As they drove to their destination, Francis related a story Mark had told the previous day.
It was difficult to follow the tale because, knowing the punchline, Francis belabored the telling by laughing after every other word.
"So the cop says, 'sing'." Francis' hands were very animated, "and 'Tony Twitchy Eye' says, in that Irish accent he has," the young man mimicked Tony's accent perfectly, "..."I'll sing, I'll sing".
He started a fit of laughing again.
"And did he... sing?" Red was interested in spite of himself, his expression one of pure indulgence.
"Yeah," Francis laughed heartily, "he breaks into this rendition of Copacabana whereupon the Coppers proceeded to make the canary regret the day he was hatched." the hysterical laughter began anew.
"Yes," Dembe's droll voice piped in from the front seat, "quite the knee slapper."
Red exchanged enigmatical looks with Dembe in the rearview mirror. "Francis, have you been reading Mickey Spillane novels again."
"Yeah..." the young man's laughter died a natural death. "I love that man."
"Why did I forgive you again?" Red questioned the validity of that particular decision.
"Because life without me is boring." Francis smiled happily.
"Life without you is serene." Red corrected.
"Oh, look who's talking." Francis scoffed. "You don't see my face plastered on a FBI Most Wanted Poster."
"Yet..." Dembe sighed from the front seat.
Red chuckled, as they pulled up in front of the dark house. Following Francis inside, he nodded in approval, seeing the work that had been done so far to the house.
"It looks nice, Francis." Red praised the improvements. He was glad to see the house so changed, especially after the images which lingered still of the last time he was here.
Francis pointed the way, while Red and Dembe followed.
"East wall." Francis glanced about, getting his bearings. He started off but Red put a restraining arm out.
"East." the older man pointed the actual direction out as the younger had headed South.
The men stood before the wall, searching for any sign of a 'hidden room'.
Francis held up a staying hand, stepping, hitting the last panel at the end of the mantel.
The door slid open of it's own volition, revealing a darkened interior.
Red pulled a flashlight from his pocket, scanning the space. The light danced across the eerie silence, revealing flashes and segments of fragmented images.
The entire room was covered in pictures.
Of Elizabeth Keen.
Red stepped into the area, his focus on the disturbing photos.
There was Elizabeth, getting coffee, on her morning run. There were several stills of the woman sitting with Red on a park bench.
"What is it? What did you find?" Francis stepped inside, his brows raising. "Whoa, what the..." The images rendered him speechless.
Red spun slowly, the beam of light revealing more recent photographs. More specifically, Liz at the Blacksite the day she picked up the baby.
He saw none which would reveal her present location thankfully, but that did not stop him from pulling his phone out, dialing Silas.
"Dembe, shut down the lights."
In a few moments, the house was once again bathed in darkness aside from the hazy beam from Red's flashlight.
"Silas, check on Lizzy, please." Red stepped aside, allowing Dembe to pass into the small space.
The large dark man began taking the photos down, keeping them in order as he neatly deposited them in an empty plumber's box.
Red watched the progress. "Nothings wrong. Let's just say, I'm unsettled." He dropped the phone from his mouth, waiting for Silas' confirmation.
Red glanced around the room, silently fuming. So this was how Tom knew Lizzy was staying with him.
When Red had come to speak with the team after Carver's attack, that little bastard had been hiding in this room, listening to every word said.
How long had he been there? Had he been hiding in here when Carver attacked Lizzy and done nothing to help her? Probably... the damn coward.
"Red," Silas' voice was reassuring, breaking the man's thought patterns, "she's fine."
"Extra vigilance, please." Red snapped the phone shut. His mood dropping a degree.
"What the hell is going on here?" Francis was lost.
"It's all right." Red allayed any further questions. "I think I know who did this."
"Well, would you like to clue me in?"
"Before she was with me, Elizabeth was married." Red yanked down a photo himself, keeping his infamous temper in check. "To an asshole, that doesn't seem to know when to let go."
