Focal Point

by Daniel Davies

(Lizzington) A dangerous serial killer targets Elizabeth Keen as the newest Blacklister hits too close to home for Red Reddington. She must rely on the one person her instincts tell her she can trust. Liz finds herself inexplicably drawn closer to the only man capable of protecting her from this insidious new threat. (Mature Content)

154. Deliverance

July 5th

Tucking the phone from sight, Liz lifted her arms until the back of her palms rested against the soft sheeting beneath her, craning her neck away from the knife at her throat.

"That's better..." Edward smirked, using the opening to skim his free hand up Liz's torso. The clammy feel of his skin touching her breast caused a growing nausea and disgust.

Images of training with Silas and Joe flooded Liz's mind at a dizzying pace, her heart hammering in her chest.

Glancing down at the blade's position, she swallowed hard before hastily gripping the man's wrist with her left hand, shoving the blade away, while instantly coming back to grip his thumb with her right hand, digging her fingers tight into the man's nerve endings.

Locking her elbows, she twisted her upper body hard, offsetting the man.

Grimacing his pain, Edward followed the awkward momentum, shifting his heavy weight as Liz twisted sharply at his wrist.

Jerking her knee upright between Edward's legs, his loosened slacks impeded her attempt.

Cursing her lack of direct hit, the glancing blow to the man's testicles, while painful, wasn't as disabling as she hoped. It was, however, enough to shove his cumbersome frame from her path.

Falling to her side, Edward grasped the bruised area of his groin, grunting his discomfort.

Running around the bed, Liz grabbed a glass vase, hurling it toward Edward's head. The heavy porcelain swiped his face, hitting the night stand beside him.

Jerking away from the pieces shattering in his face, Edward cursed his pain and anger just as a crystal ashtray hit him solidly in the neck, taking his breath away.

Hurriedly making her way to the door, Liz blindly grasped everything within reach, flinging them at the man... holding him at bay as she ran to open the portal to safety.

Grabbing the last item at her disposal, she felt a certain satisfaction as the decorative silver box hit the man square in the mouth, tearing his lip open.

Fumbling with the lock on the door, Liz cried out, her eyes stinging with tears when Edward once again grasped her hair, forcefully pulling her back into the recesses of the room.

"Let me go!" she growled her pain. Turning swiftly in his grasp, she flowed with the momentum, punching the full force of her fist into the man's temple.

Not exactly where she had hoped to land a blow, but it was enough to make the man stagger.

"You stupid bitch!" he snarled. His reflexes too fast and fueled by anger, flung her carelessly towards the bed.

Stumbling on a discarded pillow, Liz fell hard, gasping a vehement curse as her knees, then shoulder hit the solid, unforgiving floor, her teeth clacking together painfully.

"Settle down, you little cunt!" her attacker yanked his zipper, pulling his cock and balls free, massaging the sore flesh.

Struggling with the woman, he yanked painfully at her body, situating her beneath him, resting his weight on her legs.

"Fucking you will make me feel all better..." he hissed, stroking his aching groin.

Swiping a piece of cloth off the floor, he hastily wrapped the woman's wrists together, binding them tight.

"You're hurting me!" Liz winced as the fabric bit into her flesh, cutting off the blood flow.

Lashing out, she yanked her fists upward, connecting solidly with the underside of the prick's chin. The man's strangled grunt and spittle of blood dotting his mouth was so damned satisfying.

Fisting her hair in a unforgiving hold, Edward drew the woman to her knees, mindless of her yelp of pain.

"You probably like that kink shit," Edward grinned maliciously, "... I know I do!"

Glaring hatefully up at the man, Liz clenched her teeth defiantly. A sudden vision of biting the man where it hurt most flashed vividly in her mind. She prepared herself for that eventuality... rather hoping for a taste of blood should she be given the chance.

"Open your fucking mouth!" Edward bitched, nearly pulling the dark strands of her hair out by the roots.

Holding her position, she had a split second to brace herself against the punishing blow she knew would follow for her noncompliance.

Slapping the woman full-force, Edward made a hasty grab for the little bitch as she fell uncontrollably, unable to catch herself.

Biting her teeth hard into the man's hand, Liz clamped her jaw tight. Her stomach pitched, excitement coursing through her when the man bellowed his pain before he delivered a dizzying blow to her cheek.

"Red's gonna fucking kill you!" she snarled her rage, the tirade halted mid-word as the silk of Red's tie filled her mouth.

Well, if nothing else... the asshole wouldn't try to force anything oral on her.

Though her speech too garbled and muffled, she took a deep breath, delivering the most shrill and continuous scream possible... hopefully drawing the attention of neighboring rooms or passerby.

"Reddington can't help you now." Edward panted heavily, roughly pulling the makeshift gag further into Liz's mouth.

Liz winced painfully as the bastard caught some of her hair in his attempt, pulling the strands from her scalp.

The man, obviously recognizing something in her eyes, grinned maliciously. "Don't look so relieved... I'm gonna throat fuck you," the man pulled her head back sharply, hissing in her ear, "after I've broken you in."

Sheer, unadulterated rage filled her entire body... a tiny voice in her head reminding her such a fate would never happen, for Red would kill this fucker before that eventuality could ever materialize.

"Yes," Edward sounded supremely satisfied, "just imagining the look on Reddington's face when he finds you broken beyond repair... it's all the payment I need."

Liz scowled, the statement a confusing one.

"Watching Reddington's downfall, will be my just reward." Edward narrowed dark eyes, running his fingers over the prize between the woman's legs.

Grasping Liz's arm in a stinging hold, he yanked her from the floor, forcing her to the disheveled bed.

Fighting the rising bile in her throat, Liz looked for any opening... any opportunity to break away. Silas' words echoed in her brain.

Keep calm... think clearly.

If there was ever a time she wished for back-up; it was now. Come on, Red... where are you!

"This holds a certain appeal," stepping in behind her, Edward rubbed his crotch on the swell of her ass cheek, his intentions clear.

Images of her training sessions flashed by in rapid succession, sending a surge of energy pumping through Liz's veins.

Rearing her head back, she caught Edward on the bridge of his nose and crowed her delight as the satisfying crunch of his bones shattering echoed in her ears. What a damned gratifying sound that was; she grinned her triumph.

Shouting out for the unexpected hit, Edward grasped at the throbbing, stinging pain.

Swinging her bound fists, Liz balled them tight, striking the man's jaw full force. Edward reeled to the side, out of her immediate vicinity.

Rushing forward, she braced her arms on his slumped form, jamming her knee hard up into his solar plexus, stealing the breath from the bastard.

Stumbling backward from the vicious blow, Liz kicked out, ramming her heel into the man's kneecap... sending both tumbling to the floor.

Though tiring, the woman shook off the harsh landing and rolled to her knees, panting for air around the tie in her mouth.

Grabbing the lamp on the night stand, she yanked it from the wall, heaving it overhead.

Allowing all the rage, frustration and exhaustion she felt; she swung the heavy battering ram hoping to hit something vital... anything.

The heavy brass fell hard against the man's shoulder just as Edward kicked his leg out, catching her feet with his sturdy shin.

The swift hit swept Liz's feet out from beneath her, the ankles buckling to her weight. Falling downward, she hit the ground hard, groaning painfully.

Grimacing, she fought for a semblance of equilibrium, hoping like hell Red was on his way to offer assistance... when she wished for it most.

She held out vital hope.

---

Red sat, drinking his second tumbler of Scotch, impatiently listening to Louis drone on about shipping route territories.

Could this meeting be more terminally boring? The man doubted the fact.

Red contemplated snapping the speaker's neck with practiced ease. The thought brought a smile, if not contentment.

Red envied Mark's provided distraction. For the last half-hour, the young entrepreneur had been on the phone with his night manager jotting down a list of new arrivals.

Searching the room, Red moodily wished for even a small distraction... any distraction.

The slight vibration of his phone traveled up his arm, pulling his attention away from Mark and the tedious meeting. He grinned as, Hot Bunz Bakery, splashed across the caller ID screen.

Ah, his own little distraction was calling. Blessed be the saints who took pity on him.

"If you will excuse me," Red murmured his polite apologies to the men beside him, amused for the obvious envy they felt.

Flicking the phone open, his brow furrowed as he heard the muffled rustle of fabric.

"...Lizzy?" he cupped the phone to better hear the odd sounds it emitted. "Are you there?"

Red scowled over his shoulder, searching out Dembe, but he noted instead Mark approaching rapidly, hurrying his way, a dark glower on the man's handsome face.

"Hey," Mark grumbled, clearly annoyed by whatever information he must convey, "I gotta talk–"

Holding up a stilling hand, Red turned his head towards the sound of the phone, trying to decipher what was going on. He waved an urgent hand to Dembe, his senses tingling... something was amiss.

Cupping his hand around the mouthpiece, he directed the sound of his voice, "Lizz–"

"Let me go!"

Red jerked at the sound of Lizzy's angered voice screaming through the speaker.

He was on his way before he even realized as much with Mark's urgent call echoing in his ear...

"Red," Mark stressed, "Edward's here."

"You stupid bitch!"

Red startled, stopping in his tracks, as a deep masculine voice echoed over the line.

