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Chapter Text

artwork by the talented WhimsyAndSomething/WhimsicalWombat

Prologue

She didn't get many visitors. Even Howard didn't have time to come and gloat now that he had his precious company back under his control. An FBI agent - an Agent Lamb who had headed up the team that had taken her into custody along with Tom and Nez - and her lawyers were the only outside faces she saw on a semi-regular basis, so the fact that she had received two visitors within a week of each other was strange enough.

Scottie could have done without the first one. She hadn't recognized the fake name he had given the prison guard, but she knew Raymond Reddington's smug face anywhere. Just seeing him had soured her mood, but what he had come to tell her had left her gutted.

Tom was dead.

Christopher was dead.

Her boy, her precious, perfect child that she had just found out was alive, was gone all over again. Just like that. There was too much that she didn't have a chance to say to him, and now she never would.

Reddington hadn't given her many details. If he didn't have them or simply wasn't in a sharing mood, she didn't know. There had been a job of some sort and he had crossed the wrong person. He had bled out on the operating table. Elizabeth was in a coma. Agnes was in good hands, she needn't worry, but after everything, he had thought Scottie deserved to hear it from him.

Then he had just left like her entire world hadn't folded in on itself all over again. Like her son hadn't been murdered. Like….

She had ghosted through the days that followed, numb and in pain all at once. She had no interest in food, and sleep came only in fits and starts, leaving her wide awake on her cot with thoughts of a little boy grown into a man with a hesitant smile and clever eyes. He filled her thoughts and weighed on her soul.

Her son was dead.

The second visit didn't spark her interest. In fact she tried to send them away, but she was told that it was a new lawyer from her firm. The woman needed to see her and wouldn't leave.

Scottie moved only because she had to. She sat heavily in the chair and felt them fasten the locks on her cuffs in place. She waited, dark gaze unfocused and starting ahead blindly until the door opened.

Heels tapped on the hard floor and brown eyes flickered up, finding a set of clear blue, once very familiar, looking back at her. Thin lips quirked up ever so slightly as the woman took her seat, a few strands of red hair breaking loose from their hold. "Ms Hargrave. It's been a while."

"It has," Scottie managed. "If you're here to tell me about Christopher, Reddington beat you to it."

One light brow lifted. "Reddington knows less than he thinks he does. Most men do."

Any other time, Scottie might have smiled at the comment, but not then. "What has brought you of all people out of whatever corner of the world you've been hidden away in?"

"I received a call from your husband. He wanted to cash in on a very old favour. Istanbul. Do you remember?"

"I do."

"Would you like to know what dear old Howard wanted?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me if I care or not."

The other woman hummed, amused. "He wanted me to access information on the doppelgänger project. You remember the one. I think your Grey Matters team uncovered the last town in Russia some months ago, didn't they? When you still had Halcyon."

Against her better judgement, Scottie's interest began to stir very slightly. "What for?"

"He needed a duplicate and fast. Imagine my surprise when he sent me the photo of a young man that looked very much like your Christopher might all grown up. When I found the name and realized he was married to Masha I knew it couldn't be a coincidence."

Scottie's mind was running faster than she could put the thoughts in order. "Our son is dead. Why would he need someone to look like him?"

"That is the question of the hour," her visitor murmured, blue gaze flickering to meet hers. "He wasn't forthcoming with the details and was very careful with whatever he had planned to remove the actual Mr Keen from the hospital. It's almost like he didn't trust me."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

The woman she had known in what could have easily been another lifetime now tilted her head just a little. "Because for what we have coming, two Hargraves are more useful than one, and I know they won't keep you here for long."

"What do you mean what we have coming?"

"Raymond didn't just kick the hornets' nest this time, he took a baseball bat to it. Or maybe Christopher did. It's hard to say where it all began. I'm hoping your husband may have more answers."

"So you're back?"

Amusement danced in her eyes. "Aren't you? Or were you ever really gone?" She stood, the chair scraping loudly. "Don't get too comfortable here, Scottie. I'll see you on the other side."

"Wait," she called, barely biting back the other woman's name from escaping as she did. "Is he alive? Christopher. Tom."

"My suggestion is if you want the answer to that question, you make peace with your husband."

Scottie snorted. "You're one to talk."

"Oh no. I wasn't fool enough to marry the mark I fell for." That said, she tapped on the door and was gone, leaving Scottie Hargrave alone and terrified to hope.