"You mean the 'asshole' did this?" Francis gestured to room itself.
"He's the only one that comes to mind," Red's tongue played with the inside of his jaw, a nervous tick he had never mastered. "...he's been sending her letters."
"So now he's escalated to shrines?" Francis was trying to wrap his head around such a mentality.
"It would seem so..."
"How did he get in here without her, and more importantly you, knowing."
Red knew he had to tread carefully here. Francis didn't know who Lizzy was, really. Red had to keep the story simple. He would also have to update Lizzy on this... farce.
"She is notoriously bad about setting alarms." there was a brittleness to Red's tone. "And I was out of town so fucking much..."
How long had Tom been in this house, was the question of the day. Had he stood over Lizzy while she slept, watching her, the creepy bastard.
"Hey, she's okay. She's with you now." Francis placated. "Are you going to tell her?"
"Of course I'm going to tell her."
"I think it'll scare her." Francis warned.
She was already scared. A psychopathic serial killer had targeted her, not to mention, the damn letters.
"But that is what Silas is for, right?" the young man remembered. "So she doesn't have to be."
"Silas is the best there is, but even he isn't invincible." Red had seen a lot of good men in his day taken out by unexpected circumstances. He himself, was a victim of such incidents.
"There's no need to panic her, yet." Francis held up both hands to signify he had he problem in hand, so to speak. "When you aren't there, I can be."
"She doesn't panic so easily." Red stated. "She's been taking care of herself a long time."
Red patted the man's shoulder all the same, pleased to have such a friend for Elizabeth.
After the makeshift shrine had been dismantled, they found other miscellanea in the shelves. Weapons, money, fake ID's.
A room by room search netted yet another hiding spot but it was the one Red already knew about.
"What the hell? Is this guy a fucking mole?" Francis shook his head negatively.
"More like a rat." Red arose, dusting his hands. He suddenly felt dirty and it had nothing to do with the drywall dust.
"Well, one bright point, the work will be done in a couple days." Francis said, sitting his box of paraphernalia in the back of the SUV.
Red frowned, "So?"
"So... the Torello brothers are coming in for a visit." Francis grinned. "I thought I'd let them stay here."
The Torello brothers were 'shoot first, hide the evidence', type of guys.
Red thought for a minute, "Why are they coming?"
"They have some business with the Engraver. I offered the place for their use." the information was supplied. "Is it important, because if so... I could get them here tonight, within the hour actually."
"Get them here." Red advised. "Let's get out of sight, in case the asshole shows up."
The three men sat quietly in the car, parked inconspicuously among the rows of many similar vehicles lining the street outside the brownstone buildings.
Francis continually shifted his eyes to a very silent companion. It had been about forty minutes since they had vacated the newly renovated home.
Dembe sat, meticulously scanning the darkened spaces of the neatly kept street. Francis beat out any number of songs on his thigh from time to time. In reality, the young man was trying to get some kind... any kind of response from Red.
He knew, the more contained Red Reddington became the more dangerous the man was.
Not able to stand the silence any longer, another song came to mind, one that would annoy anyone. Francis not only started the rhythm on his thigh, but began singing along with Copacabana.
Red's hand moved with lightening speed as he cocked his weapon, placing the tip of the barrel against Francis' thigh which halted both the singing and any further action from the young man.
"Worried?" Francis smiled finally, relieved to have received a reply.
"That's a damn understatement." Red replaced his weapon in it's holster, returning his interest to the outside world.
"I should have killed him a long time ago. I should have stepped in and..." the bitterness laced the barely contained fury. "She has the worst taste in men," Red laughed shortly, gesturing to himself, "obviously."
Francis was slightly confused over the statement. "Red, I think you're the best thing that ever happened to her." He studied the older man for a long beat. "You're worried he's escalating... and there's something you're not telling me."
"He hurt Lizzy." Red gripped his phone, rubbing his thumb over the buttons. "If I get my hands on him, I'll fucking kill him."
