Author Notes:
When I started Focal Point it was with the hope that someone out there in the Cosmos would take a look and understand the story I was hoping to convey.
Given this is the time of year when we are to look back and reflect... I find myself doing just that.
I wanted to take a moment to thank all the readers who stayed with the story through this past year.
I can't believe how blessed I am to have met such wonderful and supportive people. Your encouragement has meant the world to me.
I wanted to thank you personally for making an amateur writer's dream come true...
Most importantly, I need to express my heartfelt gratitude for the donations given to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. There can be no better gift or better people who give it, in my humble opinion.
Hope everyone had the best Christmas ever and each of you made some happy memories.
Have a Happy New Year!
Daniel
May 25
After their return home, Red was met by a very determined and very large, black man.
"Why did you allow him to follow Elizabeth?" Dembe had finally voiced the doubt on everyone's mind.
Red knew instantly that he could not side-step the issue any longer. Dembe had a valid concern, of course.
"Keep your enemies close..." Red reminded. "I know where he is, I know what he's up to, Dembe."
"It must go deeper."
Red turned away, not certain he wanted to get into it. It had been a nice day... so far.
"I know you." Dembe persisted. "Are you hoping he will try something stupid that one of us, or preferably you, will be justified in putting an end to him?"
Red sipped his scotch slowly, taking his time in cultivating an answer. "Would it be so bad?"
"I do not know." Dembe conceded. "But neither do you. You have withheld any harm to the man because of how Elizabeth might react to you."
Dembe knew how Red thought and the man did not deny the statement for clearly, it had not been an accusation.
"So many times, Raymond, in the past," Dembe continued, "the opportunity presented itself and each time, you hesitate."
Red knew all this, sitting his drink aside.
"Do not allow your concern for Elizabeth's reaction, to get you killed, I beg you my friend."
Red was silent.
"Do you think he will hesitate to do so?"
Red shook his head minutely, "...No."
"No, he will not because he believes you are Satan when it comes to Elizabeth's welfare. Never mind he has been hired to do a job." Dembe dismissed with a curt wave of his hand. "It would do irreparable harm to the woman were she to lose you at this stage. I implore you..."
Red turned his head, seeking the man out for the words had both pleased and shocked him.
"If the choice must be made, allow me to make it." Dembe requested, his eyes quiet. "I am in a much more unencumbered position to do so... are you in agreement?"
"You believe Elizabeth..." Red didn't know how to state something so very personal, "...that I am, good for her? In some fashion?"
"In every fashion." Dembe never minced words. "I had my doubts in the beginning, as you know... but now," the man shook his head, "those doubts no longer exist."
Red swallowed a lump in his throat, hastily glancing aside, needing time to master his emotions. He had not realized how much the other man's approval had meant.
Dembe, unbeknownst to the man, had become, over the years, Red's conscious.
At times Red wondered if he ever possessed one, on occasion. There were moments, more and more of late, where he was beginning to feel things he had long ago put aside.
Emotions that got in the way of things he must do to survive out in this icy world of reality that had been forced upon him so many decades ago.
"...It means a great deal, Dembe," Red could admit, if only to this man, "that you think that now."
Dembe inclined his head, the dark eyes observing Red critically. "You must not allow Tom Keen to come between what you have created for Elizabeth and yourself."
"I'm trying to walk that tight rope." Red acknowledged.
"You are too close to the matter, Raymond." Dembe advised quietly. "Today, you lost perspective, did you not?"
Red was losing patience, not sure he was enjoying this dressing down although usually, he took them in his stride because always... always, Dembe was the voice of reason.
"All right, fine." he waved an impatient hand. "Maybe I allowed my anger to sway my judgement a bit."
"And when Silas would have ended the obstacle once and for all, you deliberately tied his hands." Dembe wasn't going to let this go.
"Elizabeth wasn't ready for Silas' particular brand of ending an obstacle." Red felt called upon to defend his decision. "Did you see her face?"
"I did." Dembe replied eloquently. "Perhaps what you mistook concern for Tom Keen, as something it was not."
"Like what?" Red practically snapped.
"Like, concern for Silas."
Red's face must have said it all.
"We know Silas' level of competency exceeds the norm." Dembe pointed out. "Elizabeth, she only knows what she has seen, which is very little in comparison to what we have seen where Silas is concerned, yes?"
Red was given pause for thought.
"All right, granted but she still is not ready for Tom Keen to be ended."
A polite way of saying something that wasn't even discussed in polite circles.
Ended. What a nice way to put it. Red wondered who had originated the euphemism? Antonio Crocetti, probably. The guy had class, if nothing else.
"Which is what Silas would have done."
Dembe did not argue the point, "It is very likely for the best. Keen will not try anything here."
The cup of coffee was lifted to his lips as he sipped the iced brew. "He has her under surveillance, he can afford to relax for the moment."
"And we have him." Red felt better knowing where the little fucker was and what he was up to.
"The stalemate will not last." Dembe reminded. "His Superiors will expect results sooner rather than later."
Red nodded absently. "When the time comes," and the man knew it would, "I will take full responsibility. I don't want any bad feelings between you and Elizabeth."
Dembe clearly did not approve of the statement.
"Please observe my wishes on this matter, Dembe." Red asked. "I trust her only to you if something should happen."
Dembe lifted his head, keeping his thoughts private.
"Listen," Red wanted to speak of more pleasant things, it had been a relatively good day. Why end it otherwise, "why don't you take an evening out to enjoy yourself? Make use of the safe house? It will do you some good, my friend."
Dembe declined the offer politely. "The off-duty guards and I have elected to watch the Super Bowl game we missed while dealing with your insane off-shore prison scheme."
"Luther Braxton?" Red questioned.
"Was there another off-shore prison scheme you were involved with set during the Super Bowl that I am not privy to?"
"Dembe, I do believe you are garnering a rather dry sense of humor." Red enjoyed the jibe to his rather dubious plan. "Go, enjoy your evening."
"And Tom..." Dembe questioned.
"He can't join you." Red managed with a perfectly straight face. "And he get's no more snacks on my dime."
"Not very generous." Dembe pointed out. "Say goodnight to Elizabeth for me, please."
Red watched the large shouldered man walk away. He moved with a grace of a panther. Few knew what truly lurked beneath the seemingly mild-mannered demeanor Dembe portrayed.
But Red knew and the fact somehow made him feel more secure.
After his nightly ablutions, Red climbed into bed, a rather pleasant weariness settling about his frame.
He could hear Lizzy rustling about in the master bath.
Why did it take that woman so long to do something so simple. But the end product was well worth the wait, in his opinion.
He stretched luxuriously, reminiscing about the last twenty-four hours. It had been an eventful day.
Whatever had possessed him to suggest such a common place thing as going out for an ice cream?
He usually could come up with something totally original, off-the-wall entertainment. He recalled one such outing with a young lady of his acquaintance which ended the evening at a sky-diving establishment.
Needless to say, even though the woman was game right up to that point of actually diving out of the plane... she did not return his calls the next day.
The memory brought a smile.
Red's thought's turned to Jack Reddington.
After all this time, given a chance to say a proper farewell had meant a great deal.