A jolt of panic surged through Red as he comprehended Mark's news and the voices crackling through the phone.

Edward was here...

Edward.

"Elizabeth!" Red bellowed into the phone, only to hear the struggle grow in volume. "Fuck!" he cursed vehemently, his senses reeling.

Turning to the distraction, all in the room fell silent, curious as to the developing problem.

Shifting wild, dangerous eyes to Dembe, Red yanked the door beside him open, slamming it into the wall in his haste. Bolting from the room, he barely heard multiple feet hitting the floor behind him... all hot on his heels.

"Settle down you little cunt," the vicious curse ran along Red's spine, chilling his blood, "... fucking you will make me feel all better."

"You fucker!" Red spat; his disgust, rage, dread and terror coloring the moment.

Increasing his speed across the smoke deck, Red glanced up, catching a glimpse of the darkened window of their bedroom.

The beautiful imagery of the curtains billowing in the breeze betrayed the horror occurring behind them.

Never had he felt so frustrated to be so near... but so damn far away. He wished for nothing more than the ability to transport himself to that spot this very instant in time.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Red's jaw tightened painfully as he heard what might have been fabric tearing... then Lizzy's pained cry.

"You're hurting me!"

"You probably like that kink shit... I know I do..."

Grabbing the ornate handles of the French doors, Red yanked the heavy wood, forcing the upper locks from their latches, breaking them free from the solid oak jamb.

"Open your fucking mouth!" The caustic statement almost stopped Red's heart.

"Red's gonna fucking kill you!"

"I'm coming, Lizzy... just hold on..." Red muttered tightly as he heard her screams of protest suddenly become garbled. "Fight, baby... you fucking fight!" he prayed ardently that she could.

He grimaced as the phone raked hard across whatever surface it lay, jumbling the sounds on the other end.

"I'm gonna throat fuck you..."

"Dear, God..." Red's fear, what terrified him most in the entire universe was happening in sickening, vivid reality.

He wasn't going to get to her in time. He wasn't going to be able to...

He wasn't there when Elizabeth needed him most...

Skidding on the slick marble floor, Red's feet hit the stairs, rushing up two at a time, desperation fueling his brain and body.

It felt like his whole world had slowed to a crawl, his body moving through thick molasses.

The more he listened to Lizzy's situation gain in urgency, the more he felt as if he were running through quicksand.

It seemed he'd been running for hours on end, the stairs steeper and ongoing... a never ending obstacle mounting in his path.

Racing down the long corridor, Red found a couple men ramming their bodies unsuccessfully against his locked door in a bid to gain entry.

"Get security!" one yelled, attempting to ram the door yet again.

"We heard a woman scream..." another informed the newly arriving group of men.

"Move!" Shoving the man aside, Red hastily slid the card through the slot, ramming the door open.

The sounds of Elizabeth's muffled struggles and Edward's berating voice filtered through the otherwise silent suite as Red bolted for the source.

Finding the doors locked, Red took a step back and kicked, breaking the barrier apart.

Then everything shifted to odd angles...

Almost at a snail's pace, the doors swung open, revealing the tattered remnants of the bedroom. Broken vases, strewn pillows, and overturned furniture littered the floor.

The terror Red felt vanished, replaced with a blinding rage so powerful, his vision went black as he focused on nothing but his target.

Red's fury raged deeper as he saw Edward standing over Elizabeth, his fist raised overhead.

The arm swung downward in a forceful, blurring arc... the backhanded fist connecting solidly with Elizabeth's delicate white flesh.

The resounding crack echoed around the room.

A fierce growl tore through Red's chest and throat as Elizabeth's head snapped to the side, silencing her yelp of pain before she fell limply to the floor in an uncontrolled slump.

Like a supernova, Red's rage flared incandescently when the woman's slight frame hit the ground in a brutal impact.

The need to sate his blood thirst crested when he saw the dark shadowing of abuse inflicted by the disgusting sadist, already marring her beautiful skin.

"I always get what I want." Edward panted, oblivious to another's presence, so caught up in his supposed victory, was the man.

Swiping the blood from his face, a diabolical smile of satisfaction curved his busted lips. Kneeling, Edward parted Liz's legs, grinning his exultation. The sight of blood on her creamy thighs slightly puzzled the man.

No matter, she'd be bleeding full-force by the time he finished with her.

The storm within Red erupted in an untamed and violent explosion when sight of the bastard's arousal and blood smeared on Elizabeth's thighs came into view.

Lining his cock up with the tight hole, Edward jerked his head about, noticing movement at his side. He grunted his surprise and shock as a tight claw grasped his neck in an unrelenting hold.

"You sick fucking son of a bitch!" Red grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and pant waist, pulling the sick fuck off Elizabeth's prone form.

Forcefully shoving the half-naked man, Red stalked after the bastard as Edward hit the wall, sending a shelf and its contents crashing down on his unprotected body.

Nearing the bloodied man, Red struck out, slamming his fist into Edward's face.

He felt a surge of pride when his knuckles didn't meet the resistance expected, but crushed bone.

"She got some of her own, I see... you fucking asshole!" he growled to himself, knowing Elizabeth inflicted injury on the bastard; none like he would exact... but it was no less gratifying.

Stalking over to the fallen man, Red grabbed a fist full of hair, yanking the prick off the ground.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" he seethed, shoving Edward, face first, into the balcony doors.

The decorative wood splintered with the force of Edward's impact, his head and hands shattering the glass in his wayward fall.

Crashing through the debris, the man landed on the concrete slab of the balcony with a loud smack. Shards of glass cut into his skin as he slid along the rough, textured surface.

Stomping over the fragmented remains of the doors, Red stepped on Edward, grinding the glass into the man's back.

Kicking the asshole's side with brute force, Red felt a surge of elation as the action produced a loud snap which echoed about the semi-enclosed balcony.

Kicking the bastard again, Edward curled into a fetal position, groaning his agony just as the full weight of Red's fist connected solidly with his jaw, just for good measure.

Pushing past the men blocking the doorway, Dembe and Francis rushed forward, where Liz lay unconscious and stone silent.

"The sheet," Dembe motioned, crouching beside Elizabeth, feeling her neck for a pulse. The man gently removed the gag from her mouth, stuffing the garment aside.

Francis' hands shook as he fumbled for the required item, hastily covering Lizzy, "Oh, God..." he choked as he noticed the woman's blood streaked thighs. "Dembe..." his frantic eyes searched the large man's face.

"She is just unconscious," Dembe nodded tightly, pulling the sheet more securely about Elizabeth's nude body. He peered closer at the darkening bruise on the side of her face. "She will be fine. Elizabeth is strong."

"Jesus Christ!" Mark hurriedly looked over the woman's visible injuries, his face ashen. Pulling his phone free, he scrolled through his numbers, "I'll get the doctor."

Grabbing a throw blanket, Francis situated it over his best-friend, tears stinging his eyes. "We're here, Lizzy... we're here." he soothed, mindless to the sound of Red's fists pummeling the enemy in the background.

"Get Security!" Mark snapped at an employee hovering behind the men who were first on scene and attempted to aid Elizabeth.

Grasping Mark's elbow, Francis scowled hard at his friend, "They better not try to stop Red!" he hissed the warning.

"I doubt very much Elizabeth wants..." Mark snarled his anger, only to halt the tirade, taking a steadying breath. "I want them to keep people out..." he clarified. "I hope Red makes the son-of-a-bitch suffer!" he snapped furiously, glancing at the ongoing battle.

"I hope Red kills the bastard," Ben narrowed his eyes, watching the viciousness of Red's attack with a certain satisfaction.

Reddington was trying his best to accommodate such a request...

Kneeling on Edward's chest, Red drove his fist violently and repeatedly into Edward's face.

The force of his arm following through created a sound reminiscent of ice covered branches giving way in the brittle silence of winter. If he closed his eyes, he would swear he could hear a loud pop followed by an ominous crackling that bit at the nerves.

Only this wasn't a branch impacting against snow covered leaves below... but a punishing fist punching through thick bone until there was nothing but the subtle sound of brittle shards splintering further under layers of flesh and muscle.

Grasping a handful of Edward's neck, Red's unyielding fingers curved about the man's windpipe in a crushing hold. Pulling the blood covered prick close, his murderous eyes locked on the bloodshot ones looking back at him.

"Elizabeth is mine!" Red spit in the man's face, pushing in on the man's Adam's apple until the veins in Edward's head bulged.

"No one touches what is mine!" Red hissed, driving his free fist into the man's already bleeding eye socket. "No one harms what is mine!"

Gasping for air, Edward weakly jabbed the knife still clutched in his hand towards Red.

Catching the arm mid-swing, Red twisted it awkwardly until Edward dropped the blade. Following through with the movement, Red pushed against the resistance offered... until he felt the vibrating tickle of bone snapping shoot up his arm.

Leaning further into the break, he hissed victoriously as Edward screamed out in pain...

Just like his Lizzy had.

Dropping the offending appendage, Red stomped it beneath his heavy foot.

"You're gonna die!" he seethed through clenched teeth, his objective clear and focused.

Delivering a series of violent blows, Red felt the continued sensation of bone giving way... and realized he didn't know if it was on his end or not. He couldn't tell and couldn't find it in himself to care.