There was something comforting about the steady beeping of the machinery after the last week. Nez Rowan leaned against the doorframe of the room, finally gaining the attention of the man in a chair at the foot of the bed. His eyes scanned over a tablet in his hands before he made a mark on it and looking up, his gaze softening. "They're telling me he could wake up today."

"So I hear," Nez answered, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze swept over Tom's sleeping form. He was pale and sick. He had only opened his eyes once since she had led the extraction team stealthily into the hospital to bring him back, and that was shortly after the doctors had called it and the screaming machines had been turned off. Their focus had been on the dead man's wife, still with hours of surgery ahead of her. The op had been put together quickly, but with great care. It had to be, or they'd lose him, and Howard had known that as well as she had. There had been two trusted Halcyon operatives placed with the medical personnel, one surgeon and the other a nurse. The original plan had been to save him there. If they had had their pick, that would have been the best way, but the moment that he went into vfib and the doctors couldn't bring him back around, the operatives had known what their next course of action was. The machines were cut off and the doctors had turned their attention fully to Elizabeth Keen, no one noticing or commenting on the nurse that wheeled Tom out to where Nez and her team had waited.

She hadn't seen him at that point. All she had to go on had been the reports that she received in real time from their people's audio hook up in the OR. Nez could still remember the way he'd looked when they'd brought him around to the room they were waiting in. He was gone. For the briefest of moments she'd stood there, staring at the damage done by whoever he'd been up against. It had been extreme, and only the years of training had had allowed her to snap out of it and pull the syringe from her pocket to administer the dose that Howard had painstakingly described to her. She hadn't known exactly what it was supposed to do, but she had seen the pain just behind the determination in Howard's eyes, and she knew that she couldn't let him lose his son twice without at least trying whatever idea he had, even if it did nothing.

Nothing was exactly what had happened for what had seemed like a short eternity, and Nez had been about ready to transport her dead partner home to his father when dark blue eyes had popped open and he'd dragged a ragged and pained breath in, every muscle seizing up on him and startling her so that she nearly dropped what was left of the medication she had given him. He'd looked at her for just a moment, confusion muddling his usually sharp mind, but it wasn't her name that had tumbled from his lips. It had been just as well that he'd passed out then, because the last thing Nez Rowan had wanted to do was send him into cardiac arrest from the stress of knowing his wife was in brain surgery right then.

"What was in that stuff you gave me anyway?" she asked at last, shaking herself from the memory. "The syringe you had me give to Tom. It wasn't adrenaline. If that would have worked, the doctors would have already tried that."

Howard turned his attention back to his tablet. "Something one of our scientists has been working on. Very experimental, but we were limited on both time and options."

"Scientist, huh? Whitehall?" His attention turned to fix on her and she smirked. "You think I don't know that you guys have been working together? I never had a stake in using or not using him, as long as the right side got him."

"And did it?"

Her gaze shifted over to as a monitor gave a slightly different beep and she thought she saw one of Tom's long fingers twitch. "Whatever he came up with saved his life. You tell me."

Howard hummed softly in response, but the increased beeping caught his attention and he stood to watch the monitor carefully. They had adjusted the medication that morning to ease him back towards consciousness, but they had no way to know for sure exactly when he'd come fully around. He'd begun to fight the the breathing tube earlier that day and they'd had success in pulling it and allowing him to breathe on his own, but his eyes had remained closed, barely responsive to anything around him. The doctor had explained that she had no way to know how long he'd remain in that state. The drugs were experimental, and all they had to go on were untested theories. The best that they could do was wait and monitor his vitals to make sure that he continued breathing well on his own.

The same doctor came in behind them to check all the machinery and Nez held her breath as she stepped around so that she could see as Tom's dark eyes finally slide open sluggishly. She reached out and caught Howard before he bounded forward, and the doctor motioned just half a beat later for them to stay back, speaking quietly to her patient.

"Liz?" Tom managed, voice hoarse and strained. "My wife...she…" He pulled in a struggling breath and Nez saw one hand wrapped up in the sheets, knuckles white with the way he was holding onto it.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about your wife," the doctor managed, looking to Howard for answers, and he stepped forward. She whispered something lowly in his ear before he nodded and she took her leave.

Tom's gaze shifted slowly to his father and he looked more confused than before. "Howard?"

"Hey there," the older Hargrave greeted, trying to keep his voice light. "You've been through one hell of an experience. Take it easy, son."

"Liz."

"Is resting. She-"

Tom swallowed hard. "She couldn't stay awake," he managed, the machines surrounding him beginning to beep a little faster than they had before. "She couldn't… Where is she?"

"She's safe."

"Where?"