His friends, especially Lizzy, had seemed interested and sympathetic to his loss.
He had appreciated that fact.
And Lizzy... a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold... there had been something special about that little hand tucked inside his today that he had truly needed.
To keep the fallen foremost in one's thoughts, was a difficult task, for life was meant to be lived.
But what did it say about someone who could blithely sail through that life with no serious contemplation or thought to those who had sacrificed their life, their good times, their together forever moments with family, friends... so that another person could go on in his or her stead.
It boggled Red's mind that such people existed. So wrapped up in their own little sphere, they truly could not grasp such a moving, eloquent gift.
Red always thought his father one of those individuals.
His father. Richard Reddington.
Great military mind, strict disciplinarian, soulless, empty vessel of a man...
Bastard.
A part of Red loved his father, they say every child needs that.
The antagonist, cold, aloof, unapproachable fucker had, over the years, turned that emotion into pure hatred, trumping any affection Red might have given.
It had been him and his mother, a team, united against the world.
They had developed a system, a rapport. A mutual respect.
Then his father came home, throwing everything into chaos and disorder.
For a military family, the break in scheduling was unsettling. What had run like a well oiled machine was quickly thrown into a lurch because Richard Reddington had a better way of running things.
At least, to his way of thinking.
Until of course Jack had let him know in his own special way, what he thought of Richard's way of doing things .
An argument had ensued, a mother of one. Red had secretly enjoyed the way Jack handled the situation. Taking Red's mother's side, telling Richard how wrong the man was to try forcing his methods and beliefs on someone else. Without even having put in the time or effort to learn, if the system already in place, worked.
The bathroom door opened, bathing the room in light, breaking Red from his thoughts.
Red's eyes followed Lizzy as she shut the light off with her elbow while smoothing lotion over her hands and arms as she walked to the bed.
He rolled to his side, grasping the blankets, pulling them back for her. He smiled softly and the woman smiled right back.
She absently situated herself in bed, rubbing the last of the lotion into her knees and those long shapely legs.
"I'm really glad you came home today." she said, sliding between the blankets Red was pulling up over her.
"As am I." he felt a surge of contentment as her naked form slid along his own warm, solid one. "I missed you very much."
"I missed you too." she rolled over, slinging her leg over his thigh, getting comfortable.
Red smiled down at the little head laying on his chest, then drifted in the silence, absently stroking her back.
"You're thinking again." she stated quietly. She was beginning to know his 'moods'.
Red had tried without success to think of other subjects, but one kept looming overhead. "I was thinking about my father."
The way he said the word, father, was anything but warm.
"Why did you say it like that?" she lifted her head to seek out his gaze. "Was your dad–"
"An asshole? Yes, he was."
"I didn't mean to pry." she wondered if that were a true statement.
"You weren't. Don't worry." he laughed gently. "It's an age old tale, I suppose."
"Too strict?" she questioned sympathetically, laying back into her comfortable spot, snuggling into his shoulder.
"No, that I didn't mind." he could appreciate discipline. "Kids appreciate structure whether they know it or not." he sighed lightly, pausing for a long beat. "No, he was just a cold bastard. I never understood what my mother saw in him." it had always puzzled Red. "She was so warm, loving and kind. And he was the complete opposite."
"Was he mean to her?" Liz asked, stroking her fingers over the soft hair on Red's stomach.
"If you're asking if he ever hit her." Red voiced the question. "No, he didn't. He was good to her, in the traditional sense." he admitted. "He gave her a nice home, full bank account and free reign over the house." he remembered the house being warm and inviting... when his dad was out of it.
"He even treated her to dinner and the like, but I wonder if he was ever actually affectionate with her?" Red purposely thread his fingers affectionately through Lizzy's hair. "Because, you know, I don't ever recall seeing them hug or kiss."
It had bothered Red as a young man, watching his mother go through the motions, pretending a perfect marriage when the opposite was the truth.
"Maybe she was happy with her comfortable life." Liz shrugged minutely. "It was a different time, another era." it was reminded. "Secure marriage and that she produced a child, and a son, no less."
"I suppose," the man mused, "I don't think he really loved her."
"You loved her."
"There's a difference between love from a child and from your spouse."
"Well, not to gross you out or anything, but they did have to have occasional sex... they did produce you."
"Doesn't mean it was affectionate or even good." Red muttered, frowning his empathy.
Liz sensed the depth of Red's concern.
"Hey, if she was anything like you, and I think that's exactly where you inherited your kindness and warmth," Liz snuggled into the man's warm body, planting an affectionate kiss on his chest, "your dad couldn't help but love her. Such a thing rubs off on a person."
Red picked up on the subconscious slip. Couldn't help but love her...
Did Lizzy feel those deeper emotions for him? Or was it just a mental slip? Was she speaking merely on generic terms?
The woman's gasp and frantic movement startled Red from his thoughts.
"No!" she whispered tragically, instantly up and frantically searching about, her hands running over the pillows, under the covers. Nudging him to vacate his spot.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Red moved aside, reaching for the light. Her stricken features alerted him to a problem. "What are you looking for?"
The large eyes lifted, tears threatening. "My necklace." her hand instantly went to her unadorned throat.
"I can't find my necklace!" she began to search in earnest, mindless of her state of undress.
Pushing out of the bed, he secured his robe following after her as she rushed off to the bathroom and closet, upending the hamper, flinging open drawers...
"Calm down." he was determined to soothe tattered nerves. "Which piece was it?"
"My..my Journey necklace." her eyes were glittered with unshed tears, her voice trembling noticeably. "My Journey necklace!" an involuntary sob escaped her throat.
"I'll take the sitting room." he motioned for the woman to continue her own search. "We will find it, Lizzy. It's all right."
"It is not all right." she returned to her meandering, a hopeless expression on her pretty features.
Slipping some lounge clothes over his nude frame, Red made his way to the sitting room. Looking over the couch, he haphazardly tossed pillows aside.
"What are you doing?" Francis passed in the outer corridor, having retraced his steps.
"Lizzy can't find her necklace." Red stuck his hands between the cool leather cushions of the couch, looking in the cracks.
Francis put his plate of goodies aside, quickly joining in the search. "Her ruby one?"
Red retraced their earlier steps, "It has to be here."
The effort came up empty, however.
Francis enlisted the help of Dembe and the guards who put their 'Super Bowl' on pause to pitch in. One even taking a turn in the swimming pool.
Red returned to the bedroom, his expression alerting the nervously waiting woman.
Liz burst into tears, her mouth trembling visibly.
Red's heart melted. He crossed, taking her in his arms. "We will find it." he whispered, wiping her face with gentle thumbs. "And if not, I'll buy you a new one."
"But y-you gave that to me for my b-birthday." He must understand the sentimental value alone far outweighed the monetary. The blue eyes beseeched him.
Francis discreetly tapped on the door facing, "I'm assuming we'll need the car?"
"And flashlights." Red smiled tenderly down at the dark expression and wet spiked lashes. "What do you mean, we?"
Red spared the young man a glance. "I'll go, Francis. You don't have to–"
"Hey, a near replica of that thing got me laid once." Francis balked. "It means as much to me as it does to her."