It didn't matter, nothing mattered but killing the man beneath him.

If he had to beat Edward to death to achieve that goal... he was more than fine with that.

One would have thought, due to the emotional and physical distress, he would have exhausted himself by now... but continued delivering solid, punishing blows which left Edward's face nearly unrecognizable.

If he had his way, it would be impossible to identify Edward Costa using ordinary means when all was said and done.

Gurgling, Edward fought to pry Reddington's fingers from his neck... to no avail. His eyes felt as if they would pop from their sockets due to the pressure and lack of air.

Readjusting his stance for better impact, the metallic scrape of the knife drew Red's sharp and immediate attention. It was right there within reach, a voice inside his head screamed... pick it up.

Grabbing the loose weapon, Red drew back, intent on offering a fatal blow.

"Raymond!" Dembe's voice shouted its warning, shocking him... stopping him.

His arm locked in place, his head turning sharply seeking the source of the interference.

Blinking repeatedly, he focused on Dembe's blurry shape until he materialized through the dark, oppressive haze.

"I'm going to make an example out of this fucker!" Red breathed harshly, readjusting his grip on the hilt of the knife in his hand, vowing his statement. "When I'm finished... no one will dare touch–"

"You need questions answered." Dembe stated the blunt reminder.

Red's chest heaved its exertion, his tightly coiled body shook with the strain of holding back.

Grasping Edward's hair in his fist, Red demanded the man's attention, glaring hate filled eyes down at the bastard's distorted features.

Swollen beyond recognition, the man's face was a series of splits and cuts oozing freely.

It was an extremely gratifying sight which to look upon... though it did very little in the way of calming Red's desire to kill the son-of-a-bitch.

"Apparently, I need a few questions answered," Red breathed harshly. "You have a momentary reprieve... and I do mean, momentary."

Squinting through the blood filling his eye, Edward grunted, trying and failing to dislodge the heavy weight pressing against his chest.

"Let's go back to the beginning," Red suggested, his fingers holding firm to the bastard's throat.

"I didn't understand at first how your affiliation with Victor and Carlos warranted Carver's attention..." he applied more weight to the Edward's chest, narrowing his eyes viciously.

"Carver?" Mark caught Dembe's attention, the name instilling revulsion and interest.

Ignoring the men behind him, Red refocused on the problem at hand.

"Now, I think I understand," Red worked the problem quickly, "why the lunatic is so determined to gut you... why he's hunted you with such tenacity."

Never in Red's life had he felt such loathing animosity for another human being... until this moment.

More than anything in the world, he sincerely wished to skin the bastard alive himself.

What an utterly satisfying feat that would be...

Whoever sent Carver, felt the same blinding rage Red did and wanted Edward to pay for his crimes... slowly.

This was personal.

Red could think of only a few crimes so heinous, someone would wish...

His fingers tightened around Edward's throat. "You did this to someone else... didn't you?"

Staring sightlessly overhead, Edward remained silent, just trying to get breath down his fractured body.

"Who?" Red hissed. "Whose loved one did you hurt so badly... they want your flesh stripped from your body... besides me, of course?" his thumb tightened on the fucker's windpipe.

Clenching his teeth, Edward breathed roughly through his nose, then choked as blood filled his throat.

"You're awfully quiet," Red gritted angrily. "Can't think of one person?" his eyes darkened dangerously. "Or is it just too fucking many to count?"

Grabbing the man's broken arm, Red bent it carelessly, deaf to Edward's scream of pain.

"You'll tell me what I want to know," Red clenched the man's hand, snapping the fingers backwards until they let loose. The Edward's agonized yelp did Red's heart good.

The vibration of the fingers snapping like matchsticks tickled Red's palm, the sensation one of which Edward was not privy to at the moment.

"Or I'll give them what they want," Red shoved the blade under the flesh of the man's arm, dragging it upward, "...free of charge."

Slamming his head back against the cement beneath him, Edward screamed through clenched teeth, sending bloodied spittle all over Red's vest.

Dembe stood stoically behind Raymond, an indifferent look on his placid face. Normally, after breaking a few appendages, he hoped any victim would talk and get it over with. And most did.

Glancing at the battered and bloody woman behind him, Dembe realized those feelings were absent in this instance.

This man... this monster, he could suffer the indignity of a prolonged torture session.

Edward stared back at the eyes that were completely void of any sort of emotion, the feeling an unsettling one.

"Y-You weren't supposed to come back for hours," he managed between gasps for air and the haze of incredulous pain.

He expected to find anger, rage, hatred... even sorrow.

But Reddington looked through him as if he wasn't even there, or wouldn't be the moment he told the man what he wanted to know.

"I did though... didn't I." Red's brittle tone chilled the room. "...Surprise."

It was an odd, disturbing sensation to know... Reddington viewed him as nothing more than a messenger.

A messenger who was already good as dead.

Frantically fighting past the pain inundating his body, Edward scrambled for a way to salvage this situation... but more importantly, his life.

He shook hard as the blade cut through skin, muscle and nerves before Reddington flicked the knife, yanking it carelessly through his flesh. He wept freely, unabashedly, all to no avail.

"My God," Red breathed his exhilaration, "that was incredibly therapeutic." Edwards's despair fell on deaf ears.

"Doesn't matter, gonna kill me anyway." Edward slurred, consciousness floating in and out.

"Ah, he speaks so eloquently." Red's hoarse voice sounded empty and hollow. "I don't have to kill you..." his mouth pinched into a tight line. "Give me the information I want... we'll see how things progress."

There was little chance of Edward being granted a reprieve, and both men knew it. The balance of power fluctuated dangerously as Edward weighed his options.

Stall too long and risk aggravating Reddington further... he died.

Move too quickly and not give Reddington time to cool down... he died. It was a woman, for God's sake, just a woman. Surely Reddington would see reason in time.

"Who hates you enough to hire that psychotic bastard?" Red wanted to know. "Who had the opportunity?"

"We are business partners," Edward coughed, spitting on the floor, grasping at logical straws, "...you've extracted your pound of flesh, surely."

Red's eye ticked as he listened to the flippant tone and demeanor. Bending the wrist in his grasp, he snapped it backwards without hesitation... leaving it hanging in an awkward, unnatural angle.

Edward screamed his shock and dismay.

"Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?" Red's muscles twitched erratically, fighting the growing desire to just slit the asshole's throat.

The thought niggled heavily in his mind there was a significant possibility when the news spread about Edward's demise... the person who had hired Carver may step up and thank him for dispatching this piece of trash.

While it was very much in question if the risk was worth taking, considering Dembe's sound advice... Red was about at the end of his patience with this situation.

He wanted Elizabeth in his arms... right now.

"I would tell you the story of the time I broke my wrist," Red forced a lightness he didn't feel one iota, "but I have other things I want to be doing. So we'll be moving right along."

Taking hold of the man's uninjured arm, Red leaned his weight into it. "Start holding my interest... I'm getting bored."

Clenching his jaw, Edward looked away as Reddington did as threatened and displaced the man's elbow.

Screaming his pain, Edward gulped for air around the cascade of tears, sucking in ragged, shaky breaths.

"Fuck you..." Edward panted, sweat rolling into his eyes.

"When I find out who is behind the hit on your worthless head," Red's voice lowered menacingly, "I'm going to supply a detailed account of what happened here tonight." the idea was an appealing one. "Francis... you recording this."

Francis glanced nervously at Ben and Mark, unsure whether Red was being sarcastic or not. He, for one, did not wish to be on Red's bad side... ever.

"That alone may bring a certain peace of mind," Red knew, "knowing justice was served, so to speak. You are worth more dead... than alive."

Pulling the gun at his waist free, Red fired, sending a bullet tearing through the man's shoulder.

Red's already stony gaze went frigid as the man yelled his agony.

Edward could have sworn he felt the zigzag pattern the piercing projectile took through his body before shooting through his upper back

"You'll give me what I want, you fucking bastard." Red hissed, leaning his weight into the gaping wound. "I don't care what I have to do. You'll tell me what I want to know... I always get what I want." he repeated the words back deliberately.

The low, pained sound of Lizzy stirring in the background drew Red's attention immediately, refocusing his intent.

Aiming the weapon at Edward's crotch, he cocked the hammer as the man desperately tried to move back.

"...Wait," Edward gulped frantically. "For G-God's sake..."

"I'm supposed to forget the pain and torture you were ready to inflict on Elizabeth," Red snarled his disdain, "... now that it's your genitalia in jeopardy?"

"I'll tell you," Edward grimaced. "I..I will talk."

"I know you will," Red shook his head disgustedly.

Edward breathed a sigh as Reddington holstered his weapon, at least avoiding that outcome.

"Talk..." Red, noticing the look of relief on the man's face, scoffed his derision.

Grasping the man's dick, Red quickly clutched the knife in his hand, placing it against the base of Edward's penis.

"Think you're home free?" he leaned into the moment, pressure applied. "...Think again." his tone dripped disdain.

"I... I have done this before," Edward hastily began the sordid, disgusting tale, "...a few times."

Red slid into the delicate flesh of the man's testicles, but only enough to cause all present to turn a ghastly gray with the realization of the outcome of Red's action.

Edward screamed out names, "Maria Santos, Sophia Carter, Emily Baker..." terror filled his eyes, "...don't do it, Reddington."

