A/N Red's plan comes to fruition but he is forced to make a devastating revelation. Major, major angst and a good amount of smut. Smangst. NSFW. I don't own the Blacklist but I bloody love it. I also love reviews :-)

Liz was still weak, but under the care of an ever watchful Clara her fever had subsided and her shoulder was healing well. After a week had passed she had expressed a desire to move from the electric hospital bed to a normal one, and Red was grateful that she wanted something practical that he could give her freely. At Red's instruction, Dembe had dismantled the electric bed before setting about the somewhat herculean task of resituating the carved oak four-poster that had occupied the room previously.

It was, in Red's estimation, a little ostentatious, but certainly in keeping with the house's old-world aesthetic. Liz's reaction when she saw the bed had been priceless; he recalled how she had looked at him, scandalized, an eyebrow raised as if to say 'really?' and he had merely shrugged and offered her a boyish smile. For that moment at least, he had seen a glimmer of their old dynamic and he had clung to it like oxygen in an otherwise stifling room.

And it was stifling. He needed her like air, and still she withheld it, eschewing his company for Clara's, or for an eerie solitude that he was desperate to break. Delighted as he was that day when the news came that the mission to extract her from the detention facility had been successful, it seemed to him that since her return she had felt as absent as ever, perhaps even more so. As the days went by the thought that she could heal and find freedom again without him weighed on him heavily.

What he lacked in progress with her he compensated for in abundance in work done on her behalf. He had busied himself completing his assault on the cabal, pursuing them relentlessly and shining lights in every corner in which they hid. As he had predicted, their implication of Cooper in Connolly's murder and their detention and subsequent loss of Lizzie had left them vulnerable, drawing attention to their networks within law enforcement. They were now thoroughly exposed, fire-fighting in offices, in the press, in police stations and county halls. Every day a new cabal member was exposed, and senate hearings had been convened over the last fortnight to deal with the implications of a conspiracy of this magnitude.

As he had hoped, agent Ressler had agreed that if he were to aid in the exposure of the cabal and the conspiracy against Liz and Cooper, he would make a case for an immunity deal for Liz in Connolly's murder. It would not be an easy thing to achieve; were he to succeed, she would never be able to work in law enforcement again and she would have to live under an assumed name. She would, however, have her freedom, which is what he promised her.

Under other circumstances he would have thrived on the adrenaline of a plan come to fruition, and on the hope that out of the wreckage the full truth of his own past might be revealed. However, he now found himself thinking more and more not of the past but of the future, and the inescapable truth that he was drawing nearer to the day that she would no longer need his help.

Now, he watched from the window as she walked in the garden with Dembe at her side, completing rehab much as he had been instructed to do. They had matching wounds, and a joint fare in aimless walking, he thought. Yet even as he longed to be the one to take her arm and escort her through the rose-threaded archways and winding paths of the charming cottage garden he was condemned to watching her from the shadows as he had for so much of her life.

Whilst she had improved greatly, she was still thin and weak; her long, shaky legs and large eyes put him in mind of one of the wild fawns from the Sweetwater herd as she made her way through the garden. As he observed her delicate features, pale and lovely amongst the roses, his stomach jolted when he saw her stumble before being caught by Dembe's strong and gentle arms. He saw her smile at him gratefully as he steadied her and was consumed with burning jealousy that he had not been the one on the receiving end of that smile, jealousy that gave way to an aching sadness at the thought that he may never be again.

To make matters worse, her attitude towards him seemed to be reflected in the eyes of the other occupants of the house. Dembe had said nothing on the subject of Elizabeth since their confrontation of the hospital, but Red felt disapproval and disappointment emanating from him as loudly as if he had voiced his concerns directly. Clara also was cool and brisk; she had said nothing specific, but he got the impression that she both suspected and disapproved of the nature of his feelings for Elizabeth. In short, his usually charismatic affect was dwarfed by her presence in the house. Even in her wan and quiet state she had managed to charm those around her, though consciously at least he didn't begrudge her the affection she elicited from his companions, only them her company where she bestowed it.

After her walk in the garden she retired to her room as usual, but surprised him later in the day by joining him in the sitting room. He smiled as he took in her appearance as she hovered by the door. Her hair was slightly damp and tousled from the shower, and she wore a thick, plush robe in a deep claret hue tied tightly around her slender frame. The task of buying appropriate clothes for her had been given to a trusted female assistant ahead of their flight to Sweetwater, but this robe was one of his own purchases from a luxury boutique in Venice the previous year. At the time he had told himself it would do to have on hand for any of his female companions who might require it, but in truth he had thought only of her perfect ivory skin wrapped in the luxurious dark red material. In his mind it had always been hers and therefore it had remained wrapped in tissue paper until now.

