the cold water on the faucet in the sink as she licked her suddenly dry lips. Then she held her arm under it as much as she could, the chilly temperature giving her temporary relief from the dull ache in her bones.

It hadn't been something that had happened to her; Her arm aching unbearably. Yet when she turned her wrist inwards, looking down at her skin, she saw it was the arm that her scar was on.

Switching off the tap, she lifted her arm, beads of water rolling down towards the sleeve of her jumper, dampening it as she inspected the bite on her wrist curiously. Oddly enough, it looked different, as though during class the appearance of it had altered somehow. How that was possible, Liz had no idea. The appearance of it, the redness, usually it never bothered her.

Maybe Red was right? Maybe something was happening to her after all? Maybe she was infected?

Liz turned on the jug, making herself a cup of coffee while she waited for Tom to arrive home.

She still didn't know how she was going to say what she needed to say without getting too emotional, but she laid the crinkled envelope with the incriminating pictures on the kitchen table so that he would see them the instance he got in. Hopefully the pictures would tell Tom everything he needed to know.

By the time she heard the front door unlock as Tom got in, Liz had been sitting at the kitchen table quietly with her hands gripping her mug of steaming coffee for over fifteen minutes. She tensed automatically, a strange feeling rising in her stomach, her heart racing.

Tom seemed blissfully ignorant as he came inside the kitchen while sitting his briefcase down onto the floor. "Hey, babe," he said, grinning at her widely. "I made it home tonight."

Liz felt her stomach clench when he placed one hand on her shoulder, about to bend down to kiss her hello on the lips. Instinctively and without thought, she leaned back before he even got the chance to brush his lips against hers. There was an awkward moment where Tom just stared at her through the lenses of his heavy black rimmed glasses, his smile faltering. She found herself deeply relieved when he stood, straightening up slowly.

"Had a bad day, huh?" he said, his eyes fluttering towards the envelope still sitting on the kitchen table untouched. "Is this a letter for me?"

Before Liz could get a word out, he had stretched out a hand to already take the envelope and by then it was far too late. He pulled it open, his hand delving inside it to take the set of photographs out. Deciding it would be too much to make herself look at him, Liz deliberately kept her eyes lowered to the light brown liquid in her cup, her muscles tense.

"What's this?" he asked after a long moment of daunting silence. He sounded nothing but confused, yet at the same time, Liz had noticed how tremulous his voice had gotten, how lower in pitch it was. "Why do you have these pictures, Liz? What is this?"

"I don't know, Tom." It astounded Liz how calm she sounded, when inside, she felt anything but. Her hands weren't so steady though; As she raised the mug towards her lips to take in a quick sip, she found that her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she flexed them over the porcelain. "Why don't you tell me? What is this?"

"That's Jolene Parker. Miss Parker. She's a teacher's aid. She's the one I went out to dinner with last night." He wasn't denying it, at least. She heard the thunk against the paper of one of the photographs as Tom flicked it with his fingertip. "Why do you have these, Liz? Were you- what? You had someone follow me to take these? You had someone spying on me?"

"Not... exactly. A friend gave them to me. They thought I should see them."

Her composure was quickly leaving her, bit by bit, when Tom grabbed the kitchen chair next to her, yanking it open. The legs creaked against the floorboards as he sat, his knees touching hers. She didn't want him anywhere near her. She didn't want him touching her, not even his knees. It made her feel ill.

"And clearly you two did more than just have a nice and harmless dinner together after the conference, didn't you, Tom?" Even to Liz's ears, she sounded funny. She reminded herself of a dog, strangely enough. The words came out a low, guttural growl between clenched teeth. "The pictures have really shown me everything I need to know."

She heard Tom start to breathe heavily. When he reached out, trying to grab her hand to hold onto it, Liz automatically flung it away, pushing herself back from the table with her legs. He couldn't touch her, not now.

"What else happened?" she demanded, finally finding the courage she needed to look at him. His eyes were wide, unreleased anger blaring in them. "Did you two go to your hotel room together afterwards? Judging by the pictures and how cozy you two looked leaving the restaurant together, I'd say that's pretty damn likely."