"Tom, you need to-"

The panic had already set in and the alarms were beginning to scream. The doctor returned, all but shoving Howard out of the way as her team accompanied her. She immediately had a full breathing mask put in place as Tom began to gasp for air and pushed some sort of medication through one of the IV's. Slowly he began to settle down and his eyes slipped closed again, the hold he'd had on the sheets relaxing. Just like that, he was sleeping again.

The doctor whirled on Howard. "That's why I said to keep the stressors down."

"I told him his wife was fine. He didn't seem to hear me…" A frown pulled his lips downward and he glanced back at Nez. "Do we have an update on Liz?"

"The doctors said she's stabilized, but she's still not awake from what our sources say. They're not even making a prediction on how long she could be out."

"You know my opinion on the matter. I suggest we let him sleep," the doctor said. "Let him heal, let him regain some strength."

"How long?"

"There's no way to know for sure. We're working with an experimental drug in uncharted medical territories here, Mr Hargrave. If you want to give your son the best chance he has to survive this, you'll let me do my job."

"Then do your job," Howard snapped and he stalked out of the room, motioning for Nez to follow. She did, nearly running into him when he stopped abruptly and whirled on her. "I want you to lead a team to investigate everything that happened. I want to know what Tom was involved in and who did this to him. I was hoping he could tell us himself, but we've lost too much time as it stands. I don't want any more surprises."

Nez nodded, but paused. "What about Agnes?"

"What about her?"

"Reddington has her."

"Then she's safe. Find out what we need to know. I'm not going to upend what's left of my granddaughter's world before we have answers. Remaining with Reddington may be the safest thing for her."

Nez wasn't sure how much she believed him in that, but she gave a curt nod. They did need answers, and if she knew her former partner, once he was awake, they'd only get what he wanted to give them. Howard was right. They couldn't afford any more surprises.

Notes: I've been talking about doing this story since they killed him and I kept coming up with excuses not to. I was in the middle of a multi-chapter for Dirk Gently, then I was in the middle of a multi-chapter for Wynonna Earp, and then I went back to the one for Dirk Gently. I had too many ideas. I kept hoping maybe they'd turn around and surprise me and bring him back on the show... really, I think in the end, while all of those were valid reasons, I think it boiled down to the fact that I just wasn't ready to face jumping into what I knew was going to be a lengthy experience in Blacklist writing. I couldn't make up my mind on the details and so I just kept pushing it off.

I sat down a few weeks ago and started plot pointing and trying to organize my thoughts to see if I could make it work. My go-to for medical writing advice wasn't available, so I reached out and was stunned by the amazing response I got on Tumblr, all of which went into working through the medical side of bringing Tom back. I have piles of notes, great people that have been willing to lend their expertise where I'm lacking, the other stories are either finished or just shy of the last chapter being posted, so here we go. No more excuses. There's a good chance this will be my last full length Blacklist fic, so might as well make it worth it, right?

Big thanks to whimsicalwombat for being willing to beta this for me and to bounce ideas off of her.

If you guys don't follow me over on Tumblr, I've been doing some extras for this, and I have already started putting together AU gif sets for sneak peeks like I did back when I was writing Everything Back to You. There's a AU vid over there (and on my YouTube channel) as well.

The plan is to update at least once a week, preferably on Wednesdays before the show. I've gotten some great feedback on Twitter and Tumblr when I started talking about doing this, but I'd love to know here what you think. Feel free to drop me a review and buckle up. I have quite a bit of this story planned out already and it's going to be one hell of a ride.

Next time: Howard has a conversation with Reddington over his son's grave, Tom wakes up, and Scottie is released from prison.

Chapter Text

It had been raining for a week straight the day that they finally put a small gravestone up with the name Christopher Hargrave etched into it. They had waited and waited, searched and hoped, but it had been Scottie that had begged for it. She needed a place to visit, she had told him at the time. She needed something more than an empty room with toys that would never move again. They hadn't invited anyone and there hadn't been a service of any kind. Neither Howard nor Scottie had had any family to come and stand with them over the empty grave for the boy that they had lost, but they had had each other. He could still remember the feeling of her thin fingers reaching out and wrapping around his own, the rain pouring down around them, and his shoes sinking into the mud. He could still remember the feeling of defeat that day, and he'd sworn to himself he'd never feel that way again.

"I'll admit I was a little surprised when you didn't make it to the funeral."