Liz managed a weak smile and Red was once more indebted to Francis' incredible instinct at reading the woman's moods.
Red listened as the kid's footfalls echoed down the hardwood corridor. "I'll get dressed, we will retrace our steps..." he broke down the game plan, "we will find it, Lizzy."
She absently followed him to the closet. "I'll never forgive myself if–" she gasped yet again, quickly grasping for her matching bracelet to ensure it was still in place. "Oh, thank God!" she breathed a sigh of relief.
Slipping into his clothes, Red could feel the tension clear across the room. He grabbed his wallet. "You keep looking here. You didn't check downstairs yet."
She seemed grateful for something with which she could occupy herself. "I can go, Red." she brightened.
"You stay." he vetoed the notion. "Tom is still lurking about... I have my phone," he held it aloft as proof before depositing it in his inside pocket, "if you need me. And Dembe is here..."
His eyes softened on the fretting woman. "Don't sit here worrying yourself sick. Go watch the game with the guys."
"I know who won." she pouted. "I'll be fine, thank you for this, I owe you..." she added sincerely.
His eyes twinkled, laying a kiss on her pouting lips. "Big time."
Francis was waiting by the car, "Nothing turned up in there." he crooked his thumb to the vehicle. "I thought Dembe was going to dislodge the back seat, that man doesn't know his own strength."
Red nodded his gratitude, lowering himself into the driver's seat.
As they passed a wary Tom Keen, who watched their every move, Francis took the opportunity presented to flip Tom off , after a cheerful wave of his hand.
They drove in silence for a goodly beat.
"Is this where we discreetly but efficiently, break into the jewelry store and get a replacement?"
Red glanced, seeing the earnest expression on Francis' face. "Or... I could simply purchase one tomorrow."
Francis seemed deflated.
"But no." the older man continued. "Lizzy knows that necklace like the back of her hand."
"Are you kidding me?" Francis scoffed openly. "She's always finding new 'age spots', the back of her hand is continually changing or 'morphing', as she puts it." the young man shook his head.
"It was a Journey necklace that Giovanni made especially for her." Red stated. "She will know, trust me. And I wouldn't do that anyway... it's dishonest, you twit."
Francis sat back, resigned, "Lead on, Herr Kommissar."
"Herr Kommissar?" Red questioned the form of address.
"That's what Dembe called you..." Francis remarked off-handedly then sat up straighter in the seat. "Oh wait... I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."
Red sighed mentally, turning his attention back to the matter at hand.
Red's first stop was the ice cream parlor. He 'tipped' the staff handsomely to ensure their full cooperation.
Extortion, was the phrasing Francis used but Red preferred to trust in human nature and greed.
He offered a couple grand which he waved around like confetti that 'human nature' might rise above the usual level of depravity to which he and Francis were accustomed.
But alas, found nothing. Though, he did tip the workers handsomely for trying.
Next, they swept the grounds and pier area meticulously, the search proving uneventful.
"Oh, you're back."
Red hastily prevented Francis from pulling his weapon, planting a welcoming smile on his face.
"Officer Peters, you're still on duty?" Red absently consulted his watch. The officer smiled amiably, a question in his eyes.
"My wife lost her ruby and diamond necklace." Red managed a worried expression, "A family heirloom."
"If it helps, she didn't have it when you were sitting here." the officer pointed to the bench behind them. "I noted the bracelet though."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive." Officer Peter's replied. "Paid to observe and all..." the man chuckled quietly, even as he was observing Francis Holbrook, Red noted.
"My sister is such a pain." the boy stepped up. "Isn't there some law that says she has to be the one to come search out something she lost?" he managed a more than convincing lack of desire to be out here at night. "I'm sure that has to be on the books somewhere."
Officer Peter's smiled. "Sisters are like that." he sympathized. "Can't shoot 'em, can't bury them in the back yard with the cats."
Francis' face fell, "When the hell did they start that ridiculous law!"
Red relaxed because Officer Peter's was now relaxed.
"See and you thought Congress just sat on its ass all session." the cop quipped.
"Well, we won't take up anymore of your valuable time, Officer." Red made a leisurely trek past the guy.
"You might try looking in little Francis' Lego box," Officer Peter's suggested brightly, "my wife lost her wedding ring and that's where it turned up."
"How did he know I had Lego–"
Red ushered the boy quickly to the waiting vehicle with a sincere, "Good evening Officer, thank you for the suggestion. We will try that."
Once in the car, Francis felt obliged to explain his earlier reaction. "Sorry, Red. I thought it was that jerk off, Tom, fuck face stalker boy."
Red sent him a warning shift of his eyes, "Be more circumvent in future encounters."
Francis nodded his understanding, falling quiet for a beat. "If it's anywhere, maybe the spot where that bastard belted Lizzy." he took hope.
Red steered the car, heading in the needed direction.
"Dammit!" Red vented his frustration after yet another fruitless search.
He glanced over, finding the younger man standing perfectly still, his own flashlight hanging motionless by his side.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Silas says we should all be more 'Zen'." Francis explained his behavior. "And apparently he's right." the man's eyes opened, intent on Red. "She had it when we went to the Wall."
Red was clearly skeptical.
"I remember because I could see it reflecting back when she did the tracing of Jack's name."
Red looked at Francis in a new light.
The walk to the Wall seemed to take forever. Once there, the obstacle appeared daunting.
Mementos were strewn the entire length of the Wall. Flowers, rings, bracelets, watches, dog tags and other countless tokens of remembrance.
Red took one end of the black gabbro monument, Francis the other.
When they met in the middle, or more appropriately, under Jackson Reddington's name panel, the result was the same.
Not one damn necklace.
"We have to be logical here." Francis warned.
"That'll be a first..." Red muttered.
"It was an expensive piece, Red. If someone found it..." he let it hang in the air.
Red's frustration was rising. He too, was a realist but something urged him onward. "You can bail, Francis. Really..."
"Not gonna happen." the man shook his head vigorously. "Arlington." Francis shrugged. "It's gotta be there, unless it fell off during the ride." the man grimaced.
"God, don't even say that." Red replied, then turned mischievous eyes the young man's way. "If push comes to shove, I'm strapping you to the hood of the car to scour the path we drove."
"I can dig it." the man shrugged carelessly. "What? You think this would be the first time I played hood ornament?"
Red was glad for the man's company, truth told. "Let's not draw undue attention to ourselves just yet," he smiled, shoving Francis towards the car, "I'll have Dembe Google any new laws that may pertain to such actions."
Arlington was still closed.
Red hung his head dejectedly having been informed of the fact by the stoically, somber guards when he had approached.
He had held up a pacifying hand, explaining their mission.
"The best I can do..." the older guard of the two, shook a sorrowful head, "is thirty minutes before the official opening. We sometimes make exceptions."
"I got five grand here that begs to ask the question," Francis begged, "you have one guy here, could you go look?"
The Soldiers demeanor changed, "I can't leave my–"
"His post." Red finished, his tone placating. "Yes, I know, Soldier and I apologize for my friend's crass remark. Say you're sorry, Francis."