Red's face registered... nothing. No sympathy, no shock, no patience...

"Nicole Reynolds, Amy Reese..." Edward hastily placated, more than willing to buy time now.

Red jerked his head about as Ben gasped behind them; the young man's eyes wide, shocked... and murderous. Ben's normally tanned features leeched of color as his fists clenched tightly at his side.

Ben knew this Amy Reese, that much was certain. But Red had other priorities at present.

"And Elizabeth?" Red swallowed hard, gathering his composure.

Edward peered at Reddington, blinking past the blood running from his eyes. "You know how it is, right..." the man coughed, spitting blood on the floor, "a man has certain... needs, that's all."

Pushing against the soft flesh of the man's dick, Red snarled as the blade cut into the tender skin.

"It doesn't mean anything!" Edward stiffened. "Other than that..."

"And my Elizabeth?" Red hissed, pushing the blade tighter against the flesh in his hand.

Grimacing, Edward choked on the blood pouring down his throat. "She is so beautiful. I...I was captivated, that's all." he lied tremulously. "It's really a compliment, of sorts..."

Blood trickled down the blade as Red moved it slowly back and forth. "A compliment? A fucking... compliment!" he enunciated the words.

"Yes," Edward groaned as he felt the skin give way, tearing slightly. "That's all it w-was."

Just thinking of the man touching Elizabeth was enough to make Red sick. As he glanced down and saw the physical evidence of that touch in the way of her blood, coating the fucker's hand...

"You're fucking dead!" Red fumed.

Red reacted... instinct taking over.

He viciously slapped Edward's hand against the concrete floor, the blade plunging through flesh and bone... taking Edward's fingers off before the man could even blink, let alone protest.

Blinking his shock as he watched his fingers being severed from his body, Edward's stomach gave way, expelling his pain and fear.

The agonizing garble of incoherent disbelief mingled with a choked attempt at some sort of sanity.

Before he could think, the blade was back against his dick.

"Let me guess," Red gritted through his teeth, "you wanted to show her what a real man could do for her, huh?"

Men like Edward, with their overblown egos and ideas of masculine superiority, were nothing but fucking trouble. Women were nothing but playthings, trash to be used and discarded whenever new prey became available.

It took men like Red, to take them down a notch... to stop them in their tracks. Which is exactly what he planned to do.

"I can help you achieve that goal," Red offered coldly, "I'm gonna take the fucking thing off and give it to Elizabeth in a box... I bet that would please her immensely."

Francis grimaced at the idea, closing his eyes tightly, but otherwise, offered no discouragement from acting on the threat. "God, I hope he gives a little warning," he murmured sotto voce to Ben, who stood rigid, watching the drama unfold.

"A silver-plated, velvet lined box!" Red punctuated the threat, pushing hard against the flesh in his hand.

"I didn't touch her!" Edward choked once more. "Not like that! You have to stop now!"

While the relief Red felt was indescribable, those feelings would have to be placed on hold... as the actual problem had yet to be dealt with accordingly.

"After all damage you've caused," Red glared hatefully at the man crying; limp and defeated on the floor, "I can't wrap my head around the fact... no one has stopped you."

The pain and trepidation which had been hovering in the background tickled Red's senses, giving him just a modicum of the emotions others before him experienced.

"Or maybe I can," Red seethed. "Your victims, and those who loved them were so caught up in their pain and trying to fix what you had so unforgivably broken... the wound you created festered, and the only relief for their suffering was to hire Carver to return the favor in kind."

A light went off overhead, a clarity Red hadn't expected took shape. Shaking away the thought, for now, Red focused on the problem.

"I'm not them." he stressed. "I see a problem before me... I handle that problem"

As his eyes were swollen shut and his arms broken and useless, Edward could only lie there and listen to Reddington... and hear the pure venom in the man's voice and ponder his future... or lack of one.

"Where does one start to mend such wounds?" Red voiced his outlook on life. "You caused the pain... the unfathomable suffering, therefore, you are the problem."

"Reddington," Michael stepped in behind Red, keeping his tone cool and even.

"This isn't your concern, Michael!" Red snapped icily.

"My wife could have been counted among this fucker's victims, by the grace of God... she wasn't." Michael disagreed. "Which is why I have to ask for your sanity, if nothing else, is this what Elizabeth would want?"

Red took the moment to ponder that question seriously. Considering who Lizzy was, it was a legitimate question.

But Elizabeth also knew... Red would kill Edward for touching her. She even warned the man of the outcome during her fight. Red had heard those very words out of her own mouth.

She knew, and accepted what Red was... what he could be, if necessity called. She also knew he would seek vengeance for the damages done.

Elizabeth knew...

"I think this is exactly what Elizabeth would want," Red assured as he watched Edward's uncontrollably shaking body withered about under his unrelenting gaze.

"How this asshole feels right now, is how every one of them felt." Red couldn't help but point out the obvious. "Did he show them any mercy?"

"...Please," Edward begged quietly, understanding the words, "...I-I won't hurt anyone again, not ever again.."

"I know you won't," Red stated it as a fact he knew without question, "because you're going to be pissing out of a tube. Look away, Francis."

The men in the room felt a frisson of stunned astonishment, and overwhelming respect, as they comprehended not just Reddington's words... but his manner.

Reddington was well within his rights to seek vengeance for the crime against his lover...and other countless women.

This punishment was warranted.

"Oh, Jesus," Francis grimaced... but didn't look away. To do so, felt dishonorable to Elizabeth.

Disregarding the pleading man, Red pushed the blade through Edward's flesh quickly and without hesitation, ignoring the violently sobbing and screaming man.

Forcing his stiff fingers open from their iron grip, Red dropped the remnants of Edward's severed appendage carelessly amid the broken glass and cold patio tiles.

Pushing off the ground, Red stepped over the bleeding, broken man, catching himself on the doorjamb. Taking a breath, he stepped forward, bracing himself on Dembe's shoulder.

"Get him the fuck out of here." the man's raw, pain filled voice rasped.

Grabbing a blanket off the bed, Dembe stepped past Raymond, more than ready to dispose of the trash laying on the floor.

Nearing Elizabeth, Red stumbled as he saw the tattered remains of clothing and the room itself... his fingers reflexively curving about the hilt of the knife.

He trembled with the effort to not kill the man outright. It wasn't enough the bastard would most likely bleed out. He wanted Edward dead... right now.

He wanted to feel the man's flesh give way as he pushed the slim blade he held, deep into the man's chest... directly into Edward's cold, unfeeling heart.

Why he hesitated to do so was beyond his comprehension... for he truly didn't believe Elizabeth wouldn't object.

"Watch out!" Mark warned frantically, pushing Dembe away from the danger the man witnessed developing.

Red turned his head in time to see Ben raise his arm... and the jerk of a weapon firing in slow motion over and over.

"She was everything, you son of a bitch!" Ben snarled his fury. "Everything! She was... my world!"

Edward's still body jerked as the bullets penetrated his flesh until the metallic click of the empty chamber signaled the moment ended.

The room fell abnormally silent.

Each individual stared at the young man's grim features.

Staring blankly at Edward Costa's bullet-ridden body, Red checked on Dembe's welfare, the large man was well and functioning.

All stared indifferently at the spectacle.

Stepping forward, Dembe gingerly took the gun from Ben's hand, handing it to Mark.

Turning away from the others, Red's eye ticked as Ben struck out, driving his fist so hard into the wall... Red heard the snap of his fingers, wincing slightly for the pain the boy must be feeling.

Red's eyes tracked the others path as they moved around Ben's unyielding form to converge on Edward's body, carelessly wrapping it in the blanket provided without a word.

"Who is she?" Red muttered tiredly. "Amy Reese...?"

Ben remained silent so long, Red thought the boy would not reply.

"She just stopped speaking to me. I thought I had done something..." Ben shook his head, pressing his forehead hard into the wall. "She was my fiancée. I didn't know..." he broke off, his eyes filled with strain and regret. "How could I not... know?" he lifted haunted eyes.

"I am sorry, Ben." Red hung his head, shaking it despondently. "More than I can ever express..."

Dembe stepped to Ben's side, patting the man's shoulder. Red eyes shifted to the balcony, relieved he wasn't the one being silently escorted from the room... as broken as Ben appeared to be.

Not as broken... but damn near close.

Standing in the silence of the room, he looked down at the bloody knife in his hand, tossing it angrily aside. He heard it skitter across the pavement of the balcony before settling, silent.

Red approached Francis, who was sitting silently, keeping vigil over Elizabeth.

"She's been in and out," Francis's brow furrowed as he pushed Liz's hair back, showing Red the darkening bruise on her temple. "I hope I was right to move her..." he questioned his decisions now. "She was just so cold down there I couldn't..."

Francis kicked the tattered remains of Red's ties from sight, grimacing.

"It's all right," Red assured, for he too would have done the same thing. He knelt beside the woman, his gaze a gentle one.

"We should have watched out for her..." Francis apologized, his tone a listless one.

"I should have..." Red amended, fighting the warring anger inside.

"How the hell did something like this happen?" The entire event stunned Francis. "This is a place of safety... for everyone!"

Mark stuck his head back around the corner, "Francis, a moment if you can."