Howard Hargrave turned, startled by the voice that he'd once known so well. He blinked, squinting a little against the late morning sun that hadn't fit well with the low spirits of the people scattered in the graveyard. He'd been alone at his son's grave, icy blue gaze drifting over the etchings in the stone and taking in everything he'd missed several weeks before when he'd been more focused on making sure Tom would make it through another day than showing up for a funeral that would have been all show for him. He'd come that day to put off any suspicions that might be aroused by those outside of his very close inner circle, but he hadn't actually expected to run into anyone. Certainly not Reddington. "A man can only lay his son to rest so many times," he said after a long moment.

Red hummed softly. "I hear Scottie may be getting out of prison soon."

"So I've been told. Does she have you to thank for it?"

His old friend gave a mirthless chuckle, forced and well rehearsed over the years. "Good heavens no. You know how I feel about your wife."

The taller man snorted. "She pulled a favour from somewhere. The evidence built up against her was locked down tight."

"Not tight enough," Red offered and loosed a frustrated sound. Howard risked a look over at him. It had been a long while since he had seen him. They'd both gotten older, there was no doubt about that. Life hadn't turned out quite as they'd hoped in their younger and more idealistic days. Red looked as tired as he felt.

"It's being handled," Howard said after a pause, his gaze returning to his son's grave. He still didn't have all of the intel on what had happened, but Nez and team had been able to uncover that Reddington had been the one to deliver the Keens to the emergency room after the attack. How he'd found them in their home, from the looks of it, but his level of involvement was still yet to be determined. Until it was, Howard's trust remained thin.

"How's Liz?"

The question seemed to take Reddington by surprise. It didn't last more than a second or two before his expression melted into a carefully blank mask. "The doctors are hopeful."

"Good. That's good. There's no harder thing than losing your child."

He could feel Red's eyes on him after a long moment. "I am sorry for your loss, old friend."

Howard hummed softly. "Sorry enough to tell me what happened?"

"If I had the details to give-"

The taller man snorted, squaring his shoulders a little. "Let's not play that game. I know you were there. I'll get to the bottom of it. I had just hoped you wouldn't fight me on bringing my son's murderers to justice."

"I…. understand that you are in a place of mourning. Perhaps looking for a way to channel that," Reddington said slowly. "But there's little more that I can tell you than that Tom seems to have gotten in over his head in something. If it wasn't an operation for you and Halcyon, then it's anybody's best guess as to what he was into. What I can say-" and his tone changed ever so slightly. A little lower, a little more dangerous, "is that Elizabeth is lying in a hospital bed and the doctors can't tell me when she'll wake up. Or even if she'll wake up. Whatever he was caught up in may yet have gotten her killed."

Howard listened to Reddington speak, struggling to hear the meaning between the words and to pick up on the subtitles in his tone. He was angry. At Tom, perhaps, or at whoever had come after them. There was something, though. Something he wasn't saying. If that's how he wanted to play it.

"It did kill my son," Howard pressed. "I won't let that go easily."

"You're a man with many troubles at your table," Red said with the smallest of shrugs.

Howard pushed a breath out through his nose. "What are you doing here, Red? And don't tell me you're here to pay your respects. I know how limited they were for him." His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, shooting the other man an expectant look even as he glanced over the text. Get back ASAP. He pursed his lips together, and if Reddington would have given him anything about why he'd chosen that day to visit Tom Keen's grave or not, Howard wouldn't know. "I need to take this. If you'll excuse me."

"When trouble calls," Red murmured, his tone a little lighter.

Howard did his best not to roll his eyes as he turned, dialing Nez's number as walked away. "What's wrong?"

"He's awake."

The beeping of machinery was the first thing that finally made its way through the fog. It was slow, and he was certain that he was slipping off and on again between collections of beeps, but somewhere in there his brain clued in that he must be in a hospital. Something had happened. What, he couldn't quite remember, but if the vague sort of ache that was finally making its way through the medication was anything to go by he'd been injured. Badly injured. The closer he swam towards consciousness the more it hurt.

Dark blue eyes finally slid open, his lids heavy and his gaze unfocused. Tom squinted hard, finally making out the ceiling above him. He was on his back, laid out on a bed, as best as he could tell. He stretched his fingers out, stiff and difficult to move, and thought that he could feel sheets beneath them. He curled and uncurled them, digging the nails of his right hand into the soft fabric, but his left wasn't as easy. He could feel the monitor attached to a finger there, making it difficult to take hold of anything in the clumsy way his body was reacting to the commands.

