A/N Liz tries to escape, and has to bear the uncomfortable consequences when things don't go according to plan. Disclaimed as ever. Please do review! :-)
She ran to the window and tried again to open it as she had the first night, but it was no use. She already knew that every door and window in the house was locked and bolted like a fortress, as though he'd somehow anticipated her superior lock-picking skills. Peering out into the gloom she could just make out the wall which surrounded the grounds, and the figure of a guard doing rounds around the perimeter. If she timed it right she could slip past him and climb over the wall, but none of that was any good if she couldn't get outside. She watched the guard move round the side of the house, her vision obstructed slightly by the leaves of a thick creeper snaking past her window and down. If only she could get to it… Her heart began to pound. Perhaps she could. The roof garden. It was a long-shot, but she'd take what she could get.
She listened at the bedroom door, and it seemed like hours before she finally heard Reddington's footsteps on the stairs and the click of his bedroom door. She slipped silently from the room and crept to the back of the house. The garden was accessed via a short spiral staircase on the top floor, which came out at the corner of the roof. She gasped when she saw it. She'd assumed that it would be a balcony of sorts with a few pot plants, but even in the dark she could see that someone had gone to the trouble of creating a small paradise up there. Wooden arches loomed at her in the blackness, and she could hear the soft trickle of a water feature. There was no wall, or enclosure of any kind.
Shaking, she walked right to the edge and looked out over the surrounding scene. The house appeared to be isolated with large grounds, although she could see lights from the city in the distance. She felt a little dizzy as she looked down to the gravel below. Walking along the perimeter of the roof, her heart leapt when she realized she'd found what she was looking for. The creeper that went past her bedroom window was attached to a wooden trellis that stretched from the roof to the ground. Almost as good as a ladder, she thought. If you're a crazy person.
Her heart racing, she knelt down and grabbed hold of the thick wooden structure - it seemed sturdy enough. She watched as the guard disappeared round the side of the building again, and seizing her moment, she tried to steady her shaking hands and stepped over the edge. The first few steps were agonizing; her stomach lurched as she looked down and she was terrified the trellis might come away from the wall at any moment. Her hands gripped the wood so hard she felt splinters digging in, and the wet leaves of the vine clung to her face as she moved. With each step down she pressed her body as close to the building as she could, praying that the trellis would support her as it creaked under her weight.
She took another step but slipped suddenly as the toe of her boot slid on wet leaves that had stuck to the wood. She cried out, grabbing desperately at the wood with her hands, a branch of the vine stinging as it scraped along her cheek. Adrenaline pumping she regained her footing and clung to the side of the building, hoping desperately that no one had heard her yell. For a moment she could hear nothing except the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and her own pounding heart. Then she heard footsteps running on the gravel below and before long she was blinded by the beam of a flashlight. Oh crap, no no no…
"Jesus Christ! Just hold on Miss, I'm coming."
She looked down and saw the guard begin to climb up the trellis towards her. There was no point in trying to fight up there – they might both fall. Cursing, she clung to the wall and waited for him to come up. He reached for her and she pulled away, the trellis creaking.
"Now come on Miss, stay calm. We're gonna do this together ok? Nice and easy, one foot then the other. Let's get you down from here."
As he spoke he reached out and patted her arm reassuringly, and they scaled down the building together. When they finally hit the ground she wasted no time. The moment he let go of her she jammed her elbow into his face as hard as she could and ran full pelt towards the perimeter, ran for her life – but it wasn't enough.
She heard heavy boots thumping on the gravel behind her and before she knew it she was hurtling face first towards the ground. The wind was knocked out of her and she felt a sharp pain in her stomach where the nurses had stitched up a cut. Panicking, she struggled ineffectually as the guard knelt over her legs and secured her hands behind her back.
"What d'you go and do that for?" he said breathlessly. "Now I gotta tie you up and he ain't gonna like that, not one bit."
As he spoke she felt him lean back and secure a second set of ties around her ankles, immobilizing her completely. She swore as he picked her up, putting her over his shoulder like a roll of carpet and carrying her into the house. Her abdomen throbbed where her stitches had been wrenched. Finally, he deposited her red-faced and indignant on a sofa in the sitting room.
"I'm sorry" he breathed, "but I've gotta get Mr Reddington. Wait here - and don't try anything" he said as he left the room.