Waving a dismissive hand, Francis gripped Red's forearm. "Lizzy's strong..." he looked around the room, "she held her own against that fucker... she's going to be okay."

Smoothing a hand over the dark bruise on the small face, Red nodded slowly.

"Let's get through tonight," Francis suggested, "and worry about the rest later." he squeezed Red's arm, then headed out to assist Mark.

Tucking the sheet more securely around Lizzy's body, Red's eyes jerked towards the sound of a light tapping on the door.

"What is it?" Red called out, his tiredness suddenly giving way to exhaustion.

"Raymond, I have the doctor." Dembe said, gesturing Doctor Lister in behind him.

The man stepped around Dembe's large bulk, his attention focused squarely on his patient.

"If you need me..." Dembe said, closing the door behind him.

"Lay it out for me?" Dr. Lister said, rifling through his bag.

Dutifully, Red recounted events as he knew them; watching the doctor's every move.

"Her pupils are equal and reactive," the physician dropped his penlight in his pocket, then grasped Liz's wrist, taking vital signs the old-fashioned way. "I don't believe she has a concussion," he told the truth.

"Why hasn't she come to?" Red frowned, just then realizing twenty minutes had passed since his arrival.

"Honestly?" Lister looped his stethoscope around his neck, "I believe she senses you... she knows she's safe and can rest."

Gently feeling his way along Liz's arms and legs, the physician hesitated as he moved the sheet up over her knees.

"Is she pregnant?" Lister broached the subject less than tactfully.

"It is," Red's eyes lowered, "...was... a possibility, I suppose."

Pulling the sheet back down, Lister made note in his book before locking eyes with Red's.

"I'll be frank, if there is a possibility Elizabeth was... assaulted," Lister stood upright, "I will not perform an examination without her consent." he stressed, preparing himself for an argument. "There are procedures which should be observed... I don't believe I'm qualified..."

Running his fingers through her dark hair, Red tenderly rubbed Lizzy's scalp, his jaw clenching painfully.

"Elizabeth will wake soon," Red trailed off, the thought of what awaited when she did wake after everything else she had been through upset him greatly, "... let her rest. She can decide later."

"Raymond," Dembe unobtrusively stood at the door having opened the portal slightly after a discrete tap, "they have prepared another room for your use, should you wish to vacate."

Glancing about the area, Red took in the full scope of the damage surrounding them. While he knew Elizabeth had inflicted much of the chaos herself, the damage he caused was more extensive.

Aside from the shattered French doors, blood and other bodily fluids Edward expelled hung heavy in the air.

Elizabeth should not stay here... not at all.

He glanced at the bed distastefully, the bed in which they shared so much love...

"Yes, Dembe... I want the room. We'll be just a moment." Red said, looking down at the peaceful woman once more. "Can she be moved?"

Lister closed his bag, "I found no breaks or major contusions of any kind." The guy glanced about as well. "Get her out of this hellhole."

The man pulled a card free, handing it to Red. "Once you get relocated... if Elizabeth is in need of my services, I will be downstairs in the dining room."

"Thank you, Lister," Red took the card, shoving it in his pocket as the man took his leave.

Grabbing his wallet and phone, Red gestured Dembe inside, "Dembe, could you enlist a bellboy to–"

"It will be taken care of, Raymond," Dembe assured his friend. He grabbed a bag, heading to the bathroom without another word.

"Thank you, Dembe..." Red felt a little tension in his shoulders ease, knowing his friend had his back... as always.

Wrapping the sheet more securely around the woman, Red pulled Lizzy to the edge of the bed, lifting her securely against his chest.

He needed to feel her close. He needed to know she was safe in his arms... feel the warmth of her body, hear her soft breathing.

He did not want her to see this room.

"Would you like me to assist you?" Dembe enquired, slinging the heavy bag on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," Red muttered, tightening his arms about Lizzy's small frame.

Making his way across the room, he stepped over glass and other debris, the crunching sound under his heavy footfall a grating one.

Stepping out behind Dembe, he found Mark waiting on the other side... gesturing the way.

"I have one room at the end of the hall," Mark pointed, "or the top floor..."

"This will be fine," Red said quietly, heading to the new location indicated. "Thank you, Mark."

Walking down the hall, Red noticed the gathered throng. Most of the men were his and Lizzy's friends... some business associates, one in particular, caught his eye.

Reddington nodded his gratitude to those who were there to offer aid. He singled out one man.

"I want to talk to you." Red stated quietly, garnering Daniel Courtland's attention.

Falling in step with them, Danny silently took in Red's bloodied form, and the bruised and battered brunette bundled up in the man's arms.

Rounding the bend, Red saw Francis standing at their door, holding it open. Backing out of the way, he held the door wide for Red to get through with his passenger.

"Thank you, Francis." Red nodded, before walking to the couch, laying Elizabeth down.

Sitting beside the woman, he tenderly brushed her hair back, softly calling her name until she stirred.

A soft moan preceded consciousness. The blue eyes fluttered, fighting awareness for a long beat.

Gently tugging on the restraints on her wrists free, Red crushed the scarf in his hand until Francis took it from his grasp, throwing it in the trash.

"It's okay, baby... I'm here." Red reassured. "Open your eyes...it's over."

The woman was too peaceful where she was, however...

"She's all right, Red... focus on right now." Francis felt for his friend.

"Is she, Francis." Red whispered angrily as he massaged her tiny hands, working the blood back into the pale flesh.

"Edward didn't..." Francis swallowed, unable to say the words, "he said he didn't..."

"What would you say if someone was threatening to cut your dick off?" Red rasped harshly. "Someone you knew, without a doubt, would go through with it."

"Red..." Francis sighed sadly. "You got here there in time... I know you did."

"Did I? I don't think so..." Red canted his head, his eyes vacant.

"Why would you say that?" Francis was loathe to even consider the possibility.

"There's fucking blood on her thighs, Francis." Red curled his fists into the couch, breathing through his anger. "What else can it be?"

Francis wracked his brain, a dozen ideas coming to mind, but if Red was questioning the obvious choices...

"Elizabeth, wake up." Red leaned, gently stroking her face.

"Hmm?" She groaned, her eyes fluttering open slightly once more.

"Baby..." Red crooned softly, tenderly brushing his fingers over her brow, "you have to wake up now."

Groaning painfully, Liz heard the quiet murmur of a man's voice... and a tug on her wrists.

She gasped raspingly, yanking them away from the large hands encompassing hers, her terror-filled eyes flying open, her hands balling into tight fists, ready to strike out.

Gently placing his hands against hers, Red stopped the intended hit, murmuring soothingly to the woman as he tucked the sheet more securely around her breasts.

"...Easy," he muttered quietly, "it's just me... you're safe."

Liz quietened, her senses settling in time. She breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief.

"Did you kill him?" she grimaced, rubbing her aching arm, recognizing the familiar, beloved face staring at her so intently.

"Did that bastard... hurt you?" Red ignored the question; more important things on his mind.

"I think... I might have landed on my arm?" Liz squeezed her forearm to ease the throbbing pain. "It hurts..."

"Did he hurt you?" Red gently palmed her face, tenderly stroking the bruising, his stare intense, his features grim.

"No..." she hesitantly noted the others standing off to the side now, "... he... no." she closed her eyes, resting her cheek in his palm.

"Dammit," he braced his arm on the couch, aligning their eyes, "are you telling me the truth?" he murmured quietly.

Reaching for the man, Liz shook her head before burrowing into Red's chest, clutching at his jacket to gain further connectivity.

Slamming his eyes shut, Red ran a soothing hand down the bare expanse of Lizzy's back, cradling her head in his palm.

Nuzzling his nose into her neckline, he breathed in her scent to control his anger and fear only... her scent wasn't the only one present.

He tried to control a rising rage which ran so deep...

Snapping his attention to his left, Red glared dangerously as he took notice of movement beside him.

Francis hastily lifted his hands, dropping the ice pack Dembe handed him. "Sorry..." the man replied calmly, "does she need this?" he indicated the discarded object.

Red stilled the woman as she attempted to rise, "...No, wait." his focus shifted rapidly, concern outweighing the rage.

"I'm all right," she murmured tiredly.

"We need a few moments," he sighed heavily, asking for all to vacate.

Liz settled back, the cold draft of air hitting her back stirred her senses. She was naked beneath the sheet. Her cheeks flushed as she remained stalwartly still, avoiding all eyes.

The men filed quickly from the room.

Taking a breath, Red sat upright, taking the woman into his arms.

"Red, I can walk." Liz was positive.

"I'm getting you in the shower," he hooked his arms under her legs, securing the sheet in his wake.

"Shower?" Liz sighed, tiredly resting her head against the man's shoulder.

Red seethed. "I can smell that prick on you and it's pissing me off."

Liz settled, seeing reason to his words now. "Yes, a shower would be helpful."

Familiar with the layout of the room, Red made his way to the bathroom, kicking the door closed behind them.

Easing Lizzy's feet to the floor, he steadied the woman before reaching for the light. Turning about, he found her wrapped in the sheet, standing in the middle of the room... her face vacant.