"For the record, Liz, she came onto me, all right?" Tom's voice had risen to a piercing level, his face trembling, his cheeks red. "I don't even know how it happened. One minute, we were eating together in the restaurant, and then things got quickly personal."

A sickened feeling sliced through Liz as she forced herself to listen to his half-assed explanation, though a part of her wanted to do nothing more than to retreat, to act like a child and cover her ears as a way to not hear it, even.

"I was talking about you, Liz, about... how much I love you, about how much we wanna start a family eventually and get married." His voice was a desperate, husky rumble as he tried to explain. "Then when we got out of the restaurant, she was getting all grabby with me! I mean, what the hell was I gonna do? What could I do?"

"How about explaining to her that you're in a committed relationship and that you're leaving back to your hotel room alone, Tom?" she suggested, trying to keep her voice even. She almost broke down when Tom sighed loudly, covering his face in his hands. "And yet, you didn't, did you? You didn't because, no matter how much you claim to supposedly love me, there was a part of you that wanted her? That wanted this... Jolene Parker woman?"

He took one of the pictures off the table again, glancing at it carefully. "I still don't understand why you were having some person stalking me and spying on me to see what I was doing, Liz?" Jesus. It was as if that was all he cared about; not that he had actually hurt her by betraying her. "Don't you think that's a little... excessive?" He flung the picture back onto the table, his eyes narrowing at her with rage. "I think that tells me everything that I need to know, that you don't trust me."

"You're right, Tom," she agreed, near hysterics. "I don't trust you. And after a friend gave me those pictures of you, then... yeah, I'd say I have a good reason not to, don't I?"

She forced herself to stand, moving away so that her back was facing him. Saying it to his face would have been too hard and just by looking at him, it would have easily swayed her against it if she had to endure witnessing his reaction to it. Plus, she was already struggling not to come apart as it was.

"I want you out of the apartment, Tom," she said with effort. "You can take Hudson with you or I can keep him, I don't care. Whatever is best."

"So what? What are you saying here, Liz?"

"I'm saying that we're done here." She knew she sounded cold and heartless, but it was either that or letting him see how upset she was. "I know we hadn't properly established our limits and what we considered cheating, but kissing another woman... it's cheating to me. You broke my trust, Tom."

She heard the legs of the chair scrape against the floor from behind her, warning her that he was standing. His footsteps came nearer and, as she saw his hand move towards her from out of the corner of her eye, something within her snapped and broke. Liz had a sudden, nervous fear that he was about to attack her or do... something. In a way of defending herself, she whipped her head down, catching a few of his fingers between her teeth, biting down hard on narrow, sinewy bone.

"What the hell, Liz?" Tom cried out in hurt, and it was only then that she loosened her teeth from around him, letting his fingers go.

Shock permeated through her as she turned to glance at him desperately, apologetically. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched him helplessly. She had no idea what had just happened or why she had decided to bite him, no less. It had just happened.

Tom's face was pinched in pain as he shook his hand, inspecting it.

"God, Tom. I... I'm so sorry, I didn't-" She began, but he didn't look at her.

He cursed under his breath again heatedly and it was then she realized how much damage she had done. Droplets of dark red blood started rolling down his hand and when Liz tongued around her teeth, she tasted the metallic flavor of Tom's blood.

"Tom, I don't know what's happening to-" she began again desperately, stepping towards him, hands raised to comfort him.

He dodged her hands, walking out of the kitchen briskly, trails of blood following him.

Guilt pummeled through Liz in a terribly heavy way and to make matters worse, a searing burning pain shot through her arm. She gave her hand a sharp shake to try and ease it, but when she glanced down at her wrist again, she couldn't help noticing it.

It was impossible, but in a short amount of time, the old bite scar had seemed to grow even worse. Along with the aching and the hot throbbing sensations, it looked as if the scar was fresh again, as if it had only just happened to her this morning rather than when she had been a little girl. The teeth marks, usually faded, were now swollen and lifted from her skin in angry, red welts.

Something was happening to her. She had actually gone and bitten Tom, like some rabid, feral dog. Whatever was happening to her, it couldn't have meant anything good.

