"I know I have no control, but if you could wake up today, I would really appreciate it," Liz said sitting on the side of Ressler's hospital bed holding the hand of the man she could not bear to leave.

Ressler lay comatose, hooked up to machines, tubes and wires keeping him alive for the time being. It had been several weeks since his leg surgery and the doctors said the shock of the accident mixed with the surgery and all his other injuries, not to mention the extensive blood loss, had forced his body into survival mode and landed him in this coma.

Thanks to Liz's quick thinking in the car, her belt tourniquet had held off his blood loss long enough to get him to the hospital and then her blood donation had saved him during surgery. She didn't think keeping score was important at this point, having such a huge lead and all, but as it stood it was: Liz 5, Ressler 2.

She smiled to herself relishing in getting to tell him that if he woke up. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. The past few weeks had been mental and emotional torture pacing Ressler's room, watching him sleep, waiting and waiting and waiting for him to maybe wake up. He had to wake up. She could never forgive herself if he didn't. She was the reason he was lying here. She put him in this position and for what? She still hadn't finished her mission; she still hadn't told Ressler the truth either. Lies, she was living in a world of lies and had become one herself. Who was she anymore? She was the daughter of Raymond Reddington, a widow, a criminal, a fugitive, a disgraced former FBI agent in training. But not to him.

Ressler saw her for who she truly was. He saw through her façade and was willing to trust her despite her unlawful appearance and allegiance. He was special. He was the answer. He would get her out. He would save her from herself. If only he could just wake up. She hated admitting it because Red always said to never get attached. Attachment leads to weakness, weakness leads to vulnerabilities, vulnerabilities lead to death. She couldn't help herself from feeling the way she did. She missed that part of her former life.

She was barely hanging on anymore. She had escaped the FBI once again, thanks to Aram. A man she had never met. Curious as that was, she was again on the run as a fugitive. Aram must have staged a convincing diversion because she got out hassle free. After Liz used Aram's phone to call Red, she ditched the phone and met his team at the pickup location. Red then wanted to get her out of town as fast as possible, but there was still a loose end to deal with, Ressler.

The doctors said his surgery was a success, however the days after would be very telling after everything he went through. The problem was he never came back after surgery. The FBI searched every inch of the hospital, Ressler was never found. Turns out Reddington had paid off the surgical nursing staff to not deliver him back to his room after surgery. They informed the FBI guards that Ressler had died on the table and then escorted a "dead body" to the morgue. Ressler's body was smuggled out of the hospital where he was then set to be interrogated by Red and most likely killed for his betrayal.

Hard to interrogate or torture a man who was unconscious and soon to be in a coma. Too bad for Ressler, Red did not have the patience to wait for him to wake up. No one betrayed Raymond Reddington and lived to talk about it. That's when Liz stepped in.

"You can't kill him," she said.

"The hell I can't. He's a lousy traitor," said Red fuming at his inability to threaten an unconscious person.

"He didn't betray us. If he hadn't told the FBI you were there, the FBI would have assumed he was a traitor. They'd kick him to the curb and your inside man would be useless." Liz made a reasonable case.

"He also could have told us he was going to tell them so we wouldn't be ambushed."

"Maybe he knew he didn't have to, you did have him under surveillance after all," said Liz.

"Secret surveillance," Red said.

"He's not an idiot. You would never have chosen him to be your mole if he was incompetent. He probably knew if he was working for you, he would be being watched. He did have you under surveillance for years as well." Red hated arguing with his daughter. She was smart, which made him proud, but she was also stubborn sticking her nose into his personal business. She liked this FBI agent merely out of fascination for her former life and this cat and mouse game or maybe it was something more. He didn't know for certain, but she was right. "Don't you think it would be worth your time to talk to him when he wakes up, instead of killing him and burning a perfectly good source?"

"You know Lizzie, sometimes I wonder if I will have a legacy after I am gone, if my business will survive. It's moments like this that I can rest easy knowing I have a perfectly capable heir to the criminal throne." Red beamed with pride wrapping Liz in a hug.

"We make a great team," Liz says in their embrace.

"I'll try to believe that and not that you have ulterior motives with your FBI fascination."

Liz smiled, "Got keep our enemies close right?"

"Talk to him I will. Whether or not that is the last conversation he has, will be determined by what he has to say." Liz gave him a half smile but thanked him for his generosity. "Dembe, make sure the jet is fueled. We need to get Lizzie and her fed off the grid for a while."

Red made some calls and soon after medically comatose Ressler, a few nurses, Dembe, and Liz flew to an undisclosed rehabilitation center. Liz was not given exact flight plans, though she surmised by the landscape and duration of the flight that they were somewhere in the middle of the Alps, maybe Switzerland. Red registered them under amused names and Dembe was ordered to keep an eye on them.

Now that Liz thought about it, she saved Ressler again, at least for a little while longer. An updated score would be Liz 6, Ressler 2. He'd better wake up soon or he'd never be able to catch up. She cupped his face in her hand rubbing her thumb across his cheek. She closed he eyes pleading with whatever god would listen to her. He had to wake up, she needed to talk to him. She needed him.

When she opened her eyes, his eyes met hers.