Chapter 8: Reality

Lizzy collapsed against his chest, an adorable sound bubbling up out of her that couldn't seem to decide whether it was a giggle or a chuckle. "You really weren't lying to Ressler, were you?"

Red's own strangled, surprised laughter died a quick death when she scraped her teeth against the tender skin of his neck, teasing and tickling the edges of the tiny scar over his carotid; he inhaled sharply and shivered in her arms.

She had quite an uncanny instinct for his damaged body's skewed sense of pleasure, hitting all the right buttons like they'd been lovers for ages instead of hours. They fit together like… like they were meant to.

For the first time in decades, it felt like everything was right with the world.

As soon as that fleeting thought crossed Red's mind, fear seized his heart. Nothing could possibly be further from the truth.

Of course, Lizzy had handled the Ressler situation with her usual efficiency; it'd been a close call, but not too close when you came down to it. The danger, however, was still very real regardless. What if whoever caught up with them the next time was harder to subdue than Ressler had been? Or more ruthless?

And there would be a next time. It was only a matter of when.

They could go to ground together again, decompress and heal and relax for a while, and play at being normal, being free, but it solved nothing except his lonely torment. They couldn't hide forever, no matter how tempting it might be. They still faced the looming specter of The Cabal, the authorities dogging them to the ends of the earth, Lizzy's notoriety and his own in the court of public opinion in the unlikely event that they prevailed over their enemies…

Their future had never seemed particularly bright, but right now it looked very bleak indeed.

Lizzy must've been able to feel his body tense or hear his heart begin to pound again under her ear. She pulled back and met his worried eyes, her own expression suddenly sober.

"Red?"

He shook his head and opened his mouth to try to convince her that everything was fine, but no words would come, almost as if his very vocal cords refused to cooperate with him attempting to offer her even the tiniest of white lies.

Lizzy moved to sit next to him on the bed; he pushed himself up onto his elbows. They watched each other in strained silence for a long moment.

"Please tell me what's wrong."

Red took a deep, shaky breath. "I… I don't know how we're going to do this."

"Us?" she asked, concern clear in her guarded, wary voice.

"No," he said, emphatic. "You and I, we're really the only thing I have complete confidence in anymore. Partnerships come and go, but—"

"But we make a great team," she said with a wry smile. She laid a hand on his forearm, radiating a warmth he could feel down to his bones. He returned her smile with a crooked one of his own; apparently, his surreal awareness of her hadn't dissipated in the slightest.

"Look," she said, "I don't know how we're gonna do this either, but we will. We've lost them before and we'll do it again. And again. Whatever it takes." She slid her hand down to take hold of his and tugged. "Now come on and shower with me. We'll get out of here twice as fast."

"Somehow I get the feeling showering together will have an inverse effect on the amount of time it takes us to get ready."

"Not if you behave yourself, you perv."

Chuckling, Red allowed Lizzy to pull him up out of bed and he trailed behind her at arm's length. She paused once they reached the doorway to look back at him and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We can do this. We're going to be OK," she said, the picture of resolve and determination and bravado.

He nodded, stiff and quick, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "All right," he said. Because Raymond Reddington would do anything for Elizabeth Keen and today, against all odds and probability, he would even believe her.