Francis shriveled under the glare and it wasn't even directed at him. "Hurt her how?" his jaw tensed at the news.
"He beat the hell out of her." Red closed his eyes to the images the statement conjured. "I came in an hour too late. The house was tossed, looking like a damned War Zone."
Red fell silent for so long, Francis thought he would not continue the sordid tale.
"She was sitting on the couch." Red would never forget, the image burned in his brain. She seemed so broken, so vulnerable, so alone. "Just sitting..."
Francis watched the man's face carefully. At that moment, Red Reddington seemed broken and vulnerable and...alone as well.
"If I meet the man, I'll take great pleasure in killing him myself." Francis did not like to see his friend in such a state, offering the only kind of support he knew would be appreciated. "What's this prick's name?"
"Tom Keen." the icy cold eyes shifted, meeting Francis' waiting ones. "You find him, you let me know."
"You didn't mention what condition he should be in." Francis suddenly needed to inflict a little injury and mayhem.
Red studied the back of Dembe's noble head. "Just alive." he muttered. "Or a close facsimile there of."
Both men fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.
Dembe stiffened, his eyes on the side mirror. He motioned with his head.
Francis was suddenly all smiles, twisting about, noting the approaching car coming down the street as it shut down it's lights.
Red watched as the car smoothly slid into a parking space several vehicles behind them.
"Show time?" the young man's hand was already on the hilt of his weapon as his smile grew. "You think it's him?"
Red shook his head, his attention focused squarely on the car, his hand tightening on his own weapon as the car doors swung open.
Three very large men unfolded themselves from the other vehicle.
Francis voiced excitedly, "It's just the Torello's."
Red and the others exited their vehicle as well.
All participants met up, gathering behind the relative security of the SUV. Red subconsciously checked his surroundings as old acquaintances were renewed.
Having explained the situation, Red was not surprised when the new arrivals offered their services gladly, especially salivating at the idea of taking out a wife beater.
Dembe shared several of the photos found in the room, catching the Torello's up on all pertinent information.
"This your woman, Reddington?" The older of the brothers, a handsome Italian with impeccable style, jutted his chin towards the woman in the photographs.
Red's eyes lifted, sending a message that any male could read.
"She's pretty enough, I guess, if you like them skinny." Frank nodded approvingly. "Got a nice rack, and I just bet," the man brought the photo closer, purposely focusing on Liz's posterior knowing it would rankle his friend and comrade, " you bare that ass every chance you get."
The man chuckled lowly, reading Red's expression. He had worked hard for that stony stare. "Just paying the lady a compliment, Red."
"That's my department, so stay the hell out of it." Red advised quietly.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to her?" the man grinned, continuing his razzing.
"When hell freezes over." Red stated, drawing the lines in no uncertain terms.
"So you want us to make sure he can't ever add anything else to his... collage." Paulie, the middle brother soothed ruffled feathers. "Or you want we should just hold him for you?"
"I would like to speak with him, but if that isn't possible..." Red shrugged nonchalant shoulders.
Dembe interrupted the flow of the conversation, touching Red's arm. All the men turned watching as a large dark car rolled slowly down the street.
"Well, son of a bitch!" Red had recognized the vehicle even as Dembe, whose relaxed stance indicated as much.
"Isn't that..." Francis pointed animatedly at the approaching car.
"There better be a damned good explanation." Red fumed his annoyance knowing who was inside the SUV.
Francis nodded his agreement as Red stalked his way towards the car which stopped in it's tracks as the man approached.
Reddington jerked the driver door open, his ire more than apparent. "What the hell are you doing here?" he grated the enquiry.
"The little snot was trying to sneak out." Silas bitched right back, his own mood sour. "Said if I didn't bring her, she'd just keep trying until she succeeded." he threw a lethal glare to the darkened back seat area. "She about made it too... I stopped Nora at the front gate and guess who was in the backseat, hiding." his tone sharpened. "What the hell, Red."