Liz's heart was thundering in her chest as she waited on the sofa. She was positioned at an odd angle, her bottom close to the edge and her shoulders leaning back against the cushions. She had to strain to hold her head up so that she wasn't just staring at the ceiling. It made her feel vulnerable and exposed.
She tried to move but the cable ties bit into her wrists behind her back and she smacked her bound feet against the floor in desperation. She had failed. She'd broken the rules, and the fantasy. He would surely kill her now. She watched the door of the living room nervously, her skin prickling; she could hear voices in the hallway and knew it wouldn't be long.
Finally, the door opened and Reddington entered, closing the door quietly behind him. The guard had clearly got him out of bed – he wore a long, luxurious robe in a rich, deep blue with thick lapels, and she could see a peak of corresponding navy pajamas underneath. For a moment he stood motionless by the door, just staring at her. He looked white as a sheet and she knew that she must look a picture too after being wrestled by the guard on the ground. She felt like a wild animal caught in a trap as he observed her, his eyes burning and his jaw working as though he was struggling with some internal battle.
She tensed as he began to walk towards her, and as he approached she could see that his lower lip was trembling. He paused when he was less than a foot from her, and stood staring down at her, his expression dark. She expected him shout - to be violent - and was surprised that when he finally spoke his tone was low and full of concern.
"Elizabeth what were you thinking?" His chest heaved as he spoke, his breathing shallow. "What if you'd fallen? You could have been seriously injured. You could have been killed". He ran a hand exasperatedly down his face. When he spoke again his tone, whilst still quiet, had picked up a dark fury that terrified her. "I knew you were impetuous, but this...This was a staggeringly foolish stunt Elizabeth. You were reckless to the point of suicidal and I won't tolerate it."
Liz's mind was swirling with fear and confusion. The sight of Raymond Reddington truly angry filled her with dread, but his concern over the incident wasn't that she had almost escaped; he was worried about her. It didn't make sense. She trembled as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry…"
"I hope you are sorry" he shot back. "Not only did you endanger your own life, but that of my employee" he continued, pointing his finger towards the door. "A good man risked his neck to save you tonight, a man with a family. And as if that wasn't bad enough, after he had helped you, you proceeded to attack him! I'm utterly ashamed of you."
She felt a terrible pang of guilt – it was true that the guard had tried to help her. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone" she ventured quietly.
He nodded. "I think you owe him an apology" he said, walking to the door and opening it. "Come in Baz. Miss Scott has something to say to you."
Liz's head was swimming. She was supposed to apologize like a child? They were holding her captive – so why did she feel so guilty? The guard came in and she got a proper look at him for the first time; a tall man, older than she imagined, with graying hair and kind eyes. He had a bruise forming on his face where she had elbowed him.
In her daze she paused too long and Reddington snapped at her "Elizabeth!"
She swallowed. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…I guess I panicked" she finished awkwardly.
The guard smiled sympathetically. "It's alright Miss, I understand. Just try and keep out of trouble from now on."
Reddington turned to him. "Thank you Baz, you can go. Take the night off – go be with your lovely wife. Send her my regards, and tell her you'll be expecting a sizable bonus this month."
"Thank you Mr Reddington, that's very generous. Are you sure you can manage?"
Reddingon turned and gave Liz a dark look. "Quite sure."
She watched helplessly as the guard left the room – she wanted to beg him not to leave her alone with Reddington, but it was too late; he had gone, and in any case they were both acting as though they were the reasonable ones, and it was she who had done something awful.
She looked up at him. "What are you going to do?" she whispered.
"I know what I ought to do" he said, his tone dropping to a menacingly deep pitch. "If you weren't too old I'd spank the living daylights out of you." He shook his head. "Lizzie… You have no idea how painful it is for me to see you like this. Filthy and tied up like an animal."
Liz was scandalized, and felt color flood to her cheeks. She was suddenly overwhelmed with an unpleasant and visceral memory of being caught sneaking out after curfew as a kid, but Sam had never spanked her. Besides, there was nothing paternal about the way Reddington behaved towards her. He had been exceedingly courteous and gentlemanly throughout her stay, but she'd caught herself thinking that intensity with which he observed her and his tone of voice had an almost erotic quality.
It wasn't her fault that she was a mess, but she felt a gnawing sense of shame; the disappointment that radiated from him was unbearable, and a part of her was begging to please him, to stop him looking at her with such evident distaste. Confused and unsure of what to say she couldn't even hold his gaze. She looked at the floor and shivered involuntarily, tiredness, fear and the chill of the night air catching up with her.