Hurriedly unloading the bag Dembe packed, Red set the containers in the shower then turned the water on to warm. Popping the buttons on his vest and shirt, he pulled the bloodied garments overhead, dropping them carelessly to the floor.

"Do you need privacy?" he hesitated uncharacteristically.

Liz shook her head in the negative, needing him near.

Guiding the woman forward, Red gingerly took the sheet, gesturing her to proceed him.

Divesting himself of his shoes and slacks, he hesitated, leaving the boxers in place.

Just as he reached for their towels, he heard the distinct pop of Lizzy opening her shampoo, she stared long and hard at the creamy liquid before... the tears began.

Dropping the towels on the bench, the man stepped cautiously in behind the woman. "...Elizabeth?"

"I'm okay," she sighed, "just tired, achy... over emotional." she dropped her face, sobbing into the warm wash cloth she held. "I hate t-this!"

Red held still, wanting so badly to wrap the woman in his arms... though was well aware his touch would most likely be unwelcome.

The sight of her slim shoulders shaking tore at his already aching heart. The emotional upheaval both felt, demanded he do something.

"I don't know..." he faltered, "...what you need me to do... what you need from me." he told the truth.

Turning about, Liz stepped herself, collapsing into Red's chest. Resting against his bulk, she closed her eyes, feeling the ever present comfort of Red's presence.

Snuggling closer in his hold, she relaxed as the heated water beat down on them, soothing the turmoil.

Running his hand down her back, Red kissed the crown of her head, focused on nothing but how blessed he felt to have her safe in his arms.

Squeezing a generous amount of her shampoo into his palm, Red smoothed it over her long dark hair, working up a sudsing lather. Moving them under the heated spray, he filtered his fingers through the long strands until her hair rinsed clear.

"Do you want the doctor?" he asked, working her conditioner through the soft, dark strands, his heart breaking for the vulnerability he witnessed.

Flexing her fingers, arms and legs; she half-smiled. "It's not a doctor I need."

"How can I help?" he frowned his concern.

"You're here," she answered honestly. "That's all I need." the quiet came. "I'm a little sore." she eased her muscles about. "I'm tired."

She had every right to be, if anyone asked him. If the state of their room had been any indication, Elizabeth put up a hell of a battle.

"You broke his fucking nose," the bitterness was acidic in nature. "Silas will be pleased."

Like her tenacity to go for the neck, he had a feeling broken noses were going to become synonymous with Elizabeth Keen's warrior mode. The fact delighted him.

"I'm so proud of you, Lizzy," he soaped a cloth, running it over her arms and back. "Baby, you are my role model... if not hero." he teased lightly.

Handing her the cloth, he stepped back to allow her freedom to maneuver and rid herself of the last of her exertions.

Instead of the air being filled with the soft, delicate scent of vanilla and shea... the mellow aroma of almonds and rum of his soap enveloped the pair.

He silently wondered, had he inadvertently grabbed his personal bottle out of reflex, or was he erasing Edward's scent and replacing it with his own?

A Freudian moment if there ever was one.

Whatever the case... it was working to temper his mood. The more he smelled himself on Elizabeth, the calmer he became.

Elizabeth didn't seem to mind, moving the soapy cloth about her body languidly, luxuriating in the scent herself.

Rinsing the cloth, she soaped it once more... stroking it absently across Red's chest and abdomen.

Standing perfectly still, Red hid the shock he felt.

"...Lizzy," his voice lowered, his eyes softening on the woman.

"You asked what I needed." she silenced his quiet protest, cleaning him of the blood which seeped through his shirt onto his flesh.

Running the soapy cloth down his arms, Liz's brows furrowed when she saw the condition of Red's hands. His unnaturally crooked fingers and knuckles oozed blood from the deep cuts and gashes.

"It's all right," he cupped her small face, kissing her sad mouth without conscious thought.

Stiffening, he abruptly pulled away, grimacing for the error. "I'm sorry, sweetheart... I don't know what I was thinking..."

"It's okay," she hastily assured. "You," she hugged herself close to Red's warmth, "... you are my normal."

He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but was relieved she hadn't seemed upset by his blunder.

He needed to make mental note; in the blink of an eye, their world shifted on its axis and both would need to find their balance... if one was to be found, that is.

If he was to approach Elizabeth, it would need to be on her terms, especially over the next couple days.

Grasping her hand, Red rubbed a gentle finger over her ring, his thoughts swirling by in a dizzying maelstrom.

The sight of the dark maroon blood swirling down the drain shifted Red's attention sharply to his upmost concern at this time.

Closing his eyes, he rapidly counted the days since Lizzy's last period; breathing a sigh of relief, his worst fears slowly subsiding.

It was her natural blood... she was supposed to do this.

That fucker had not penetrated the woman. Elizabeth had not been harmed... at least physically.

Emotionally? Was another matter.

Apparently, it wasn't bad enough Lizzy had just endured an attack at the hands of a psychotic asshole.

No, life had to throw this wrinkle at her as well?

Nature was a cruel mistress...

Logically he knew Lizzy was accustom to the monthly occurrence almost all women experienced, and paid it no never mind, for the most part.

But Red despised the idea that while she was already emotionally overwrought... nature decided to take its course, adding to that emotional strain.

Simply... the woman had a tendency to become very emotional during her period.

Even before becoming romantically involved with Elizabeth, Red quickly grew to adore and embrace Elizabeth's rapid-fire mood swings... especially when directed at him.

It amused the man, her high spirits.

Where some people might think he was recalling their time at work when Lizzy directed her frustration, anger and discontent his way... they would be wrong. She had a right to feel those things after facing the challenges they did on a daily basis.

The job they undertook was a dangerous... stressful one.

Even now, after the surreal events of this evening, were she to vent her frustrations to him, it would be more than understandable.

Red thought back on the beginning of their relationship.

It was in their off-time he realized their relationship had shifted to something... deeper.

He had held deep affection for Elizabeth long before their first year of working drew to a close.

Relying on closing the end of a case as an excuse, Red recalled setting about coaxing Elizabeth to meet in more social settings to relax and enjoy coffee, if not a meal. Most days, she appeared to enjoy the quiet setting and delicious repasts.

Red would study the woman's moods... her reaction to things and people, her surroundings.

Everything about her interested him, even then.

Mostly, he found Lizzy to be courteous, attentive to others, she could be kind but she refused to suffer fools easily.

These traits stayed true to form most days... until that dreaded time of the month rolled around, of course, and that was when things got truly interesting.

If by chance, or God's divine intervention... Samar's time apparently happened to coincide with Elizabeth's.

Towers crumbled, the earth shook... men scattered.

Red, on the other hand, made a point of turning up at the Blacksite on those wondrous days.

Frowning upon this little quirk, Red noted Dembe always checked his weapon before the metal grate of the elevator slid open.

Explaining the idiosyncrasy of his, Dembe related he always checked the reliability of his old companion before entering a combat zone.

Red accused his friend of getting soft... of forsaking that wonderful sense of adventure which made life so worthwhile.

Dembe accused him of being a sadist.

Red didn't put much credence in the accusation.

He preferred to think of himself as... whimsical.

There seemed nothing whimsical about Elizabeth Keen's mood that particular morning, as Red recalled.

He rubbed his hands briskly in anticipation of a fine, productive day... at least in his version of the word, wishing the woman a cheery...

"Good morning!"

Elizabeth's dark scowl of annoyance stopped his forced lightness in its tracks.

He managed a straight face and a polite...

"Something amiss?"

Which only garnered yet another short, abrupt glare before Elizabeth marched off in search of her much needed caffeine.

Red felt as giddy as a school boy about to dip some unsuspecting girl's pig-tails in the inkwell.

He shared the fact with Dembe who lifted a questionable brow, moving to another section of the spacious layout; out of the direct line of fire.

Red had formulated a plan... he was certain of its eventual success if he was patient enough and diabolically clever... Red Reddington was both.

It took less than sixty-seconds for Elizabeth Keen to reach her boiling point... color Red impressed, to say the least.

"Will you stop that incessant pounding!" the woman's low, seething tone exploded, halting Cooper's dissertation on the latest Blacklister Red had delivered just the day before.

All the men gathered started visibly at the unexpected outburst, all except Red, of course, who had instigated the coup.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?" Ressler had spilled his coffee onto his new freshly polished shoes, a critical scowl on the boyishly handsome face as he not so politely inquired of his colleague's interruption.

"You," she glared venomously at the red-headed agent, "don't even think about my panties."

Red carefully held his expression as Donald jerked back as if scalded, slapped and spit upon.

He strained to contain his delight as the joy in his life, turned her ire where it needed to be... directly his way.

Elizabeth jabbed an accusing finger, her gaze like a fiery inferno. "You keep tapping that pencil repeatedly, over and over and over on that coffee cup!"

All eyes sought out the source of her vexation.

Red managed an innocent look. "Did I... was I? Oh, sorry." he carefully laid the offending instrument aside, ignoring Dembe's melodramatic sigh from behind his back.

Elizabeth calmed her frayed nerves as best she was able. "It's... okay, just... if you could not do that."

"Of course, sweetheart." Red was solicitous to a fault.

Cooper, just as cautiously, resumed his intel session with but one mini-frown Red's way.

Samar nodded solidarity to a frazzled Elizabeth as one female sought solace from another.