Red stepped to the back of the car, opening the door bending to peer inside. His expression foreboding for any recipient on the receiving end.
"You've been gone so long," Liz made her way to the man, "I missed you." she reached her arms out in an effort to appease him with a kiss.
Red's anger softened at the sight of the purposely innocent face and the large blue eyes which searched his so genially.
"Who the hell are they?" Silas bitched, having tried to identify the darkened faces a few feet away. Then it dawned on him. "Oh.." he recognized the bulk, if not the faces, "The Torello's." the man shoved his arm out the slit between the open door and windshield, flipping off the brothers, especially the elder.
Muted laughter met his efforts.
Red stepped back, spreading his hands wide, glancing up to a benevolent God. What else could go wrong?
A loud crack rang out in the still of the night, and Red felt a piercing pain rip through the outer part of his left thigh.
He grunted lowly, his legs giving out from under him as he went down into the middle of the empty street.
Silas was up and out of the car in an instant, headed for the man.
Silas watched Red jerk hastily to his right in anticipation of the kill shot which was surely to follow.
And true enough, another shot sizzled the air. A dark stain blossomed over the light fabric of Red's jacket, seemingly over the man's heart.
Silas threw his bulk over the man, hunching Red closely into the protective sphere he was creating. The man could hear rounds issuing from multiple weapons as he waited patiently for the inevitable.
He did not have long to wait.
A searing bolt of red hot lava perforated his flesh, drilling through the soft tissue of his shoulder, passing through completely as it sparked off the cement of the road directly in his line of vision. It missed Red's head by a fraction of an inch.
Liz quickly climbed over the seat, frantically searching in the glove box for the weapon she knew would be there, as two more shots followed.
Francis and Dembe were returning fire as two of the large men that had been with Red, started off at a dead run down the street... toward the unseen assailant's position.
Lights were flicking on in the houses down each side of the street but none were brave enough to venture anywhere near the windows.
Sliding the car into gear, Liz pulled over, blocking Red and Silas from any further attempts on their lives.
"Get in!" she yelled over the din of gunfire.
Silas was attempting to assist his friend into the back seat of the car.
Liz hid behind the shelter of the door frame, firing the large weapon over the roof of the SUV in rapid succession, in the general direction everyone else seemed fixated on. She winced with each volley because the jolt from the weapon jarred her injured wrist painfully with each shot.
Silas lifted her bodily, shoving her into the passenger seat, climbing in, jerking the car in reverse. He sped down the street backwards, taking a curve dangerously sharp as he exited the field of battle.
Liz climbed into the backseat, desperately searching Red's torso for injuries.
Dembe and Francis walked backwards in unison, continuing their cover fire. Both men jerked at the cutting sound of a bullet passing between them, followed by the sound of shattering glass from a nearby car window.
Frank Torello stood his ground, not bothering to seek shelter of any sort as he took aim on a second floor window. Flashes of muzzle fire had given away the idiot's location shortly after the second shot.
Silence fell over the brightly lit street just as quickly as it had begun, the gunfire halting. Torello grinned widely, knowing his brothers had done their job.
In the distance, police sirens signified their arrival shortly upon scene. Torello waved Francis and Dembe off as he slid into the seat of his car, heading to his brothers' location.
Dembe pulled a neatly executed U-turn, his foot heavy on the gas as he and Francis vacated the vicinity as well.
"Red got hit." There was an anxiousness to Francis' statement.
"He has been hit before." Dembe's calm demeanor served as an example to the younger man. "Silas will have put out a Code 77. We will know shortly the location."
Francis sat back, breathing easier but he knew the tenseness would not leave his body until he actually saw Red's condition for himself.
Liz's hands fluttered shakily over Red's blood splattered jacket, gently easing the material aside.
Silas tossed a wadded up sweatshirt from the front seat. Liz pressed the fabric hard against a gaping wound in Red's shoulder.