"I'm sorry." Francis obediently responded, putting his wallet away.
"Can I wait over there?" Red motioned to a spot further down the parking area. He didn't want these people getting antsy. The guard was still eyeing Francis belligerently.
"Hey, I'm really sorry, man. Really." Francis was sincere.
"It's five hours before we open, Sir."
Red nodded, "Is it okay?"
The Soldier shrugged.
Francis got in the car which Red pulled down the empty spaces.
"Don't even think of sending me back home empty handed." Francis read the other man's mind. "I'm not going to be the bearer of bad news. They shoot people for that. Don't think I don't know."
"Just because you do it," Red said, "doesn't mean everyone follows suit. Go home, Francis, it's late."
"I don't think so!" Francis balked, crossing his arms over his chest, staring straight out into the night.
Red parked, the silence falling.
"I'll take the front." Francis ended the stalemate. "I'm used to sticking things up my ass." he stared morosely at the gear shift.
"I'm sure you are..." Red sighed heavily, jerking the car door open, exiting grumpily.
Francis chuckled his amusement, stretching his frame out comfortably. He rolled down the windows, pleased a pleasant breeze was coming down the open fields.
"It won't be so bad." he listened to Red attempt to find a comfortable spot. "Remember Bangladesh? That time we–"
"I believe," Red's disjointed voice came from the darkened interior, "we agreed to never discuss that incident again."
Francis shrugged stocky shoulders. "Just saying, it could be worse," a sly grin gracing his features, "...could be raining."
Both men turned their head as the distant rumble of thunder echoed over the solemn area. Red looked at the young man, throwing a dagger or two the man's way.
"Oh... the irony." Francis muttered.
"Shut the fuck up, Francis."
What seemed a very short time later, Red jerked awake, groaning at the crick in his neck but his reflexes were in perfect working order as another car pulled in alongside them.
Red shared a look of communication with a suddenly wide awake Francis Holbrook.
"Oh..." the other man had a better view. Francis re-holstered his weapon. "It's just the old ball and chain."
Lizzy's pretty face came into view, her fingers tapping the top of the opened window.
"The windows are open?" she was ever more distraught. "Are you guys crazy? There are thieves, killers..."
"I have an alibi, I was sleeping..." Francis grumbled, drawing Liz up short.
"Francis, you're talking gibberish... more than usual." Red quipped, efficiently distracting Lizzy. "What are you doing here, sweetheart?" he forced the door open, causing Francis to hastily catch himself from tumbling from the vehicle.
"I refuse to sleep in a comfortable bed knowing, all the while," she gestured to their sleeping arrangements, "you guys are miserable in this sardine can."
"This sardine can costs eighty thousand big ones, girlie." Francis took umbrage.
"And how did it sleep?" Liz demanded.
"Well, it was better than Bangladesh–"
"Francis!" Red snapped, silencing the boy.
"What?" Liz's brows furrowed.
Francis' mouth clamped closed, sharing a soft titter of laughter with Dembe. Both men's large frames shaking with the effort to keep it contained.
"Never mind..." Red chuckled.
Narrowing her eyes at the three amused men, Liz sighed heavily, returning to the reason for her arrival.
"Red, the necklace means the world to me but I never, in a million years expected you to go to such lengths." Liz implored. "It's gone. Someone found it. Please come home now."
"Dembe," Red took her arm, gently guiding her back to the other car, "take her home."
"No!" Liz balked. "I won't go."
"See? She knows what they do to the bearer of bad news too."
"Shut up, Francis." Liz grumbled, drawing a smile from Red.
"Lizzy, I need you to go home." Red pleaded. "I'm fine here."
"I'm not leaving unless you do."
She looked beseechingly at Dembe and Francis for some sort of assistance. "Make him go!"
"Should I shoot him in the foot?" Francis piped up. "It will only be a flesh wound, but everyone seems to think they are just fine and dandy."
Liz's hopes fell.
"You knew he wouldn't leave," she focused on Dembe, "didn't you."
"Raymond can be very determined when he wants something." Dembe opened the SUV's hatch, motioning for Francis' assistance to lay down the seats.
"He doesn't pay you nearly enough." the man stared at the equipment Dembe believed a necessity for their late night meanderings.
"No, I do not." Red agreed readily, "and I dearly love you, Dembe." he too had come alongside the SUV.
"I am spoken for." Dembe stated in that stoic manner, pulling the air mattress free of it's carry case.
Liz had come around, her eyes large and wide as she took in all the paraphernalia. "He really doesn't pay you enough." she was flabbergasted.
She hit Red in the shoulder, "Give him a raise."
"A large one." Dembe grinned, handing Red a cold compress.
"For Elizabeth's cheek." Red was amazed. Dembe had indeed thought of everything.
"No, for your neck." Dembe shut the cooler's lid. "This one, is for her injury."
"You make out the amount from now on." Red placed the coolness on his neckline, experiencing instant relief. "I'll just signed the damned check."
Francis gasped, "Cold beer!" he dove into the cooler with relish.
"The little things in life." Red philosophized. "Take Lego boy home, Dembe. We'll try to muddle by on what you've brought."
"It's three o'clock in the morning." Liz reminded Francis who was guzzling the ice cold beverage with gusto.
"Oh, sorry." Francis had forgotten his manners. "Want one?"
Liz sighed heavily, turning aside. She glanced over their impromptu camping gear absently. She knelt, sorting through some pillows and blankets, marveling at Dembe's efficiency.
"I will stay." Dembe offered.
"Me too." Francis popped another top, his mood certainly improved.
"Don't you trust my abilities?" Red purposely put it on those terms. He waited patiently for the reply.
"We lost the parasite." Dembe made reference to Tom Keen.
"As I knew you would." Red was proud.
"We will see you in the morning." Dembe held the keys to the SUV aloft. Red exchanged items, having his answer.
The fast, speedy car was fired to life, taking off moments later leaving the quiet of the night.
Red waved a nonchalant hand to the guards who had diligently watched the proceedings with a cautious eye.
Lizzy climbed into the back, bouncing her butt on the mattress. "This is remarkable." she spread her hands out. "What will they think of next? And Dembe didn't even have like a bike pump or anything!"
"Why don't you take off your clothes." Red had other inventions on his mind, one's God himself had fashioned. "Get comfortable."
"If I wanted to put on a show," she arched a brow to the guards who, admittedly could not see through the darkened windows, "I would charge admission."
"But baby," Red innocently reminded, "you know how you hate to get all wrinkled." he said, removing his own vest and shoes, sitting them aside.
"That's you." Liz was enjoying the moment more than she wanted to admit. "But I admire you for trying."
Red's eyes danced with contained delight.
"Besides, you know how I hate to get arrested."
"You used to be more fun." the man chided.
The woman laid back into the bed, unbuttoning her pants and pushing at them until her panties came into view.
"May I assist you?" Red asked, his large fingers already curling into the waist of the tight clothing, assisting the woman tugging them free of her legs.
Liz eyed him, waiting. Red grinned, popping the catch on his own slacks before swiftly removing them.
"Much better." the man sighed his relief.
"Does that sound like thunder to you?"