She saw him waiting for her in the park. No, not waiting for her, as that was probably no doubt a bit presumptuous of her. All Liz knew, was that it felt like he was.

She noticed first thing that he was wearing a light beige suit and a white fedora, his head bent low as he read the days addition of the newspaper; the vest and trousers similar to the one she had seen him wear in that peculiar dream she had, where Raymond the dog had turned into him.

Even now, that dream was still so baffling and frightening to her.

When she slipped onto the bench beside him, she caught him lift his head to glance into her direction, though he didn't say anything. She heard the paper give out a rustling noise as he shook it once before starting to fold it up carefully. Seeing as she didn't know what to say, Liz kept quiet also, not daring to break the silence either, while remembering in the back of her mind that she had been embarrassingly rude to him during their previous encounter which had to have been about roughly two days ago.

She thought it mainly had something to do with the photos of Tom, rather than the kooky man sitting beside her himself; Finding out Tom had cheated on her, seeing the photos of him with another woman, it had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"You've been quiet, Lizzie. I haven't seen you in over two days," he said, finally breaking the silence at last. The fact that he had been counting down the days, it disturbed her. Then again, was there anything about this man that didn't easily disturb her?

"I didn't feel like going for my usual runs in the park," she explained quietly, zipping up her jacket self-consciously when she felt the weight of his stare. "I lost my motivation for a bit."

She waited tensely for him to ask her about it, only he didn't. She was uncertain on whether to tell him her reasons why, that it was due to grieving for the end of her relationship with her boyfriend, not that it was any of his business. But talking about it to at least someone would help get it off her chest, even if it meant talking to a meddlesome, annoying man like him.

"I ended things with Tom."

She flipped her hand around, glancing down at the old, healed teeth marks on her wrist, mainly because the idea of looking at him while she admitted to it seemed intolerable. It hadn't seemed to get any better, her old bite wound. The past few days it still had felt inflamed and sore.

"We're done. I told him I couldn't be with him. He left the apartment and he took our dog with him."

She knew it was exactly what he was waiting to hear, and when she mustered enough courage to glance in his direction, she thought he almost seemed silently pleased as he peered at something far off into the distance.

It seemed to take him a few minutes to find his voice. "Though it may seem callous of me to say so, you did good, Lizzie." It was as if he believed she would feel better with him praising her. "Trying to sustain a marriage or a relationship during such a crucial time, it's... next to impossible."

She wasn't entirely sure what 'crucial time' he was speaking of, but she clenched her teeth, refraining from asking anything. He hardly ever gave her a proper explanation lately when she had sought one anyway.

"I think the main thing was that he betrayed me. In those photos, how he kissed that woman. Commitment and loyalty is a big thing for me." She drew in a deep breath, shaking her head. "Even if I could have forgiven him, things would never have been able to be the same. I wouldn't be able to look past it. All I would be able to see is her kissing him, and him kissing her. It just never would have worked anymore."

Again, he didn't respond as she looked his way again. She watched as his eyes moved at something, and when she followed the direction of them, she saw a man walking past with his dog on a leash.

Just like that, she remembered biting Tom's fingers again; guilt and shame flooding through her. She had been wondering excessively for the past two days on what it all meant, and just why on earth she had done that to him.

"Something's happening to me," she managed in a horrifyingly nervous and vulnerable voice, glancing down at her wrist again. She was ashamed of how terrified she sounded, how lost. "When Tom and I were arguing and I told him we were finished, I... I bit him."

She threw a look his way again. Finally, he shifted slightly on the bench to meet her gaze, his eyebrows lifting, as if in surprise.

"I actually bit him. I don't know what happened exactly or just... why I did it. I just snapped out of nowhere and it... it happened." She inhaled sharply through her teeth, peering down at her wrist again. "And then, there's this." She lifted her arm in the air a fraction, motioning to it. "For some reason, it's been aching a lot lately. It was healed over completely before, yet now... it's like its opened up again and I don't know why."

She saw Red glance away from her quickly, as if he felt that looking at her was suddenly unbearable. She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he nodded once. "So it's beginning," he simply said in acknowledgement, his voice grave.

"Beginning? What's beginning? What's going on with me?"