Reddington observed this with a frown. "You're freezing." He slipped his robe off and wrapped it gently around her shoulders, and as he did so she noticed a smattering of dark chest hair visible under his pajama jacket. He sat right beside her on the sofa, making her wish fervently that she wasn't completely immobilized by the ties on her wrists and ankles.
"Is that better?" he asked gently, and she nodded mutely. As she did so, he reached out and cupped her chin, his eyes scanning her face and narrowing as he took in the scratch on her cheek. He pressed her cheekbone gently with his thumb, making her wince.
He sighed. "We need to get you cleaned up. If I remove these restraints are you going to behave yourself?"
She nodded earnestly and he suddenly caught her face between his palms, holding her head still.
"I mean it Elizabeth. You are never ever to do anything like this again. Promise me."
Liz's heart thundered in her chest; she felt chilled to the core, despite the warmth of his hands on her face. "I promise."
"Good." He seemed to relax then, and she watched dumbfounded as he produced a small blade from a sheath at his ankle and proceeded to cut the ties binding her wrists and ankles. Once free she sagged with relief and he motioned to her to rise, walking her out of the room and up the stairs with his hand resting at the small of her back.
When they reached her bedroom he disappeared into the en-suite and returned with the supply kit left by the medical team.
"Sit down." He gestured towards the bed and she obeyed mutely, staying perfectly still as he cleaned the scratch on her cheek.
As soon as he was done she stood up to put some distance between them but his hand caught her wrist.
"Elizabeth wait" he said sharply. "You didn't tell me you were injured elsewhere."
She looked down and saw blood beginning to seep through her sweater.
"It's nothing" she mumbled. "I just pulled a stitch that's all."
She tried to pull away but his hand tightened to a vice grip on her wrist. She froze as he stood and unceremoniously pulled her sweater right up, revealing her bruised abdomen and the ragged, bleeding cut just to the left of her belly button. He hissed, as though the sight of it made him angry.
"Lie down on the bed" he said gruffly.
Liz could feel the panic rising inside her again. "What? No! Why?"
Reddington closed his eyes for a moment; when he responded he sounded tired and frustrated. "Because that needs to be cleaned and re-stitched and I can't do it with you standing up. Please do as I ask."
She swallowed numbly before slipping her boots off neatly and climbing on the bed into a supine position, her hands balled into fists at her sides and her exposed stomach taut and quivering with tension. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of him unwrapping a suturing kit. Suddenly she felt something cold on her skin making her gasp; her hands flew to her stomach and she craned her neck to see what was happening.
"It's just a numbing gel Lizzie, please move your hands" he said tersely, without looking at her.
Reluctantly she put her hands back by her sides and tried to imagine she was somewhere else -somewhere safe – but she couldn't escape the feel of his hands on her skin, the brush of his thumb or the sleeve of his pajamas as he worked. Without warning, he began to suture and she cried out quietly when she felt a sharp pinch. Her hand went automatically to her stomach again, trying to push his hand away.
"Lizzie" he growled. "This will be over sooner if you stop interfering." He sighed heavily and paused before speaking again. "Put your hands up by your head and keep them there."
Blood rushed in her ears and she began to see black spots dancing in her vision. "No please, I don't need to do that, I promise I won't interfere again. I know you're trying to help me" she finished desperately.
But he only shook his head. "Do it now please, Elizabeth".
Biting back tears she lifted her hands to rest on the pillow that supported her head, and closed her eyes as he continued to suture the cut in silence. She had never felt more vulnerable in her life, not even in the harrowing moment that she had received the wound he was now patiently tending to. Dirty and tearful, she was lying exposed in front of him and he was treating her like a child or an animal that he was tasked with caring for. It was excruciating.
Mercifully he worked quickly, and she was incredibly relieved when she felt the bed rise under her as he stood up.
"All done" he said wearily.
She pulled her sweater down and sat up, wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Thank you" she whispered.
He surprised her by smiling warmly at that, the motion underscoring the deep creases around his eyes. "You're welcome" he responded softly. "Now tidy yourself up and get some sleep."
With that he exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving her in his robe. Shivering, she wrapped the luxurious material around her, inhaling his uniquely masculine scent and wondering whether her assessment of him could have been wrong after all.
TBC