Samar understood... all was fine.

Until... Red started a deliberate, concentrated 'tap' of the heel of his shoe.

One which Elizabeth immediately zeroed in on.

As Red knew she possibly would.

"You're doing it again!" she blatantly accused, her tone a little shrill to be honest.

Red spread innocent hands, indicating the discarded pencil was no where near his vicinity.

"Your foot! Your foot!" Liz showed everyone the problem. "You're doing it on purpose!"

Samar sent the man a, you better not be, look.

Red laughed the accusation politely aside. "I swear... I don't know what you're talking about."

Elizabeth's pretty features crumbled, tears threatening. "I'm sorry!" she hastily, contritely apologized. "I'm sorry... I don't know..."

Red's heart thumped heavily in his chest for he had never witnessed such a stunning, enrapturing sight of a woman scorned. Elizabeth was just... beautiful.

"Really?!" Samar arose, coming to the aid of the floundering co-worker, her mood short and to the point as the dark eyes glared at the object of her disdain. "You men make me sick! Especially you!" Red was singled out.

She helped Elizabeth to her feet. "Come on, Liz, let's go have some tea... get away from these idiots for a while."

She dared Cooper to object to the plan... which he did not.

The silence was telling as all men turned an accusing eye Red's way.

"What?" he defended the moment, once again ignoring Dembe's telling expression and even heavier sigh. "What'd I do?"

Cooper joined Dembe in the sigh department, "Obviously, Agent Keen..."

"And Agent Navabi," Aram was aghast by Samar's behavior, stunned by it.

"Are under the weather today," the Director had done this before, it was all old news to the married man. "We will proceed accordingly." he cast Red yet another unsavory look. "You just had to provoke her this particular morning?"

"What?" Red spread his hands, chuckling his most sincere proclamation of innocence. "Really...?" he shook his head wonderingly.

Even Ressler wasn't fooled that time though. "There's something disturbingly wrong with you, man." was his considered opinion.

Okay, Red would admit it... he had his foibles.

But in the end, those precious little moments that he lived for proved something to the man.

Elizabeth felt comfortable and safe enough to allow Red to see that side of her...for the occurrences came like clock-work and all directed at him; secure in the knowledge he would accept and rationalize where no rational thought could ever apply.

He cherished that intimacy with Elizabeth so very much.

Just as Samar had, Red now rolled with the punches allowing Elizabeth the freedom to vent her frustrations and be what her body dictated without guilt or recriminations.

Not that Red never purposely pushed her buttons at that time... he did, but that was yet another facet of their ever revolving courtship.

A different shift entered their relationship, one in Red's opinion, brought them infinitely closer.

Red believed it was the little things in a marriage or relationship that tipped the scale good or bad.

Elizabeth allowed him his whimsical eccentricities, he repaid her by solicitous attention.

The menstrual cycle brought many hazards for the normal, unsuspecting partner.

It took no time to run a steaming bath, or better still, offer over an intimate back rub when the nasty cramps caused pain.

Often, the few minutes showing the woman one sympathized, at least... was trying to understand, meant the most.

Such small gestures often netted large rewards.

Though that is not why Red administered to Elizabeth's needs.

It was true, at least in the woman's case, the movement of their love-making relaxed Lizzy like nothing else. She was also extremely erotic at that time.

The release of endorphins was a wonderful thing...

All Red knew was that he reaped the benefits of a sexually charged female he adored.

But now... there was a noticeable division between them. One Red could not traverse, brought on by that fucker Edward Costa.

Red was loathe to even dare touch the woman, least he bring on some repressed trauma.

So, he stood, uncertain what do or not do.

He did know, he would give anything to feel that vexation from Elizabeth again at this moment, rather than Elizabeth face the torment she experienced now.

He hoped, in time, she would come to him and vent however she needed.

He settled for planting a tender, yet lingering kiss on her forehead, offering her a warm smile. "...I'll let you have a few moments."

Backing away slowly, he stroked a gentle hand along her apple cheek. "I'll get us some clothes... take your time." he said, before retreating from the shower.

Frowning her confusion, Liz stood still under the heated spray, her thoughts stagnant... until she noted the streaks running down her legs, the sight an annoyance.

She suddenly appreciated Red's respect of her privacy. The small gesture gave her back a sense of control she needed.

Mechanically scrubbing her legs, Liz washed the blood away, fighting the threatening tears. So much happened in such a short amount of time... everything floated in a surreal moment.

Focusing on her task, she set aside all thoughts for a moment, allowing the tears to come, for whatever she was experiencing... the release was a cathartic one.

Hesitating in his steps, Red listened to the quiet sounds of Lizzy's crying, his heart constricting painfully.

Curling his fists tight, he took a steadying breath, cooling his temper. His first instinct was to find the one who caused the suffering, but remembered there was no need.

The emotions inundating him at the moment were strange and disconcerting and unfamiliar.

Edward was dead... though it brought little solace at this moment.

In the past, he would have killed the man and moved on, knowing the problem had been rectified. Was that his problem?

Had he become so accustom to delivering swift, instant justice all these years... he was missing the swift and instant gratification that came along with that?

What a damned, disturbing thought.

Shifting his eyes to the sound of Lizzy sniffling, that surge of anger that had begun to taper flared once more... he needed that bastard back, that he could inflict even more damage than he had.

Elizabeth was hurting and there was nothing he could do but allow the pain.

He felt powerless, helpless... ineffectual.

For men like Red Reddington... they sought tangible solutions to quickly rectify a problem. To stand here, to have to listen to Elizabeth's tears...

While patience was never his strongest point, he resolved to tap into that reserve more in the following days than ever before.

Intellectually, Red knew it was all he could do. Stand by and allow matters to take their natural course. He would have to fight a natural instinct to do more.

Dembe... his friend, would help achieve the balance Red needed.

Opening the door, he silently thanked his friend and comrade. A pile of clothes and Lizzy's robe patiently waited to be found.

Grabbing the clothes provided, Red hastily dressed, directing his attention once more to the shower.

"Lizzy, your clothes are on the basin." he said, laying the garments carefully aside.

He mentally relaxed for the tears had subsided.

"I'll be back in a minute." he called out, placing the robe on a provided hook outside the shower.

Grabbing his blood-stained clothes and the discarded sheet from earlier, he shoved them in a convenient trash bag. A discrete tap caught his attention. Red crossed to the door of the suite.

"You're clothing has been delivered," Dembe said. "The contents of your safe and some minor personal affects are all that remain to be moved here."

"I'll handle it tomorrow," Red nodded his thanks to his friend and the departing staff members lining neat racks of clothing on the opposite wall.

Gesturing to the main room, Red eased the door closed, stepping out into the hall, tossing the bag aside.

Francis and Danny waited patiently for the staff members to clear the corridor.

When Red was certain they were out of ear-shot, he addressed the men.

"We have some work to do." he leaned against the wall, the support welcomed. "Thank you for sticking around, Daniel... your assistance will speed matters along."

"No damned way I wasn't gonna help out, if I could." the young man shook his head. "God, Red, I can't tell you how bad I feel for... what went down. Is Elizabeth... is she coping?"

Red offered a non-committal shrug, his face wiping of expression.

"Elizabeth is a strong woman." Dembe replied.

"Yeah, everyone keeps saying that." Red rubbed weary eyes, damning the doubt he heard in his own voice.

Was he doubting her... or himself?

"Listen... did anyone get a list of all the names the bastard was spouting?" Red directed attention where he needed it most.

Dembe pulled out his ever present notebook. "It is a long list, Raymond. How very sad."

Red nodded solemnly. "I was too pissed to recall them all." he admitted. "But I need to locate each and every one."

"I'm on it," Danny volunteered, glancing at Dembe's book.

"I will make a copy." Dembe stated quietly.

"What about me?" Francis stepped up.

Red scowled, "There was one name," the man pushed himself upright, "did I hear correctly, Dembe? Alicia Bennett?"

"Our Canadian liaison..." Francis concurred with the large man as Dembe perused the list, a grim expression on his face. "Explains why she's dropped off the map these past months."

"We've let them down, gentlemen." Red had to admit his failings, sick-at-heart to be doing so. "These women... we let that sick son-of-a-bitch prey on them. We've done nothing to even the score. We've allowed it to go on and..."

Each man present felt the burden of shame and guilt implied.

"How the hell can we justify our actions... or rather inactions to them?" Red shook his head. "How do we make up for something so heinous? How do we fix that colossal error in judgement?"

He searched the faces of his contemporaries with anxious, attentive eyes.

"We can not." Dembe realized. "What we can do is inform the victims that revenge has been extracted... assure them the abuse has been stopped. That no other woman will suffer the degradation Edward Costa inflicted."

"I can set up a network of professional assistance." Francis offered. "Counseling, medical... support groups." he was floundering. "I'll find out what can be done... and do it."

"It's a fucking start," Red noted. "But first, we have to let them know the problem is being... has been addressed."

"I'll find them, Red." Daniel was confident.

Red nodded his gratitude. "Antonio, Mark... I," he was livid, "should have seen it. How the hell could we have missed the signs?"

He, of course, heard rumors Edward was a lech... a womanizer, if you will. But the same description could be applied to many men he met throughout his life.