He rose from the sofa to greet her, though he remained a respectful distance from her. "Lizzie it's good to see you" he said softly. "How are you? How's the bed?" he added, the corner of his mouth curving into a playful smile.

She raised her eyebrows at him although her expression remained soft. "It's fine thank you." She paused and then rolled her eyes. "Ok, it's the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in, even if it does make me feel like a princess locked in a tower."

Red smiled at her sadly. "You are not locked in a tower, Lizzie."

"Then why does it feel that way?" she said, now serious. "Why do I feel that, however lovely this place is, I'm just living in a nicer version of the prison?"

Red flinched at her words, the tension in his face visibly increasing.

"I'm sorry" she sighed. "I know how ungrateful that sounds. I just feel so powerless."

Red nodded, his voice deep and weary. "I told you that when the time comes you will be free to make any choice you want, and you will Lizzie. You have nothing to fear from me."

She looked at him uncertainly from under thick, dark lashes, her hand moving unconsciously to her wrist to worry her scar. "I want to believe you. You don't know how much I want to believe you, Red" she said quietly. She shifted her weight to her other side and winced a little.

Seeing this, he took a step towards her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I…" She looked at him again and seemed to change her mind about what she was going to say. His face was cracked with concern; he was desperate to help her if only she'd let him. "It does hurt" she conceded.

His frown deepened. "Say the word and I can have Clara here at the drop of a hat to give you something."

Liz shook her head, her mouth set in a pinched line. "She's given me some Advil and I don't want anything else. I need to keep some control Red. I think you understand that."

He nodded tightly and then titled his head to the side, before extending his hand to her, gesturing for her to approach him. After a moment she seemed to resolve an internal battle and walked to him, allowing him to envelop her in his arms. He drew her to his chest, lost momentarily in the feel of her warmth against him, the softness of the red robe and the smell of her damp hair as she clung to him. He gently kissed the top of her head before murmuring ever-so softly "There are other ways to relieve pain, Lizzie."

He felt her tense in his arms but she didn't pull away, and so he gently turned her unresisting body around so that she was facing away from him, the back of her head resting against his shoulder. He placed gentle kisses on her neck, and melted inside when he heard a quiet moan of appreciation in her throat. Holding her round the waist with one arm, he loosened her robe and slid his other hand inside, cupping a warm breast in his hand before pinching her nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

She sighed and leant back against him and he tightened his arm around her waist, supporting her slender frame. She had lost so much weight - not surprising given what she had been through but distressing none-the-less. He daydreamed about the sumptuous meals he would cook for her, about keeping her in the lap of luxury and feeding her all manner of delicacies while she lounged in silk pajamas like the goddess she was. He allowed his hand to wander down inside her robe, wincing a little at the feel of her ribs. He hummed with pleasure when he reached her fine hair and paused there, his hand resting on her abdomen with a gentle pressure.

He brought his lips to her ear, his voice deep and soothing. "Spread your legs a little, sweetheart."

At that she made an uncertain noise and he felt her pull away slightly. "Red, I…someone might see."

"Shhhhhhh, Lizzie. You're ok. No one will disturb us."

Pulling her back to him he gently coaxed her legs apart, groaning when he ran a finger between her thighs and found that she was aroused. He thought of the first time he had touched her like this, suddenly desperate to recreate the magic of that moment, however confused it had been. Slowly he began to work his fingers down there, spreading her natural moisture and applying light pressure before gently sliding his middle finger inside her. She whimpered then, leaning more of her weight against him as he tightened his arm around her.

"You're ok" he said softly, "you're going to be ok."

Kissing her hair, he returned his fingers to her clit, maintaining a gentle, steady rhythm until he felt her legs begin to tremble. She moaned quietly against his neck and he held her steady as soothing waves of ecstasy washed over her again and again. Her head rolled on his shoulder as she breathed through the last sweet swell of orgasm and he didn't even try to ask her to stand. Lifting her carefully into his arms he walked to the sofa and sat down, cradling her on his knee, her head still tucked against his shoulder.

As he settled her on his lap he enjoyed the weight of her pressing against his arousal. He allowed himself to embrace the aching need she engendered, enjoying the anticipation, the knowledge that she had somehow returned to him and he would be able to take his pleasure from her soon enough. He ran his thumb soothingly up and down her arm, whilst pressing gentle kisses against her hair. After a while her breathing evened and his heart ached with satisfaction that she felt safe enough with him to fall asleep in his arms. He never wanted to let her go again.