She moved closer, her jeans feeling a wetness against her thigh. She reached, feeling about, her fingers instantly covered in sticky warmth.
She ascertained the problem instantly, pressing her knee into the seeping hole in Red's thigh. She felt Red's fingers curl stoutly into her thigh, holding the pressure she exerted, his face twisted with the pain.
Silas was breaking every speed law known to man and the woman had no idea where they were headed but she did know, that Mr. Kaplan was on call and would handle what needed to be done.
Liz glanced down, finding blood seeping through the fabric of the sweatshirt at an alarming rate. She leaned harder into the wound, grimacing for Red.
Silas took a sharp corner, and momentarily, Liz lost pressure on the wounds but quickly enough, she had situated Red on his back and found the familiar points once again.
"Are you okay?" Red asked the woman, his eyes blurry, unfocused.
"I'm going to kill you." she whispered, half laughing, half crying.
"Silas?" he coughed spasmodically, trying to arise.
"I'm functional." the man hit the straightaway in front of him, the speedometer going into the red.
"You're gonna be fine." Liz assured. The man sweated profusely, his skin a chalky pale hue.
There was so much blood.
He reached up, curling a hand around her head, pulling her down to his lips. She held the affection for a moment, before pulling back slightly offering him a soft reassuring smile.
Liz looked up, out the front window as they approached a building. Silas pulled inside an open overhead door. Liz was so happy to note Joe was there waiting and ready.
It meant everything was going to be fine. She had to believe that.
She breathed easier the deeper they drove into the darkened building, seeing more of their guards on site.
And finally, Mr. Kaplan... flanked by people in Surgical gear.
Silas slid to a stop, as the guards flung wide the doors.
Red was extracted expediently.
"Ah, fuck..." the man hissed as he was lifted to a waiting gurney.
Liz kept pace with the rapidly moving cart, not once releasing Red's hand as he was wheeled into a plastic covered room. Unusual things were becoming the norm in Liz's world and she had a sneaky suspicion, she had better get used to it.
She winced under the bright lights of the room. A man had straddled Red's body on the cart, but Liz could not take her eyes from the ever growing blood stain under the attendant's hands as he applied pressure to the chest wound.
Liz could not keep track of all the activity taking place around her, so much was happening all at once.
Red's expensive shirt was cut open, revealing the extent of his shoulder wound. Someone had hooked leads from a machine to the man in order to read his vitals.
The reassuring 'beep' from a heart monitor was something the woman fixated upon instantly.
She stood back, out of the way, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
She noted Kate Kaplan standing on the opposite side of the gurney, the woman's expression giving her hope. There was no sign of strain or stress what-so-ever, simply a calm countenance displayed at all times.
Red was still conscious, his eyes searching aimlessly about. "Dembe..."
"I am here, Raymond."
It took a moment but the words finally outed, "Francis?"
"Oh, like they can get me... can I have your LP collection if you croak?"
"Stand in line." Red's lips twitched slightly for the black humor.
Francis grinned joyously, knowing Red Reddington was still there, kicking ass, as usual. "Okay, I guess I can wait."
Mr. Kaplan's expression hardened and she stepped around all the activity, finally coming face to face with the much taller individual which had caught her attention. The stern expression did not bode well for it's recipient.
"Are you that stoic?" she questioned a silently waiting guard. "Do you think your heroics endear you to me?"
Liz glanced, only just now noticing that the entire front of Silas' gray cotton button down was covered in blood. She gasped her shock, all of which the guard ignored.
"No, Ma'am." Silas responded politely to Kate's enquiry, uncrossing his folded arms coming to military 'rest'.
Kaplan snapped her fingers with but one lethal departing glare and the man was instantly led away to another medical station for care.
Francis noted Liz's concern. "It's probably just a flesh wound." the young man had not forgiven Silas for the hotel incident apparently. But even he glanced after the retreating man, his eyes allowing his own concern after a fashion.
