Chapter One
Our Old Friend, Death
It seemed like everyone around him was dying.
As Raymond Reddington sat on the bench in the busy park of a city he'd called home for nearly his whole life, he observed the world around him. People milled around him, oblivious to his attention upon them, unwavering until the bitter end. Families with teenagers who wanted to be anywhere but hanging out with their parents; others with small children who took in the wonder of nature around them, fascinated and in awe of the sights and sounds, albeit a little unsure of the strangers roaming around them; friends who were enjoying a catch up or even bidding goodbye until the next time they saw each other; and those who were alone, who sat on identical benches that adorned names of other people long gone by now, just like he was.
He was aware of people watching him. He was always aware of people watching him, especially now. Especially since he had walked into the Federal Bureau of Investigation two weeks ago, which he contemplated internally as to whether it had been the wisest decision he'd ever made. That was yet to be determined over a glass of scotch. Despite the apparent freedom he had, he couldn't shake the invisible chains bounding his wrists. He eyeballed Ressler from behind his dark glasses, wanting nothing more than a meteor to strike the special agent.
He could see death everywhere he went. Whether it was sickness, greed, poverty, or even lust, he was all too understanding about what truly drove a person to carry on with their daily lives. People stayed within the boundary that was instilled in them since childhood, and others relished in the fear of the unknown, where crime and morals walked hand in hand.
Even he was riddled with it.
He hadn't been paying attention, oblivious to the fact that she'd even approached him. It was only when she sat beside him, a little closer than a simple stranger would have, that he realised that she was close. His blue eyes met her dark green eyes, and a smile etched across his face. It was subtle, and one that only belonged to her. She'd told him that she loved it, that it made his eyes sparkle amongst the darkness that seemed to whirl within him, like a murderous storm threatening to destroy everything in its path.
"It's you," he whispered, though his voice was still strong and smooth like silk.
She took a moment to truly look at him, her eyes scanning his face with the same adoration that she'd always looked at him with, despite everything he'd done. Finally, she whispered, "It's you."
He reached for her hand, and he squeezed it gently. Her hands were cold in his, something that he'd always noticed about her, ever since their worlds collided all those years ago. Every year for her birthday he bought her gloves in a bid to keep her hands warm, but she'd always simply added them to her collection. And they weren't cheap ones, they even came with their own fancy box. She always told him they were too fancy to wear.
"I was surprised to get a call from an agent," she continued, squeezing his hand back. His eyes hadn't left hers. "A Donald Ressler? I didn't know you were making new friends, Raymond."
He rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ressler isn't a friend, Madeline. He's just a mere inconvenience."
"What have you done this time?"
Red feigned pain, clutching at his heart as if her comment had offended him. "Why do you think I've done something bad?"
She looked around them, taking in their surroundings. She was quiet for a moment.
"Well, I can count eight undercover agents, for a start. They think they're inconspicuous, but I can spot them a mile off."
Red smiled, proudly. "I always knew you were great."
A toothy grin in response softened his heart. "So, tell me… what have you done to warrant being babysat?"
"I'll tell you, on one condition," Red said, before reaching into his pocket where he pulled out his gloves and handed them to her. She stared at them, then glanced at him, before reluctantly putting them on.
"My side of the deal is done," she said, "so tell me."
Red chewed on his lip, before telling her. "I've handed myself in."
Madeline's brow furrowed as she tried to process what he'd told her. He watched her digest the information, noticing the way her nose wrinkled and her eyes darkened. "Ok."
"Is that it? I was expecting an earful from you," Red commented with a smirk.
"There's always a reason why you do things, Raymond. There's obviously a reason why you did it. Are you ill?" Madeline asked, her eyes searching his. Concern was etched all over her face, her eyes saddened in an instant.
Red looked away, shaking his head. "No. It's just… there's things that even I cannot discuss. Not with them," he said, motioning with his head discreetly towards the agents watching their every move, and then returned his gaze to her, as if it always belonged to her. "And not with you, either."
"Then why am I here, Raymond?"
Red reached for her hands again, now warm from his gloves. "Because I need you more now than ever. I need a friend."
..
"So, who is this Madeline Harper and why is she so important to you, Reddington?"
Ressler was beginning to get on his nerves. All he wanted to do was to read his paper and maybe play a little chess, and now it was as if he had to babysit the agent. The other agents weren't too bad, as he allowed his gaze to scan over them, resting longer on Elizabeth Keen. Before she noticed he was staring at her, he moved his gaze back to his newspaper where he read the same line for the seventeenth time.