Red sighed mentally, stretching out on the makeshift bed. "Blame Francis, he conjured it."
Elizabeth was lost.
"It's a line from a movie he likes."
"Oh!" realization dawned. "Young Frankenstein, it could be worse, could be raining."
"It's like speaking in code sometimes," Red moved the pillow about, "having discussions with that boy."
"But you understood it." Liz chuckled, taking her spot in the man's arms, content now.
"I've learned a few important cipher keys over the years."
"Or... you've seen the movie." she corrected.
Red let it go, content to have her close, the night sounds settling about them.
"I couldn't sleep." Liz's thoughts had wandered. "You weren't there."
Red turned his head to seek out the woman. He traced the pert nose with an artists appreciation.
"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." he marveled.
She smiled but the good feeling was soon replaced by a sad one. "Someone else has my necklace, don't they."
"You don't know that." he soothed, handing over a cool compress. "Here, baby."
She placed the refreshing package against her cheek, settling more comfortably against the man.
This isn't so bad, he mused silently. Francis had been right.
The night was dark and quiet, a cool breeze filtered through the nearby trees.
In Bangladesh, they had the cold, hard ground to sleep on.
And he certainly didn't have this soft, warm body beside him.
"It meant so much to me, that's all."
The desolation could be heard in her tone.
"How could I have been so–"
"Never give up hope, Lizzy." Red advised quietly. "Trust in the goodness of people. There is still some out there in the world."
Liz didn't know if she believed that or not. She clung tightly to 'one' good person however, because he always made her feel better somehow.
"I'll try." she promised. "I really will try."
"Good girl." Red brushed his lips on the softness of the silky waves, "I think it was Mark Twain who said, I've had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened."
Liz nodded, trying to assimilate the mind-set, "I'll keep a good thought then."
Red tried to do the same, for he had envisioned the night ending in an entirely different manner. But found, he didn't mind because they were together.
Being home again felt good, it felt right. The quiet ice-cream run, the later conversation in the park, even the untimely arrival of the cop.
It had all accumulated into this moment.
The little things in life meant a lot.
Lizzy was a constant reminder of the fact.
Reading the paper on a Sunday morning, cuddled in bed. An uneventful dinner at home. Watching old classics on TV... sleeping in a parking lot in a SUV...
All were just as important, maybe moreso, than the material or even the physical side of a relationship.
Did the sentimental aspect of losing the necklace truly override the monetary value for this woman.
He believed it did. He truly believed it.
He had planned on an elaborate, romantic culmination to the day, for he had missed Elizabeth greatly and needed to make the extra effort to please her... and himself.
But suddenly, Red realized... being here, in this deserted parking lot, surrounded by the essence of the woman, feeling her warmth close to him... it meant more than anything he would ever own.
Time with her was... priceless.
May 26
Red awoke with the first hint of day break where the sky took on a hazy hue of twilight. As though the sky fought against the approaching dawn, the dark blanket struggling to maintain the quiet solitude.
Tightening his arm around the woman spooned to him, he nuzzled his nose into her soft hair.
"Lizzy..." she stirred slightly, waking as slowly as the day, "don't you want to look for your necklace?"
Her eyes slid open, her hands blindly throwing aside the blankets. "I'm awake."
"I thought that might do it." he smiled softly, arising in his own time.
After they were presentable, Red pulled the SUV into a nearby parking space. The guards appeared a little more sedate but otherwise, ushered them inside the gates graciously.
They headed off, until they rounded back to the area of Jack's grave. Searching each grave they passed, looking for even the smallest glint, and yet, nothing.
Red could sense Lizzy's frustration, but the woman was putting up a brave front.
As they came around the large tree a short distance from Jack's grave, Red pulled up short, reaching out to snag Liz's arm, when she would have continued on.
"What?" she looked up expectantly.
"I'll be damned." he muttered, motioning with his head.
Liz turned her head as indicated. An attractive older woman was standing at Jack's grave, head bowed.
"Is that a member of your family?" she whispered.
"No," he quickly patted his pants and jacket pockets making certain it was still there, but then, when had it not been, "but damn near close."
He held his hand out, the woman's small fingers instantly gripping his. Walking quietly towards Jack's grave, Red pulled up short a few feet away, his gaze gentle on the woman who stood so solemnly quiet. He too, glanced down at the headstone which held her attention so profoundly.
"Rachel?" he ventured softly so as to not disturb the scene unduly.
The woman turned slowly as if returning from a far distance, "Ye–" she hesitated, then halted mid-word, recognition immediate, "Raymond?"
Red's eyes softened on the woman and he forced a smile, "It's been a long time." an understatement in itself.
"And you've been a very bad boy." the woman scolded lightly, old times coming to mind.
How many times had his mother said those very words and this woman had been present on a few of those auspicious occasions.
Red's face brightened like Liz had never seen before.
"Some things never change, do they." he held out his hand, clasping the woman's cool palm to his warmer one. To his great surprise, he was instantly wrapped in a tight hug. He returned the gesture, just as warmly.
"You sound just like him, you know." the woman muttered into his shoulder, tears escaping the still lovely eyes.
"Do I?" he questioned, rubbing her back soothingly, his voice and manner the same.
Lizzy stood quietly aside, unwilling to intrude.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Red remembered his manners, properly contrite. "Rachel, this is my fiancée, Elizabeth."
The brunette broke the embrace, pulling back to take in the lithe woman. Liz was looked over, the lovely woman's brows arching slightly.
"Fiancée?" she grinned infectiously.
"Whatever you have to say..." Red drawled, "I'm sure I've heard it before."
"She's just beautiful." warm eyes laced Elizabeth's face.
"That she is." the man agreed wholeheartedly.
"And most likely too good for you, you rascal." It was soundly scolded. A hand was held out, gently covering Liz's. "It's very nice to meet you."
Liz muttered the expected inanities, her curiosity more than piqued by this suddenly 'mysterious stranger'.
"Your every move is usually posted all across the Internet," the stranger was saying to Red, "I haven't heard anything about this lovely young thing."
"The Internet, hum." Red was amused. "We come from a different era."
"We all have to adapt to changing times, Raymond." slender shoulders were shrugged. "Don't tell me you don't make use of technology. Now, tell me all about this pretty lady here. How did you two meet?"
Pleasantries were exchanged, basic information forth coming on both parts.
"And now you're here." a smiled was beamed. "It's like Fate brought us to this moment, isn't it."
"Rachel is a beautiful name." Liz had finally found out the identity of the woman.
"A biblical name." Red recalled how Jack had said it, how the man's entire being had softened when he did.
"Oh, that's enough of that." Rachel chided, "They were always teasing me. Jack used to say, wasn't anything remotely 'Biblical' about the likes of me." she laughed gently, her hand tracing lovingly across the top of the gravestone, her eyes filling with a mist which she quickly blinked away, forcing a brightness. "Are you here to visit him too?
"We came yesterday." Red stated. "Spent some time."
"I don't like the crowds." Rachel's face skewed for a beat. "It's better when everything is quiet."
Red nodded, "Yes."
"I lost my necklace." Liz blurted.