"I need to see the back." the doctor working over Red, instructed his assistants. "The wound, hopefully, is a through and through."
Reddington instantly balked, pushing away any attempts to touch his person. "Kate!" he barked raspingly.
"Raymond, stop struggling." Kaplan advised stonily. "You're making the bleeding worse."
Red knew he would get no assistance in that arena. Turning his eyes to the one person who had never failed him.
"Dembe..." he batted away the attendant's attempts to secure him, for they were concerned for the amount of blood he was losing.
"Red, let them help you." Liz was confused and frightened for the man's inexplicable behavior.
The doctor waved his hand, indicating he needed a sedative which was instantly delivered with professional haste.
Red locked eyes with his counterpart. Dembe's eyes softened then fell pointedly to the blood stained streaks running down Reddington's chest area.
Red felt a wooziness overtake him, his vision blurring, a lightheadedness descending.
The nurses sat him up, slowly gaining some ground against Red's combative nature.
"Don't do this..." he whispered bleakly, weakly trying to stave off the inevitable. "I haven't... there wasn't time..." his thoughts rambled as he fought a losing battle. His consciousness wavered in and out.
Liz darted her head about, seeking explanations for Red's uncharacteristic behavior but all she received in return was a stoic stare from Kaplan and inverted eyes from everyone else she knew.
Francis shrugged helplessly, just as lost as the woman. "Maybe he's delirious?" was all he could think.
The woman's eyes widened, her mouth dropping agape as the horribly scarred flesh of Red's back was revealed. She shifted stunned, questioning eyes to Kate Kaplan.
The woman's expression remained unreadable as she returned her interest to the operating site.
Liz felt the blood drain from her face. She could not pull her gaze from the horrific sight revealed.
What horrible accident had befallen this man. And why had he never even mentioned the incident. Her heart filled with sadness and pain for what he must have suffered.
She wanted desperately to go to him. Her eyes met the bleary stare Red held across the room. A lump arose in her throat but Liz fought down the urge to cry. She smiled for him alone, her eyes shining brightly with new found admiration for the man.
"I was going to tell you..." he whispered, his throat too parched to speak above that volume.
She stepped slowly forward, grasping his hand. "It doesn't matter." the fingers of her other hand trailed a exquisitely tender path across a portion of the scarred flesh. "Nothing matters but you getting better."
He tensed, his body stiffening at the touch. The drugs were doing their thing but the man felt a wave of nausea overtake him, not for the effect, but for the fact she now knew one of his darkest secrets.
"I need to tell you..." he fought the drowning blackness descending.
"Tell me later." she brought his hand to her lips pressing her mouth tenderly to the cold flesh.
"Lizzy..." he whispered painfully. "I meant to..." the man was not ready to surrender to the darkness just yet.
"Raymond," Kate Kaplan stepped close, her tone now a soothing one, "I will watch over her."
"Have to tell her..." he slurred, his hand frantically grasping for a stay hold of reality.
"And you will, when they're finished." Kate assured, waving Liz forward. She grasped the younger woman's hand, pulling her along side the bed.
Red's drooping eyes finally focused on Liz's lovely features. Blinking heavily, he pushed hard against the developing haze.
Kate mumbled something to the woman, then moved aside.
Liz leaned over, her eyes misting. "Stop fighting," her mouth trembled visibly, "sleep..."
Red's eyes glistened with the threat of tears which he quickly blinked aside.
He breathed out harshly, lifting a shaky hand to cup her chin, his fingers gesturing her closer.
The woman followed the directive, laying her lips against his.
"Sleep, Red..." she whispered against his mouth. "I will be here when you wake up." she stressed. "I promise."
His breathing deepened, feeling the pull of the drugs finally take him under.
His hand loosened on her face, going slack as he passed into twilight sleep. An oxygen mask was quickly inserted over his face and the race began.
Kate pulled Liz out of the way, directing her from the room.