"Have you been feeling hungrier than usual lately?" he asked, ignoring her. He crossed a leg over the other, leaning slowly towards her as he turned his head back to her. "Have you been experiencing pesky hunger pangs that cease to subside?"

Liz had to think it over carefully for a second. "Yes," she admitted hesitantly, her chest lifting. "Lately, my appetite has been erratic. I've been... eating a lot more than usual."

"And nothing seems to ever satiate it?" It was as if he knew exactly what she was going through. "No matter how much you eat, the... feeling never dissipates? The hunger?"

"Yeah, that's right."

He nodded again, his expression contemplative. "Then it is beginning. Is there anywhere you need to be today?" His eyes moved back and forth between hers intensely as he gave her a tight-lipped, small smile.

"Class," she admitted cautiously. She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his lips for some bizarre reason. "I have psychology class in two hours. Why?"

"You are going to need to call them, Lizzie." He sounded so sure, so confident, again like he knew something she didn't. "Something tells me you won't be able to make it to your class today. And even if you could, I daresay you wouldn't want to."

Red stood abruptly, straightening out his vest while he disposed of the newspaper into the bin next to them. Liz's eyes were still on him questioningly when he moved in front of where she was sitting, holding out an arm to her in offer, his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows.

As Liz brought herself to stand up slowly from the bench, it occurred to her how strange she felt. She had felt fine before sitting next to him, but now, she felt weak, particularly in her joints.

Sweat broke out under her jacket as a hot flush suddenly sprung up on her and as she stepped forward to take his arm, her legs gave out frighteningly without warning. The last thing she noticed was Red catching her with two strong arms around her waist, supporting her up, before her vision went black.

When Liz awoke and came to, she heard two voices around her.

Unfamiliar voices that she didn't recognize. Or so she thought, at first. One, she did end up recognizing, however, and that voice belonged to Red. She was surrounded by people; Red. A woman whose voice she did not recognize. Their voices were low, muffled.

"Everything is ready and in order, Dearie," the woman said. "Shouldn't take too long now." The woman sounded older, about in her mid-sixties or seventies by her voice alone.

"Thank you, Kate. If there is someone I can rely on above all else, I know its always you." Red's affectionate, throaty rumbling voice, as if he was speaking from in the lower depths of his chest.

When Liz tried to open her eyes, at first, it took tremendous effort. Her lids wouldn't seem to open easily. The lids felt hot and swollen. Her throat was aching, as if she was burning up with a rapid throat infection. It stung when she had to swallow compulsively. In fact, there wasn't a place on her that didn't seem to be aching right now. Her cranium was pounding furiously. Even her teeth ached.

Managing to open her eyes, she noticed the room swayed and blurred violently. Something was trickling down her cheeks, obstructing her vision as it coated her eyelids, and she didn't know what that something was, until she blinked it away, out of her eyes. She was crying and hadn't even realized it.

As the room gradually came into focus, she lifted her head, wincing against the heaviness, the pain. She found Red sitting beside her on what seemed to be a bed. A thin woman with glasses and a heavy, dramatic hairstyle was standing near the doorway, watching her. She must have been the voice she had heard.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave you both to it," the woman said awkwardly, clearing her throat. "Good luck."

Liz felt her forehead crumple as the woman retreated out of the room, closing the door shut behind her. Then Liz thought she heard a lock click into place. As her eyes surveyed the room again, panic and fear licked through her.

She wasn't in her apartment. She was in a room with minimal furniture, aside from the bed she was on and an old antique armchair across the room. The only source of light in the room was from an old styled lamp on a dresser near her.

Her arms felt stiff, heavy. When she tried to move, to touch her face, it occurred to her belatedly that she couldn't.

As she lifted her head again from the pillow beneath her, trying to peer behind her, she caught sight of the ropes. A grunt of fear escaped the base of her throat when she saw that her wrists and arms were bound to the headboard. When she glanced down at her legs, even her ankles were tied to the bedposts.