Rachel blinked, "Necklace?"
"That's why we came back." Liz couldn't shut up, but the other woman's pain was apparent. Rachel wore it like a shawl. "Not that it's the only reason, of course. I mean, of course that wasn't the..." she looked at Red with desperate eyes.
Red smiled gently, understanding and appreciating Lizzy's rambling's for what they were.
He tilted his head, looking at the headstone wishing he could make her feel better... make them all feel better.
He took the flowers from Rachel's unresisting hands. He knelt, arranging them into a decorative display, interweaving them with the bouquet Lizzy had placed the day before.
"I had never got the chance to say a proper farewell to Jack, Rachel." he began, squinting up, blocking his eyes from the early morning sun. The man absently switched the fragrant scents about, his interest elsewhere, "I had always meant to..."
A solid clink against the headstone caught Red's attention. He jerked his head to the sound, amazed to see a bright, shiny glint reflecting from the soft rays.
Elizabeth gasped, her hands lifting to her mouth, her eyes large with wonder.
Red tugged the end of the chain carefully for it was intertwined with the stems of the flowers. At length, he produced the glittering strand of rubies and diamonds, holding it aloft.
"Well, I'll be damned." the man shook his head with amazement.
Elizabeth quietly squealed her delight, rushing forward. Red had arisen, examining the piece. She slammed into his chest, her arms going about his neckline.
"That's lovely!" Rachel commented. "How did it ever get there?"
Red held Elizabeth tightly. "Guess Jack was watching over it for us."
Elizabeth's eyes shined with happiness. She turned about, lifting her hair.
Red placed the necklace about the woman's neck, clasping it securely.
Liz touched the heavy pendant reverently before lifting her arms yet again. "Thank you!" she whispered her joy. "Thank you for giving it back to me."
"I didn't." Red looked down, the name on the headstone emblazoned boldly in the morning light.
Liz laid her head on the man's shoulder, her arms clasped about his waist, under his jacket.
Rachel watched the pair, her eyes holding a deep, profound sadness.
"Don't wait."
Red shifted his gaze, having heard the whispered statement. Elizabeth sought Rachel out as well.
"Don't let anyone dictate what you should or shouldn't do." the woman inhaled shakily, her frail fingers grasping the headstone. "Do what feels right for you both. Don't give a damn what they say. "
Red liked the spunk displayed but the woman's eyes told another story.
"Tell them to mind their own damn business." Rachel's voice wavered with the need to weep.
"Are you all right?" Red stepped, his fingers gently tracing the side of her face. She grasped his hand tight, her pained eyes connecting with his.
"We waited," her head lowered, as if consulting Jack Reddington. Then she continued, her tone weary, "to get married because Jack didn't want to stir rumors."
She smiled wistfully. "When Jack asked, I was on cloud nine. I would have gone to the Registers office that very minute and he knew it but..." she sucked in a ragged breath, "our families said people would talk, say Jack had... you know." she motioned absently. "My family wanted the big wedding with all the fixings. A proper joining, they said."
Her fist clenched. "Jack waited... he did it for me because they said we should."
Liz clamped her lips together, feeling the woman's anguish so acutely, it hurt her heart.
"We could have had so many months... together." Rachel's words caught in her throat. "I should have told them all to go straight to hell!" she hissed her fury.
Red stepped forward, tugging Rachel into his embrace, holding her tightly, allowing her to cry out her heartache.
Liz crept into the small compact unit, embracing both participants. Red had lifted his arm to allow the move, not surprised in the least when Lizzy's sobs blended with Rachel's.
"P-Promise me, you won't w-wait." Rachel's fingers gripped Red's jacket front, her eyes beseeching them both. "That you will listen to your hearts and nothing else."
"You don't know him," Liz swiped at her cheeks, "or you'd know not to ask that," she forced a weak laugh, "that man is a force unto himself."
Red's features softened. He leaned to kiss Rachel's cheek. "Jack wouldn't want you in such a state." he was concerned. "If me being here has caused–"
"Oh, stop." Rachel shook her mood. "Seeing you has been the best tonic I could have hoped for. I'm fine." she breathed in deeply. "It's just... so good to see you again after so long."
Liz motioned shortly. A new arrival had come on scene. A tall man was approaching, a dark scowl on his handsome features.
Liz had seen those features before...
Rachel beckoned to the uniformed Marine. She heard Red's sharp intake of breath as the man came closer.
She cast narrowed eyes at him, "I'm assuming, from your reaction... they neglected to tell you."
"...Yes." Red's jaw pulsed.
Liz's mouth gaped.
The man was around Red's age... and the spitting image of Jackson Reddington.
"Mom? You okay?"
"I'm fine, son." Rachel hugged the man affectionately. "Jackson... meet your Uncle Ray."
"I know who he is mom." the Marine stated sheepishly but he offered his hand to Red. "I've heard a lot about you..." he mentioned, "not all of it good."
Red took the news well.
"I prefer to believe what mom says though," he looked down at the smaller woman. "She's never steered me wrong yet... on any subject."
"There's a little truth in any story, I suppose." Red knew the media loved to sensationalize.
"Where are you stationed, Marine?" Liz sensed Red needed more time... more privacy with Jackson's mother.
Jackson was all too pleased to turn his attention to a pretty girl... a fact Red did not miss.
Liz continued to hold the Marine's attention.
"Three months into Jack's tour," Rachel kept her voice low, confidential, she watched Jackson be charmed by the other woman, her smile a gentle one, " he took a seven day R&R in Hawaii. I met him and we got married as soon as his plane landed." she explained.
"Did Jack know." Red looked at the dashing Marine standing beside Lizzy.
"Yes." she nodded. "He got another break before..." she swallowed, "I flew out to see him against doctors advice." she flushed a little. "Women were coddled back then... ahh, for the good old days." she chuckled quietly.
"Oh, he knew." she smiled over at her son. "Jack was very excited. We were both looking forward to..." she trailed off.
She sighed at the lovely memory. "He quite swept me off my feet. It was a precious time, Raymond." she met his gaze squarely. "I've never regretted one second I had with that man and I never will. It's all I have of him."
"Not all." Red made mention.
"Are you jealous?" Rachel teased.
"Of a wet behind-the-ears pup?" Red closed the gap between he and Lizzy. "You done monopolizing my fiancée's time, Marine?"
The man reddened, and he hastily put a good deal of distance between himself and Liz who grinned infectiously, "Oh, I didn't mean anything, Sir. We were just–"
Red grinned, "I know, Jackson." he patted the well-formed shoulder comfortingly. "I just know us Reddington men and their penchant for brunettes."
"He has trouble of his own." Rachel lifted a hand to indicate a wad of people coming over the rise. "Well, there goes our private time with your father." she seemed resigned. "Jackson's wife and kids."
Red counted two little toddlers trying desperately to mount the small rise.
"I hate to cut this short..." the man apologized, "it was really nice to meet you." he stated.
"I can honestly say, it was great pleasure to meet you... Jackson." Red swallowed harshly before the man stepped back.
Jackson took off to offer assistance to his very pregnant wife.