"If you're not going to answer me, then maybe your privileges should be stopped. No more fancy hotels, no more caviar, or scotch, or even that newspaper."
"Are you denying me my basic human rights, Agent Ressler? Because I'm sure Cooper would just love to know why his prized asset suddenly refuses to talk," Red bit back. After a moment, he rested his newspaper down on the table, and clasped his hands together. "You may ask me one question, and maybe, just maybe, I'll answer it."
He eyeballed Ressler.
"So, who is this Madeline Harper and why is she so important to you, Reddington?"
Red raised his brows, unimpressed. "That's two questions, Agent Ressler. Can't you count?"
Elizabeth narrowed her gaze at Red, who simply sat back in his chair, the feral animal within him backing down.
"She's the most dangerous woman to ever live. She's the most prolific assassin you'll ever meet. You cross her and you'll be begging for death to come take you because she'll torture you until the bitter end," Red stated nonchalantly. "Other than that, she's the most gentle and generous lover I've ever had."
Someone in the doorway cleared their throat, and the agents spun around to witness Madeline standing there, having been cleared by the agents outside. "He's right about one of them," she said, correcting him with a raised brow and a playful smirk. "I'm not this prolific assassin he claims me to be."
If the agents didn't want the world to swallow them up in that moment, then Red had failed his job. He smirked as they all refused to look at either of them, their faces stained with an embarrassed blush.
"Are you playing with them, Raymond?" Madeline chuckled. "I apologise for him. I really do. He's a joker, once you get to know him."
Madeline took a seat on the couch beside Ressler, which caused a disapproving look to flash across Red's face.
"I can't think of anything worse," Ressler said without a beat. "He's not been the most, how can I put this? Well, he's been volatile and not at all helpful with this whole thing that he's orchestrated."
"And he is in the room," Red said, rolling his eyes. "What am I, chopped liver?"
"So, let me guess, you two aren't friends?" Madeline scoffed. "No friendly games of chess? No braiding each others hair after a long day of shopping?"
"Agent Ressler here was trying to get me to divulge information about you, and I know you are a private person who lives a quiet life—"
"—all to be dragged here to keep you company," Ressler commented, and this time it wasn't Red who eyeballed him.
Madeline cleared her throat. "Raymond is a dear friend of mine. And if he needs me to be by his side, there's a good reason why. Whether you want to take the time and opportunity to find out who he really is, then I suggest you quit making those snarky comments that seem to roll off your tongue with ease."
She stood from the couch beside Ressler and seated herself opposite Red at the chess table.
"Want a game, like old times?" Madeline smirked at Red.
Red began to organise the chess pieces. "That's my girl."
..
It was later in the evening and the special agents had all but abandoned the room, leaving both Red and Madeline on their own. Whilst the agents remained vigilant outside the door, the peace and quiet was well and truly needed. Madeline poured herself and Red a glass of whiskey, handing one over to Red who sat, almost sprawled, against the armchair. His hand that held the glass rested on his knee and his other hand was draped along the back of the chair. Madeline remained stood, the glass with its intricate detail and amber contents heavy in her hand. Her eyes scanned the room, finally taking the opportunity to embrace her surroundings, of the finely detailed artwork on the walls, to the leather-bound books on the bookcases.
After a moment, she moved her gaze to Red. It didn't surprise her when his gaze was already on her. She smiled at that.
"That Agent Ressler sure doesn't like you much."
Red smirked, swirling the contents of his glass. "I like to tease him. He annoys me, a lot. But everything I do just seems to rile him up. It's great."
"You're a menace," Madeline let out a soft chuckle. She moved to the couch, watching as Red's gaze moved with her. "So, I don't want to make it obvious, but… Elizabeth Keen? She sure does have your eyes."
A faint yet tortured smile flashed across his face. It was only there for a split second, but it had been there. "She doesn't know. And I don't want her to know. Not yet. Probably not ever. But… promise me, anything we discuss doesn't leave this room."
"How many years have we known each other? You know I wouldn't tell a soul about anything you tell me," Madeline said, taking a swig of the whiskey. It burned the back of her throat nicely. "Just like I know whatever I tell you has never left any room we've been in together."
"Remember Barcelona?" Red's eyes flashed with mystery and Madeline tried with all her might to not buckle under his gaze.