She was being restrained and as she found Red's face with wide, alarmed eyes, pain exploded behind her eyes. She let her head fall back onto the pillow, closing her eyes tight, groaning hoarsely. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks and as she reopened her eyes, focusing on Red again through her blurred vision, she saw that he was leaning down near her this time, his faces inches from hers.

"What's happening?" she asked. It came out more like a 'wasappening', as if she couldn't pronounce words properly, as if her tongue wasn't working right. She swallowed, flinching at the pain. "What's happening to me? Why am I hurting so much?"

"Sssh." She tried to jerk her head away when Red lifted a hand, touching his hand flat against her forehead, as if he was testing her temperature. Then he moved his hand, brushing her hair back from her forehead tenderly with his warm, dry fingers. Strands of her hair seemed to want to stick to her forehead like glue unpleasantly. "Calm down, Lizzie. You are going to be just fine."

She could tell with the way his voice went, so measured and gentle, that it was his attempt at soothing her. It only seemed to have the opposite effect.

"What have you done to me?" she spat out, her voice garbled and high-pitched in horror. She sounded like a screeching crow. "Why am I tied to the bed like this? What are you doing?"

Red seemed to ignore her question, glancing over at something next to her across from the bed. He squinted at it, his head tilted, "It shouldn't be long now."

"What's happening to me?" she tried again, hardly caring if he couldn't seem to understand what she was saying. "What have you done to me?"

Liz felt the throbbing in her wrist again, in her bite. She tilted her chin upwards, angling her head at an unnatural angle, wanting to check on it. Tied and restrained the way she was, it was next to impossible.

"Hospital," she croaked out desperately. "I... I need to get to a hospital. I think you were right. I am infected."

The sound of his laughter seemed to ring around the room disturbingly, and she shut her eyes tightly as it echoed around her, surrounding her. "Despite what you think, a hospital isn't truly what you need, Lizzie. Without hospital care, I can assure you that you will be quite fine in my company." He went to touch her cheek with the back of his fingers, "It's always easier with a like-minded individual there to guide you."

Growing tired of him then, Liz kicked and jerked, flailing with her body side to side violently, hoping to break free from the ropes. It was futile. She felt Red's hands close over each shoulder, pinning her down to the mattress as he drew his knees up onto the bed between her legs, and she screamed; the first time that she had been able to manage one.

"I know this may be hard on you, Lizzie, but screaming does nothing." Red's voice was strained and an octave deeper. She could hear him panting, almost like an overexcited dog.

"I don't care," she screamed, moving again in an attempt to unseat him, ignoring the searing pain raking down her throat. "Get off me! I need a hospital! What's happening?"

"What's happening is that you're changing, Lizzie. And I apologize for having to say this, but... you are powerless to stop it. While I undoubtedly sympathize with what you are going through, you'll merely have to ride it out until the transition is complete."

"No!" She used her knees, kicking, striking only his stomach. "You're crazy! I'm not changing into anything! Get off me!"

"Elizabeth, look at me," he ordered, his voice so deadly and stern that Liz had no choice but to comply. Fear laced through her as her eyes popped open to meet his, her body stilling. "If you don't believe it, then watch. Watch and learn."

Stubbornly, she shoved her head sideways, so she wasn't looking up at him. The only thing she could see currently in her peripheral, was his left hand that was clenched around her shoulder, holding her down. His forearm seemed to shrink, as well as his fingers, right before her very own eyes in length and width.

Then his arm was convulsing, so quickly, it was nothing more than a blur to her. Liz wanted to close her eyes, to look away so that she could feel anything but confused, only she found she couldn't. She became transfixed when hair started sprouting from his forearm, out of his knuckles, a grayish white.

She managed to close her eyes for one second in revulsion, then she became aware that the heaviness of his body, of his hands holding her, had become severely reduced. She forced her eyes open, peering at his hand again, at his forearm. It wasn't there. Instead of his hand, resting on top of her shoulder, was a white paw.

The breath leaving her lungs, she whipped her head forward, glancing up. Red was no longer there, pinning her down.

Raymond the dog was on her on the bed.

Hope you enjoyed this one? Its probably crazy and freaky how Liz woke up tied to a bed with Red and Mr Kaplan there, practically strangers, but I do hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. :) I'd love to know your thoughts!