A short while later there was a knock at the door.

"Come."

Dembe appeared at his instruction and frowned a little at the scene in front of him. Red held a sleeping Liz in his arms on the couch, and Dembe noted that her robe was partially open, exposing the curve her breast. He averted his eyes to meet Red's steely gaze and watched as he kissed her forehead possessively.

"Well?" he enquired, his voice almost challenging.

"I have a message from Agent Ressler. The charges against Harold Cooper have been dropped, he will be released." he said quietly.

Red smiled broadly although it didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. "That is excellent news, thank you."

Dembe paused for a moment. "As you arranged, agent Ressler is preparing the documents for an immunity deal for Elizabeth. It will finalized tomorrow. I thought she would want to know as soon as possible."

Red's jaw tensed. He looked down at the woman asleep in his arms and then back to Dembe. "I think we'll let her rest. I'll tell her as soon as she wakes, she'll be so pleased."

Dembe nodded and closed the door behind him a little more loudly than was necessary, a grim look on his face. As the door banged shut Liz stirred in Red's arms, nuzzling his neck in a way that made him think that if only he could wake up to her warmth in his arms each day he would be truly happy. She looked up at him sleepily and he smiled softly, pretending for a moment that everything wasn't about to change. He shifted his knee slightly and she seemed to come to her senses.

"Oh God I'm sorry, how long have I been asleep on you? It must have been uncomfortable."

He wanted to tell her that having her in his arms was the most sublime experience he could imagine, that he didn't care if the feeling never returned to his limbs as long as it remained soaring in his heart the way it did when he held her.

"Not at all, Lizzie."

She smiled sheepishly and made to stand up, but he took her wrist gently and pulled her back down onto the sofa. It was too soon, and it was horrible, but to delay further would weigh too much on his already weary soul. She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Lizzie, the time has come for us to discuss certain developments."

Her expression became apprehensive. "What's happened?"

"It's good news, Lizzie. Our scheme to expose the Cabal has snowballed somewhat with the help of our friends in the press, and their activities can no longer be ignored on Capitol Hill. Harold Cooper has been cleared of all charges."

Liz smiled widely. "That's amazing!"

Red paused and worked his jaw for a moment. "While you were being held at the detention facility Agent Ressler and I came to something of an understanding. I offered my services in exposing the cabal - specifically their networks within law enforcement – and he would attempt to negotiate an immunity deal for you. This afternoon I learned that his efforts have been successful." He watched as her eyes widened. "Make no mistake Lizzie, your old life as an agent is not a path that is available to you now. There will be conditions and the cabal has been crippled rather than destroyed. A threat remains. But you are free Lizzie, to make your own choices."

She sat beside him, frozen for a moment before sinking back into the sofa, drawing her arms around herself. "All the time, this is what you were doing. For me."

He remained silent other than to tilt his head slightly in confirmation.

She frowned suddenly. "What about what Ressler said? That you were replacing cabal members with your own people?"

Red shook his head uncomfortably. "Lizzie, when one simply removes a pest, ten more take its place. The only way to permanently quash the cabal's network was to ensure that there was no space for their members to thrive."

"So it was true" she said quietly.

"Agent Ressler's understanding is somewhat black and white. In my world one cannot leave a power vacuum. Lizzie I've never claimed to be selfless, but I'm not quite as Machiavellian as he would like you to think."

Liz ran her hands down her face in pained comprehension. "Since you came into my life nothing has been black and white. I think I finally understand what you meant about the harbor-master's daughter – that you can do things for others but there's always a selfish element."

She paused to look at him and noted the tightening in his jaw as she spoke. "That's not all you meant, is it?" she said slowly. "When you said nothing could make up for what you took from her. I always thought you were talking about me, but it didn't make sense – I killed my father, not you."

Red nodded slowly, his eyes dark and apprehensive.

She swiveled on the sofa to face him head on, her eyes suddenly sharp. "Red, is my mother alive?"

He swallowed. "No sweetheart, I've told you before. Your parents are dead."

Liz's heart began to thud in her chest and she felt sick. The pieces of their conversations, the hints, his burden of guilt – it all came flooding together in a horrible tapestry that once seen, she couldn't banish from her mind. Her mouth was so dry she could barely whisper the question she had to ask but she forced the words out of her mouth, unable to turn back.

"Did you kill my mother? Red. Did you kill my mother?"

She watched as his eyes widened fractionally, his chin crumpled with the tension in his face. It wasn't long before he answered her, and when he did it was like he'd smashed her into a thousand pieces.

"Yes."

TBC