Rachel turned, a serene smile gracing her face. "I wouldn't wish that tribe on my worst enemy and Jackson's wife..." she made a face, "she's a Yankee, just like you." she teased Red. "But more importantly, she prides herself on being up on the very latest 'trending' topics."
"She will know you on sight." Liz warned.
"Well, I do take a good picture if I do say so myself." Red was accustomed to being recognized and had long since found ways and methods to 'cope' with any given situation but he didn't want to cause any unnecessary scene with Rachel involved.
"If that's not Jackson Reddington bragging, I don't know what is." Rachel scowled slightly. "You have grown up just like him."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Red smiled watching Jackson Jr. chase his little two year old son about the grass. The Marine 'tackled' the tot, lifting him high in the air. The baby squealed his delight.
Jackson's wife was digging in her diaper bag, searching out sippy cups full of refreshing juices.
"He senses I need a moment." Rachel knew her son well. "He'll keep them at bay a few seconds more but that Angela is a nosy little so and so," she chuckled. "You need to ask me something?" she was an intuitive woman.
"Give you something." Red corrected, fishing in his wallet, recalling the hectic search of earlier. He extracted a neatly folded envelope. Although it had seen better days.
"This thing is brought out every year at this time..." Red apologized for the condition, handing it over to its rightful owner. "It's been all over the world, probably more places than Jack himself."
Rachel opened the contents carefully.
"Read it now or later." Red indicated the worn, faded print on the letter. "He wrote it before..." he trailed off, "it was in his things they sent.'
Rachel stared at the letter for a very long time. Her voice broke when she could finally speak.
"You don't know what this means to me."
"There is something else in the envelope." Red motioned.
The woman's eyes blinked as she automatically looked inside. A gleaming diamond band slid free of it's former resting place.
Rachel gasped breathlessly, lifting luminous eyes.
"Oh, Raymond..." she stared transfixed at the beautiful symbol, visions flashing in her mind's eye of a day long ago.
"Jack wanted you to have that." Red knew he would. "He wanted a life with you more than anything in this world."
It was eerie that he understood his Uncle so well... that there was a common ground between them.
Jack had needed Rachel.
And he needed Elizabeth.
Rachel continued to stare at the band her thoughts private, very much so.
"You gave it back... to the family." Red watched the woman's face carefully. "I thought, at first, it was because you could not forgive Jack for going back, for not coming home."
Rachel lifted startled eyes, "No!" she breathed out, dismayed. "No, never. A man has to do what he must to remain a man. I always understood that about Jack." she earnestly promised.
"I would never try to change him. He was fine... just the way he was." she stated proudly.
"Then... why?" Red already thought he knew the answer.
"Oh, Raymond... it's all water under the bridge." Rachel refused to hurt the man. "I've long since forgiven and forgotten."
A small defiant moment came into the woman's face. Rachel slipped the band on her finger, just as Jack had done some forty years ago.
"It still fits." she blinked back tears, that day suddenly crystal clear in her mind. "He was... handsome." she smiled. "And didn't he know it though." a chuckle came then a serene silence.
Rachel played with the ring, turning it this way and that.
"You were married but," Red remembered back, "after Jack died, you didn't come around any longer." That had hurt, he remembered that as well.
Rachel sensed where the conversation would lead. "I wanted to..." she placed her hand over the man's, the diamonds sparkling in the sun, "I wanted to see you so desperately, but..."
"What did he do?" Red hissed.
Elizabeth was surprised at the venom in the statement. She glanced over at Red. His jaw was tensing, rigid and unyielding, his eyes cold... filled with fury.
Rachel glanced at her son and his family. The toddlers sat quietly now, in the shade of a large oak. Jackson had his wife's shoes off, rubbing her feet.
Angela sat on a bench, arching her back to ease the aches of pregnancy.
"Your mother was excited for me and Jack." Rachel took another route. "Grace went shopping with me for a dress." her face clouded over. "He didn't like that."
"He didn't accept the marriage?" Red wasn't stupid, putting two and two together. "What the hell right–"
"Richard refused to recognize the marriage because it didn't take place in a church." Rachel laughed hollowly. "You know how forceful a personality he was... I guess the rest of the family just didn't want to make waves, but Grace..." Rachel chuckled, "Grace was a fireball if pushed into a corner. I think it caused a rift in their marriage. I never wanted that, Raymond." she promised.
"That's rich!" Red scoffed disgustedly. "As if Richard Reddington ever set foot inside a place of worship! How dare he–"
"Stop." Rachel insisted quietly. "Richard is... gone. He can't do anymore damage unless we allow it. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I understand it."
But Liz sensed, Red wasn't about to let any of his anger go as yet, if ever.
"Red." she stepped, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder only to find him shaking with barely controlled rage.
"On behalf of my mother and myself," Red smiled down at Rachel's concerned features needing to put her at ease once again, "I need to apologize for the lack of support and empathy that son of a bitch denied you and Jackson."
"It just isn't important anymore." Rachel touched his face gently.
"It's important," Red corrected, glad he could salvage a little something today for Rachel, "to me." he apologized, sincerely.
Rachel nodded, "Thank you, Raymond," she freed a bright smile, "for so very much..." the words escaped her.
"You're family, no matter what that bastard said." Red continued tightly. "Although why you would want to be associated with–"
"Are you serious?" Rachel quipped to lighten the mood. "I'm the 'be all and end all' at the Bridge Club Association because I can lay claim to the notorious Reddington name and lineage."
Red drew in a calming breath for the woman's sake, lifting his head slightly.
Jackson sat, rocking his little girl, looking down at the angelic face, his own so blissfully content.
"Your reputation has earned me a permanent place of immortality among my peers." Rachel teased. "You keep up the good work."
She hastily scribbled on the back of the envelope. "This is my number and address," the tip of her tongue flashed out as she wrote. Red smiled, remembering the habit from when he was a kid.
"I even have an email thingy." she handed the envelope back. "So that goes right back to where it was." she jabbed a finger at his wallet. "Only you better not just bring it out once a year."
Rachel lifted welcoming arms, embracing Elizabeth tightly, "You remember your promise to me, young lady."
Liz swallowed hard, nodding agreeably, "It was so very special meeting you."
"Well, of course it was." Rachel pulled herself together, sniffing gently. "I'm an important person in my neck of the woods, remember." she chuckled.
She hugged Liz again, "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so very happy to know Raymond has found someone to love."
Liz stiffened slightly, flushing a tad as her eyes met the man's.
"You take good care of her." Rachel gently pushed back. "Take care of each other... and you just better keep in contact with me."
She had turned on Red.
"Count on it."
"I will." she seemed satisfied. "If you don't, I'll turn you in myself, if only for visitation rights."
Red chuckled finally, "Yeah, you're family all right. Although most would do it for the reward."
Rachel kissed his cheeks, hugging him tightly, as if she did not wish to let go. "I love you, Raymond."
The man had not heard that particular sentiment in so very long a time. It touched him deeply.
Eventually Rachel transferred the emotions to Elizabeth.
Looking at the headstone lovingly, she kissed her fingers, laying them gently against the marble. "I love you, Jack."
Liz's lips trembled, hiding her face in Red's arm, clutching him tightly.
