They didn't talk about it right away. Red had to heal, Lizzie had to deal with all the fallout she could without Red pushing her aside to do it himself because he was feeling more than a little useless. And they didn't really want to, anyway. It wasn't exactly an easy thing to discuss.

But Red knew it was necessary. He didn't know why, it just was. And he was never one to shy away from a job that needed to be done.

Which is why he was waiting outside the post office for her when she got off work. He had been released from the hospital earlier that day, the doctors having ruled out tetanus and contained any infection scares. He was covered in casts, bandages, and butterfly plasters, and on a strict diet, but he was okay. So, he asked Lizzie out to dinner.

He knew somehow that this wasn't a discussion to have at a five-star resteraunt, the ambience and mood would be all wrong.

Instead, he had called for takeout while he waited for her, a place across town that they didn't use too much. Red figured they could both use a break from the usual Thai place around the corner.

They took it back to his place.

Lizzie knew well enough why he asked her to dinner, and decided not to make it too difficult for him, so as soon as they were settled with their takeout, she broached the subject herself.

"So how much did you see?"

He wouldn't lie to her. "I don't know how much there was to see. But I woke up about a minute before he came back into the room." Neither of them liked to say his name.

Lizzie nodded silently. "Okay."

She looked at him, knowing she didn't need to say more than that.

"Lizzie," he stopped, and sighed, head drooping tiredly- not from the pain, but from the emotions.

But he said something that she wasn't expecting. "How long have I been a weakness?"

Her brows lifted in surprise, she hadn't ever really thought of him like that. She did her best to answer, though.

"I don't know. Since we met? You know I've always been... protective."

Red let out a breath that could have been a chuckle, only it was silent, and not amused. "You hated me when we met."

She didn't reply, just tilted her head and studied him. He wanted a conversation, though, so he waited her out. Finally, she said, "Maybe I did. I don't know. They weren't exactly the circumstances for well-defined emotions. I felt everything on the spectrum at one point or another."

He loved this about her. She would never cut corners, never hedge, never lie to him to spare him. She trusted him.

He would attempt to be worthy of it.

"I see." He didn't, not completely.

"You don't," she said, " not completely."

He gave a wry smile. He turned into a total open book around her, didn't he? Or perhaps she could just read him the way no-one else could. He wasn't sure which it was.

"What, then?" he asked.

"I think I did hate you sometimes. I also was intrigued. Angry. Confused. Tender. Scared. And I loved you."

He didn't look at her when she said that. It was almost a reflex to do so, but he held back. It seemed safer.

She continued. "You were also scared. You were always tender. And you loved me, too. We were so messed up back then, but you know... I sometimes wish we could go back to when it was messed up, but simple, too." He somehow understood exactly what she meant, and he didn't like it. It shouldn't be like that.

"Well, Lizzie, I have friends in high places. I have skills that not everyone has. But I'm not sure I would know where to start with a time machine." Lizzie snorted at that, and rolled her eyes. He was glad, he preferred when she was happy.

"And yet..." he trailed off, pausing for a moment in introspection. Lizzie waited.

"Well, who says we can't? We are still a mess, Lizzie. More so than before." He finally looked up, looked her in the eyes. "But I am still scared. I still try to be tender. And I still love you."

Lizzie knew how far out on the line he had put himself, with just a few words, and she found herself in a bit of awe, the way she used to in the early days, when he would pull a solution out of seemingly thin air. She was painfully aware that she would never be as brave as he was in this moment.

She could try, though.

Red sat still while she mused, not looking away, bit trying to fill the silence, not adding amendments. He let his words stand, no matter what, and waited with his head in a noose and her hand on the lever.

He never let anyone have something against him. No weaknesses, no vulnerability. But he found that he wouldn't mind as much if she was the one to destroy him. If she pulled the trigger- or, rather, lever- it would be so painful. And so worth it. He could think of no greater honour than to go out by her hand.

"Well, that's good." She said.

He lifted an eyebrow, trying to decide if she was really going to leave it at that, or if she was just teasing him.

"Is it?"

His heart felt funny when she got up and started clearing the containers away, just humming a bit in response. He didn't mind so much, though. He was patient. He would wait a million years for her to say it, if need be. Especially if that meant he got to spend a million years with his Lizzie.

After she came back from putting away the leftovers, she returned to the couch. He waited for her to sit next to him, and wondered what to say from here.

All thought disappeared when she softly plonked herself down onto his lap, winding her arms around his neck. She tilted her head slightly, considering him, and he inanely thought for a moment that she looked a bit birdlike. That, too, was gone when she kissed his cheek. It was not passionate, it was not long, but neither it was it shy or exploratory. It was closer to a sratement than anything.

'So she is teasing me,' he thought, and slightly narrowed his eyes in challenge.

This subtle exchange was broken with her throwing her head back and laughing, which for the third time completely wiped his brain of all thought.

'I am going to have to figure something out,' he realised, 'I can't keep blanking whenever she laughs like an angel, or smiles like she loves me.'

He gave up. He was done. He caved, and leant in, grabbed her and kissed her with every bit of passion and love and tenderness and heat that he had been keeping in his all these years. This apparently was no surprise to Liz, as she tightened her hold on him and met him halfway, returning everything she got with her own.

Red decided that he would just have to come to terms with the fact that, when it came to his Lizzie, he was utterly predictable.

He didn't really mind, though.