There was Mitchell, whom Red met in bootcamp, that hooked up with a new girl every weekend. Or even Silas, after Anya died... the man went through a plethora of women to mute his grief.

Neither one though would dare harm a woman. In fact, both men went out of their way to beat the hell out of men who didn't take no for an answer, before they saw to escort ladies safely home.

"He was just a creepy bastard," Francis tried half-heartedly to justify the unjustifiable. "We deal with creepy bastards on a daily basis... it's par for the course."

"I still don't understand why none of them stepped up... turned on that fucker?" Danny voiced his confusion. "We would have handled it... handled him. Don't they trust us to do so?"

"Evidently not." Dembe stated quietly.

"Would you?" Francis countered seriously. "After what they went through?"

Danny sighed woefully, nodding, "You're right...good point."

"We'll ask that question... and find a solution," Red determined. "This will not happen again."

All nodded their acquiescence.

"It was a woman," Dembe had been thinking, obviously.

"...Not following?" Danny admitted.

"A woman hired Carver to dispatch Edward."

Red nodded slowly, "...Yes, I came to the same conclusion."

"One of his victims?" Francis was impressed.

"Or someone who loved them?" Danny liked the idea. "What balls, man. Good for them!"

All quietly contemplated the revelation.

"This woman is my spirit-animal," Francis approved. "If you're going to hire a hit, do it with style, I say."

"She managed what we couldn't do... collectively." Red allowed his respect.

"She'll be pissed at us," Danny reminded, "Carver would have done a much more thorough job of it."

"We'll blame it on Ben," Francis decided. "Anyway, the asshole is dead... and Red didn't do to bad, if you ask me. He made the prick suffer," he shrugged, "pardon the pun." he winced slightly, then brightened. "She'll like that part."

"I know I did," Red's face was suddenly placid, his eyes empty... tired.

"You should check on Elizabeth," Dembe ended the meeting. "We all have jobs to do."

"Tell Lizzy I'll give her one of my blow-up aliens," Francis was sincere. "It'll cheer her up."

Danny sighed, offering his hand. "Take care of her, Red. She seems like a special lady."

Red nodded. "She is, thank you."

He felt blessed to be surrounded by such men. He watched them take their leave before reentering the room.

In turning the knob, Red remembered his three broken fingers. He would get Dembe to set and wrap them... momentarily.

First, he needed to check on Elizabeth and how she was fairing.

Lizzy was peering intently into the bathroom mirror, examining her bruises and other noticeable injuries.

Red stopped at the doorway, taking in the small figure.

She had donned pajamas... a first, and warm fuzzy socks. The robe hung open, showing her attire.

"That fucker..." the woman sensed Red's presence, her eyes seeking him in the mirror. "This is going to look great with my new dinner gown."

"A black eye gives a person character," Red tried a lightness he didn't feel.

Liz turned her face this way and that, the soft hair swaying silkily with the action. "You think?"

"It'll be a conversation starter," Red strained to offer a smile.

Liz scoffed a chuckle. "I'm always stuck for one of those." she admitted. "You gotta admit, this," she waved a hand to her face, "is more interesting than remarking on the weather."

"Lizzy, the doctor is just..." Red broached the subject dear to his heart.

"No, Red," the woman groaned, "no doctor. I'm...I'm okay. Really," she turned, "I ache, my wrist is...a little iffy, but not tonight. I'll go tomorrow if it's not better, I promise."

Nodding reluctantly, Red let the matter drop. "Are you tired?"

She laughed hollowly. "Just a tad bit, yeah."

"Stupid question," Red admitted his failings, hands in proverbial pockets.

Red rushed to pull back the covers, careful not to touch the woman as Lizzy padded to the bed.

Crawling into the plush blankets, Liz sighed her relief. "What a day..."

Red stifled a responding chuckle for her wit. "Well... yeah." he sat on the edge of the bed. "I can get some ice for that eye."

She shook her head. "I'll wear it proudly."

He stood, looking down at the woman.

"Where are you going?" she arose hastily, feeling him move away.

Blue eyes met wide, fearful ones.

"My fingers," he blurted, pulling his hand free from his pocket with a painful wince, "I thought maybe Dembe could..."

Liz relaxed visibly. "Oh... oh, shit, Red. I'm sorry, I forgot," she grimaced for the oversight, "of course, please... call Dembe."

The man did so, speaking briefly into the phone before ringing off.

He sought the woman, "I won't leave this room." he reassured, "Dembe can fix them right here, okay?"

"I'm sorry, I..." she swallowed hard, "I'm being–"

"Stop," Red demanded, "just... don't."

The woman slowly slid back into the covers, her fingers tightly coiled on the latter.

The room seemed abnormally quiet.

"Did you kill him?" the blue eyes darted to Red's face. "Is he dead?"

"...Yes," Red replied succinctly.

Liz's eyes fluttered shut, a sigh of relief escaping her pent-up body. "...Okay."

"It will even out, Lizzy," he promised, "... in time."

Nodding, she snuggled further into the pillow and blankets. "Just wanted to make sure you upheld my end of a promise made..." she muttered, punching her pillow into submission.

Before Red could respond to the statement, Dembe arrived with the needed supplies.

Red winced painfully when Dembe lifted his hand without warning, peering closely at the damage.

Steadying himself, Red tightened his jaw as Dembe took hold of his hand, pulling at the askew fingers until they were aligned.

"You handled that better than last time," Dembe noted the lack of cursing.

"I'm too tired to give a damn," Red grunted softly, his vision wavering as Dembe taped them together.

"I'm sure that's the reason," Dembe gave his friend a small smile, tossing the tape in his bag. "Wish Elizabeth a good evening, for me."

"Thank you, Dembe," Red nodded to his friend, allowing his gratitude. "For everything..."

Giving his friend a small smile in return, Dembe closed the door behind him... effectively shutting out the world.

Leaning back into the sofa, Red took a moment to gather his wits and energy for what lay ahead. Pushing off the couch, he locked the door and shut down the lights... heading for the master bedroom.

He glanced at his bandaged fingers absently, finding his way to the woman.

Liz smiled gently up at him.

"I don't know what to say to you."

"What do you mean?"

Red took his time, struggling with the words. "I try to give you the best protection money can buy. Silas," he shrugged, "Mark has exemplary security..."

Liz sighed, "Oh, for goodness sake." she shook her head. "Shit happens, Red. No one can plan life. I'm fine... or I will be," she reached a hand out from under the blankets. "You came. Just like I knew you would. I am... fine."

Red sat on the side of the bed. "I'm not sure I am." he told the truth.

She ran a hand down his side.

The quiet came.

"Get your clothes off, come to bed." the woman once again rubbed his back, his muscles a tense, coiled mass.

"I should," another thought struck, "someone should check on Ben."

"Ben?" Elizabeth was puzzled.

"I'll explain later," Red sought his phone. "I'll have Francis stop in... they're close."

Elizabeth let it go.

"I'll only be a second." Red headed for the racks Dembe had wheeled into the outer room, donning light-weight pajama bottoms.

He hastily grabbed a t-shirt as a second thought and was back with the woman in record time.

Her eyes opened upon his return.

Red motioned, going to brush his teeth.

He hesitated even more so upon his return, he gaze falling on the small bundle in the large bed.

"I.." he offered, not sure what the woman's preferences would be, in truth, "I can take the couch... if you would rather. I'll leave the door open."

"Come to bed, Red." Liz's gentle voice filtered back over her shoulder.

The man moved forward, feeling awkward.

He settled under the covers, at length, releasing the breath he'd been holding. Resting his head on his bent arm, he watched the rise and fall of Lizzy's breathing.

"I knew you would come," she broke the heavy silence.

"Don't ever doubt that, Elizabeth." he replied softly.

The woman shifted, fitting her body to the cradle of his own.

Red tensed, then forced himself to relax... her warmth both welcomed and cherished.

The man closed his eyes, relief flooding his system when she further took his hand, guiding it about her waist.

"Francis offered one of his inflatable aliens," Red made mention, striving for something to fill the moment, "... the purple one. He thought it would make you feel better."

Elizabeth turned in the man's arms, the floodgates opening... finally.

Red endured the moment, discombobulated thoughts bombarding his brain.

He held the woman, offering the only comfort he could. At length the soul-shaking sobs subsided, the woman yawned sleepily, then in seconds it seemed, her breathing lapsed into an even rhythm.

Red tried to shut his mind off, but there was too many what-ifs... too much tension still churning in his gut.

Lizzy's closeness helped tremendously, but it also reminded him of just how dear she was to his very existence.

What if he had not arrived in time?

What if...

Red shook the dread, focusing on the woman's breathing.

He did come... she was safe.

She was here, in his arms.

Red closed his eyes, praying for guidance... wisdom... praying he would find a way to never allow something like this near Elizabeth again.

It was near dawn and the man still found himself awake... and praying.

---

Author Notes: CookieSprinkles, I was going to PM you, but couldn't. :( I was going to suggest, you might try Focal Point: Condensed Version. I'm told the story moves along at a faster pace and is more compact. :) Chapters 37-40 will also be content not included in the full-length version. :D

I wish I could give my email on here, but it won't let me. If anyone does need to reach me, you can go to my profile on Archive of Our Own and my email is available. :)