"How could I forget?" Madeline smirked, her voice low and seductive. It hadn't been her intention to sound that way, but something about Red made her falter. A simple smile or his gentle gaze would often bring her to her knees. Ever since they had met, Raymond Reddington had been an enigma to Madeline. A mysterious man who was incredibly difficult to understand, and even though she did understand him more than others, albeit as much as he was willing to show, she saw a side of him he usually kept hidden from everyone. And as he would always state, she wasn't just anybody.
And it had been the same story for Red when it came to Madeline. She, too, was an enigma in his eyes. Even though he knew her very well, he didn't truly know her. He always explained that you never truly know someone unless they're standing in front of you baring their soul. Often when they had nothing left to live for or nothing else to lose.
"I wonder whether they believed what you told them," Madeline said with a smirk. "A prolific assassin. I can't believe you told them what I did, just like that."
"Ah. See, I knew you'd like that," Red smirked. "Sometimes telling people the truth makes them believe that you're kidding. Especially when you finish off with a tongue in cheek truth about you being the best lover I've ever had."
Madeline took another swig of her whiskey, hoping to calm her shaky hand. But Red had already seen it, and noted that even now, after all the years they'd known each other, he still made her nervous. "I don't think you said I was the best you've ever had. She's the most gentle and generous lover I've ever had was what you said."
"And it's true," Red acknowledged softly. "Both are true."
Her cheeks turned to a rosy blush. There it was. She was becoming weak in front of him, a vulnerable side to her that he only saw small glimpses of before she would hide away again.
"The best and the most," he whispered, his eyes burning into hers with an intensity that took both their breaths away.
"Ditto," was all she could muster, breathlessly.
Red inhaled through his nose before placing his glass of his half-drunk whiskey on the coffee table. He rested back into his seat. "Come here."
When she didn't move from her own seat and simply watched him, he narrowed his gaze at her. A smirk played on her lips. After a small moment, she stood to her full height and downed the rest of her drink before placing her own glass, empty now, beside Red's. She closed the gap between them, her own hand meeting his where they interlaced fingers. He pulled her down gently so that her body moulded onto his, and she instinctively rested her head in the crevice of his neck. She allowed her mouth to place gentle kisses upon his skin, noticing the way his whole body stiffened beneath her. His hand that had been stroking the length of her thigh and hip slowed to a stop.
"Madeline," he purred, the vibrations of his voice reverberating against her lips. "God, I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too, Raymond," she whispered, moving to that she could truly see his eyes. He moved his hand that had been on her hip to her face, where he gently tilted her chin up, grazing her bottom lip with his thumb.
They were quiet as they took each other in, witnessing each other in that moment as if for the first time again.
Red closed the gap between them, his mouth collapsing onto hers for just a moment. It was swift enough for her to not realise that his mouth had left hers and he was staring at her again. When she reopened her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering open again, disappointment flashed across her face.
"Why am I here, Raymond?"
Red grazed his thumb against her bottom lip again, now swollen from his kiss.
"I'm not here as just a friend, am I?"
Red was quiet as he watched as the realisation dawned on her. As if the weight of the world suddenly descended upon her violently, crashing onto her at such speed that she recoiled from him, scrambling to get away from him as quickly as she could, and stumbling as she did so. He wanted to reach for her, to promise her that it wasn't true, but he'd be lying.
"I need you to do something for me," Red stated, standing too.
"I don't do that anymore, Raymond. You know that," Madeline said, her voice stern.
"Think of it as one last job," Red said, trying to reason with her. She ran her hand through her hair frustratedly, reaching for his glass and downing the rest of the contents.
Madeline scoffed. "Of all people, Raymond, I didn't think you would ask me to do that anymore. I've made something of myself. I've gone through years of medical school to justify all the death I've caused… but I still see them. Every single person I was ordered to kill are still there. I've got the scars, Raymond, to prove that it wasn't a bad dream."
Red closed the gap between them, reaching for her hands. He clasped them together, still cold despite the warmth of the whiskey in her bones, and then placed them over his heart to steady her, like it always did when the world felt like it was spinning out of control. But she tore them away, as if his mere touch burned her skin.
"Maddie, please—"
"I can't do this. I'm going to my room," Madeline said, collecting her belongings. "And then I'm leaving. For good. And you can decide if you want me in your life or not. Because as someone who I thought was close to me and was someone I could trust, I didn't think you'd be the one to betray me like that."
Raymond Reddington watched as she left, the door shutting abruptly behind her. He grabbed his now empty glass and poured himself another drink.