Liz looked back uncertain whether or not to leave the man but Kaplan's steady gait urged her to follow. She exchanged a hurried glance with Silas as she passed the man. He sat quietly, as medical personnel stitched up a nasty looking wound in his right shoulder.
The gray-green eyes followed the women's exit before Silas returned his attention to the commotion taking place inside the sealed off Surgical area.
"What happened to him?" Liz questioned anxiously.
"I think you know." Kate replied, gesturing to the scar on Liz's wrist.
"...Fire." Liz inhaled shakily. "But..."
"Let it go for now." Kate sighed. "He was going to tell you himself." she stressed. "Just... give him a chance to explain." the older woman's eyes indicated the arrival of someone else on the scene before taking her leave.
Liz nodded curtly. Francis approached, chair in hand. Liz sat, her legs suddenly feeling too numb to support her.
"Why does she get to go back?" she watched Kaplan enter the operating room.
"Nobody questions that woman." he stated the facts of life. "You look like hell." Francis observed the woman's bloodstained clothing and chalky features.
Liz's face suddenly fell as the emotional onslaught began. She buried those emotions behind her hands, weeping brokenly, releasing the adrenaline, fear and stress of the past thirty minutes of hell she had lived through.
It felt like two lifetimes.
She could not count how many times, as an FBI agent, she had followed this same pattern. Especially after a horrific escapade. Once, she had even noted Samar, alone...shoulders shaking violently as the other woman stood among the row of silent lockers in the Blacksite arena.
Each Agent handled the release of stress in their own fashion, apparently.
Francis knelt before her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He's a strong man, Liz... he's been through worse."
"I'm scared, Francis." she whispered.
"I know." he drew back a little, looking at her. "But Red Reddington is not going to leave you, trust me on that one."
She smiled wanly, swallowing the bile in her throat.
That wasn't the only reason she was terrified, of course.
Francis didn't know she was FBI. He only knew her as Red's fiancée. Of course he would try to make what happened less scary. And she loved the man dearly for caring.
Joe came up to Dembe who stood just outside the draped area. Words were exchanged that she could not hear.
Liz arose quickly, covering the space in seconds. "Has something happened?" she lifted worried eyes.
"There is no news." Dembe stilled her fears momentarily.
She glanced inside the blurry containment area, seeing Silas standing erect so she knew the man was 'functional'.
Dembe relayed some of the news Joe had delivered. "Frank Torello and his brothers are on their way here." he glanced at Elizabeth. "They have the shooter and are assuming you will wish to..." again Dembe sought the woman, "speak with him."
Francis nodded agreeably. "Yeah, I want to speak with him."
"Well, I don't want to speak to the bastard." Liz grated her fury. "I want him dead."
All three men glanced her way, their expressions differing.
Francis grinned, "Now if that isn't Red Reddington's girl... I don't know who is."
Dembe's expressions, as always, was unreadable. Joe nodded approvingly.
"I want to see that son of a bitch face to face, Francis." she stated succinctly. "Do you understand me?"
Francis raised his hands in a defensive position. "When I'm finished with him, he's all yours."
Then the long wait began. The men left her to tend to their business and she returned to the chair, sitting morosely.
She didn't know how long she sat there, listening to the muffled chatter coming from the medical staff across the way, but it was long enough that she began to feel stiff and cold... and totally lost and alone.
Her thoughts rambled from concern for Red to the fact that she had seen the horrible scars on the man's back.
Liz tried so hard to remember the events of that night, the night of the fire. She knew Red was there but in what capacity. Her father had saved her from the fire but she had a vague recollection of a man laying on the floor of the burning house as they passed into safety.
Was that man Red? Had he managed somehow to escape as well?
She wrapped her arms across her chest, warding off the chill. A warm blanket came out of nowhere, falling gently about her shoulders. She glanced hastily up.
"You all right?" Silas asked, sitting on his haunches beside her. He adjusted the sling around his neck, nodding his gratitude as Liz helped smooth the transition.