Rachel reluctantly took her leave. Red watched her steps as they took her further and further away.
Liz impulsively reached for Red's hand. She was happy when he embraced her tightly for a long beat.
"I hate that bastard." there was such bitterness, such vitriol emotion expelled in that one simple statement, that Liz was a little taken aback.
She leaned slightly, seeking out the man's gaze.
"Rachel was wrong." Red cast a lingering look. Rachel stopped as the hill sloped downward, offering one last wave.
Red automatically returned the gesture but his eyes were icy cold. "Richard Reddington can do damage... even from the grave."
He sought out the woman, "Elizabeth, I don't think..." he managed through gritted teeth, "I've ever hated anyone more than I do at this very moment."
Liz weighed her options, considering the topic was an important one. "Well, that is saying a bit, isn't it... coming from Red Reddington."
Red scowled darkly, the insult hitting home.
"To be on your bad side," she lifted cautious brows, "usually does not bode well."
The man was speechless and Liz felt cold when his arms dropped away.
She hastened to make her point. "Red, do you remember yesterday, with Tom?"
Red Reddington was reeling. Is that how the woman perceived him... still? As a cold blooded killer who removed everyone in his path who dared go against him in some fashion?
"Rachel was right." Liz persisted. It was taking everything she had to stand up to the man but she truly believed the truth would set Red free. "You have always shown me that we have choices in this life."
Red only half heard what was being said, to enmeshed in his own misery to concentrate fully.
"I made a choice yesterday, with Tom." she raised her chin high, proud of her accomplishment. "I think it was the right one."
Red's silence was unnerving.
"The world is a bad place at times, filled with crappy people," she continued undauntedly, "but Rachel and your mother had a sanctuary of sorts, don't you see?"
Red's brows furrowed drastically, for he wasn't following.
"And that was the love you and your Uncle surrounded them with." the woman smiled gently, her hand touching Red's cheek tenderly. "In the larger scheme of things, Richard Reddington meant so little because Rachel had her child that Jack had given her and your mother had... you."
Red was taken aback.
"Don't you get that?" Liz was astounded. "Your dad couldn't hurt them, he could never take away what you and Jack gave. It was a constant."
The tension had gone from the man's body. The ashen complexion was gradually replaced by the man's usual healthy glow.
"How the hell did you get so smart in such a short span of years." he muttered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes.
Liz relaxed visibly, "I had a fantastic support system... that gave me some invaluable insight when I needed it most." her eyes lifted to his. "If he were to give me advice on how to handle this situation," she baited, "I would heed it."
He smiled slowly, "So you're saying, oh, Wise One, that I should tell Richard Reddington metaphorically, of course, to go straight to hell and get the fuck out of my life?"
"He's probably already there." she crinkled her nose adorably. "Why waste more breath on the guy?"
Red actually laughed, his eyes filled with a tenderness not allowed before.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he had quietened considerably after a few seconds, however.
"I don't know cause we all know what a very bad boy you have been." she teased now hoping to lighten the mood.
But Red remained pensive, reaching down to trace along the top of Jack's headstone.
"Elizabeth," a dark scowl laced his brow, "you said earlier–"
"Red," the woman watched his features religiously, sensing his turmoil, "I try not to be so judgmental any longer. In the beginning..." she lifted resigned arms, "but being with you, seeing your world through different eyes. Now understanding, there are all sorts of grey shades to every situation that exists."
Red lifted solemn eyes.
"I look back on, well, hell... the last few weeks," she was stunned, "and think... so much has happened in such a short interval and... I was so naïve," she chuckled hollowly, "not that I am all that much smarter or savvy now, but..." she searched for the words.
Red listened patiently, so proud of the woman's growth, he could burst at this moment.
"I know the things you have had to do," it was her turn to hesitate, "your world is such a harsh, unrelenting, dangerous place. You had to adapt to survive." the blue eyes were troubled.
Red remained silent, his head turned slightly aside.
"I have a sneaky feeling I have only seen the tip of a very large, hideous iceberg." she did. "How can anyone possibly judge or condemn unless they have walked in your shoes? What would any one of us have done in similar circumstances?" she was stumped.
"It's so easy to stand on the sidelines and shout objections, opinions and beliefs but when Fate shoves your ass down into the trenches... what choices would someone truly make to survive?" the woman finished.
Red lifted his head, thinking back on all those choices he had been forced into.
"Jack would have made... other choices." the man knew all too well. "Better choices."
Elizabeth looked at the soft green grass covering the grave site.
"Would he?" she wasn't certain what led Red down this chosen path but she had to wonder at the validity of his statement.
"He was military through and through." Red had long since resigned himself to what his Uncle would think of the decisions made in Red's life.
"No matter the reason for my supposed act of treason," the man shook his head, his body taut, "Jack's rolling in his grave over my actions."
Liz remained silently contemplative.
"You don't know, Lizzy," Red had to face facts, "the things I've done in my life." he grew quiet again.
"I know you're a good man." she knew that much.
"Am I?" he laughed shortly. "Am I indeed." it was mused.
"Yes!" she snapped. "You damned well are and I'll tell you one thing, Red Reddington!" she would not hear anymore. "If anyone has a problem with that fact, including Jackson Reddington, let them come and face me!"
Red was pulled from his doldrums by the impassioned little spit-fire by his side.
"I'll set them straight and in short order!" Liz was certain. "What man hasn't done things in their lives they regret? Do you think he didn't come up against horrific decisions in the hell hole he was in?"
Red inadvertently shifted his eyes to the grave site.
The man took his time in reply, for in reality, he had none. Red stopped, turning slightly, seeking comfort.
It was a new sensation for the man. He was the one usually offering comfort.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the man's broad shoulders.
Red sagged gratefully against her, heaving a shudder.
The preceding day had taken a toll on the man, even if he thought he was coping.
Meeting Rachel... Jack's son.
Emotions collided and in Lizzy's warm embrace, he found an escape of sorts.
The woman took his weight, both physically and metaphorically.
"He knows, Red." Liz was certain somewhere, Jackson Reddington was looking down. "He understands."
Red closed his eyes, mortified to feel wetness building behind his lids. His arms tightened crushingly, his head dropping, his lips pressing into the cotton of her shirt.
He allowed himself to finally experience the heavy weight of grief he had carried for over forty years.
The man sobbed his anguish, the sound tearing Liz's heart from her chest.
Her own eyes filled with tears when she felt the wet warmth seep into her shoulder as Red unsuccessfully tried to muffle his release of sorrow.
He wept for all the men lost in this most hallow of places... for his own Uncle, for all the men he had personally known over the years... for the life taken from them.
Good men all.
He wept for the lives he had taken, for to do so scarred the man's soul even if some had deserved to die.
He wept for the life denied him, for his wife and child... a life never meant to be.
He wept for Jack... who would never have a life with Rachel and their son.
He bunched his fists tightly into the woman's clothing, lost in the agony and anguish gripping his mind.
He was so very grateful to feel the warmth and total acceptance, surrounded by loving arms.
Red Reddington had never felt so vulnerable but in the same instance... he had never felt so whole.