"No..." she whispered brokenly.
"Tell me."
"I don't know where to begin." she threw her hands out lamely.
"He's no different than he was before." Silas reminded sternly.
"He was scared, Silas." she had never seen the man anything other than in complete control and it was scaring the hell out of her to think something could phase Red to that extent.
"Yes..." the man nodded in agreement, "of your rejection."
"I don't even know what that means." she almost wailed. "I would never reject him in any way, shape or form."
"You're a young, beautiful woman." Silas reminded. "And he's not perfect, obviously."
"Does he think I'm that shallow?"
"You know as well as I do, most women would be turned off by..."
"Well, I'm not most women." she snapped, glancing down at her hands, suddenly very intent on the ring on her hand.
"Look, I know you're chomping at the bit to know what the hell is going on." Silas began. "Just... let him get his shit together before you start the first degree."
"You don't think much of me, do you?" she felt the pain of the reality.
"I think you constantly over react." he did not pull any punches. "I think you act without thinking shit through. You're always going off half cocked."
"I do not!" she over reacted, knowing as much.
"Do I really need to list examples?" the man arose to his full height, his face allowing the anger he felt. The only thing was, that anger was probably more for himself this night than the woman before him.
Unfortunately she was going to get the brunt of it.
"Your loving husband..."
The woman's face blanked instantly, concealing her shock that the man would get so personal.
"You should have let Red kill that fucker." Silas gritted. "That son of a bitch held a gun to your head." he seethed. "And you let him live... why?"
She didn't know why she didn't kill Tom, at the time. But now, without his steady influence, she did understand and was glad she had broken the cycle of abuse. Something this man would not probably appreciate or understand, granted.
"That psychopath was going to put a bullet in your skull." Silas looked off to the makeshift room, his jaw pulsing. "While that man," he jabbed his finger towards Red, "would take a bullet for you. "
Joe gestured for him from across the darkened area. Silas held up a staying hand, continuing.
"Would Tom Keen ever do the same thing?" he asked the burning question. "Fuck no. Because he's the one pointing..."
"I'm past Tom Keen!" she arose, her anger matching the large man's fury.
Silas fell silent and she could not tell if her words had reached him or not.
He slowly turned, his stare a steady one.
The guard took a couple of steps before hesitating.
She watched the man's back, holding her breath expectantly, praying he would turn around.
"Look, you're not going to like a lot of what Red is going to tell you." he stated slowly, his eyes averted. "But instead of blocking him out the minute he says something that upsets you," the cool green stones shifted, steadily holding her gaze, "hear the man out all the way."
"You know what he's going to tell me, don't you?" she felt a foreboding.
"I do, yes." Silas nodded. "And it's probably gonna hurt." he promised. "But Red... would never hurt you unless there was just no other fucking way."
Liz looked after the man as he walked towards the other guard, the harsh and hurtful words rattling around in her head.
But then, the truth did hurt... didn't it?
She clung desperately to the one thing said that gave hope.
Red would never hurt you...if there was any other way.
Her attention shifted hastily. The doctors were walking from the room, all disheveled and appearing exhausted. All except of course, Mr. Kaplan and Dembe who had followed the medical team more sedately.
Liz was moving before she knew what was happening, crossing the space rapidly, shoving her way through the heavy plastic. The woman slowed her movement, her eyes instantly falling on Red's bandaged chest and leg.
She approached him cautiously, ever so quietly. She gently took his hand, standing, staring down at the sleeping man.
She saw him now, in a different light.
As Silas had said, Red had consistently placed himself between her and danger. Obviously, at great risk to himself.
If the man was willing to give his life for hers, he surely would go out of his way to avoid hurting her.
Silas had just told her a different type of truth. One she needed to hear and to heed.
And she knew in that instant, regardless of what Red would say, no matter how much it hurt... she still wanted this.
She still wanted him.