Everything was hazy, like moving through a fog. He blinked hard and found that it just wouldn't clear. His body wouldn't move at his command as quickly as it normally would, but a soft moan escaped him, and he could see a flicker of movement to his right. Slowly he was able to focus on a familiar face and he managed to croak out a name. "Nez."

"Hey there," she greeted softly, setting her book down. "You're back."

"Back?"

"You woke up about twenty minutes ago, but you were out again by the time I called Howard."

"Howard?"

"You know, your dad? The man that saved your life?"

He watched her frown and Tom felt himself echo the expression. He couldn't remember what happened. Everything was too hazy. "I-" And then his body rebelled. His throat closed, refusing to release the air that he'd pulled in for the words and he choked against it, feeling every muscle seize with the effort. He coughed hard, back arching, and fingers wrapped around the bedsheets like that would stall the pain from hitting.

It didn't. The wave washed over him, threatening to drag him under once again, and he struggled against it. He couldn't let go. He couldn't pass out. He needed answers, and he wasn't going to get those if he slipped back into unconsciousness again.

Somehow he managed to open his eyes again and found a straw within range for him to drink from it. Fresh, cold water came through it and down his throat, burning all the way, and he finally relaxed back against the pillows. "What happened?" he managed.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Tom risked closing his eyes only for a moment before he had to open them again or he would have fallen asleep. He played his latest memories back as best as he could. He'd been searching down the identity of the bones that Kaplan had left him. Lena. He'd asked Lena for help to find her fiancé and the asshole that had kidnapped them had put her through a meat grinder. His stomach turned just thinking about it and he groaned softly. He'd escaped, Reddington had picked him up, and then he'd slipped away. He'd found out Reddington's secret and… that was it. The same guy had come into his home and attacked them. Him and Liz both. Liz.

"Is Liz okay? Where-?"

"Yes," Nez said quickly, "Liz is alive."

He felt the rising panic subside, easing back against the pillows. It hurt to pull in deep breaths, but shallow ones were leaving him feeling light headed.

"You need to take it easy," Nez said, as if his body would give him any other option.

"How bad?" he managed, swallowing hard and forcing his fingers to loosen their grip on the sheets once more.

"Hell of a lot better than you were. The doctors have been keeping you out to let you heal. There was…. a lot of damage, but they had to pull you off the respirator."

He winced, nodding a little. That explained the uncomfortable tightness in his chest. If the respirator had been the deciding factor in waking him up, that meant there had been complications. "How long have I been out?"

Nez frowned a little. "Nearly a month."

Okay, a lot of complications. "Okay," he breathed. "Is Liz with Agnes? Can I see them?"

He didn't like the look in Nez's pale eyes at that question. "Listen, I need you to stay calm, okay? The doctor'll kick me out if-"

"Where is she, Nez?" Tom demanded and she looked nervously over at the machines.

"In a coma. The damage was…. severe."

She hadn't been able to stay awake. He remembered the blood and the way that her eyes couldn't quite focus on his. He'd been terrified of losing her, begging her to stay awake…. that he couldn't live without her.

"Tom?"

He blinked hard, realizing that he had started to drift. "Is she here?"

"No, Reddington had her moved to a private facility."

Of course he did. "And Agnes?"

She pursed her lips. "Reddington has her."

He pushed a breath out through his nose, a painful cough following it. "Not anymore."

"It's not going to be that easy."

He looked over, his drug-muddled mind finally coming to grips with the fact that he didn't have any contacts in and that was what was turning everything around him blurry. He knew the voice, though, and as he squinted he could make out just enough of the shape to be certain. He shifted a little in the bed. "Howard."

"Take it easy there, son. You've been through a lot."

"You wanna-" he coughed, feeling his throat threaten to close again - "tell me why I can't see my daughter?"

Howard's lips twitches downward. "Give us a minute?" he directed at Nez. She hesitated just a moment before nodding curtly. Once she was gone Howard settled himself down in the chair next to Tom. "You deserve the truth," he said slowly and Tom bit back the urge to snark at that statement. Howard Hargrave was a lot of things, but honest wasn't one of them. That much he knew about his father.

"They think you're dead."

"What? Why?"

"Because you were," the older man said roughly, and Tom thought he heard wariness lining his voice. "Reddington delivered you and Liz to the hospital, but you'd already lost a great deal of blood. You went into vfib and then..." He paused, grimacing a little and Tom found himself wondering just what could be terrible enough to leave Howard Hargrave stumbling for words. "The doctors in the OR called it. You were gone."`

"Then….. how?" Tom managed, feeling a chill sweep over him. He could almost hear the shrill warnings of the machinery and the shouts of the doctors.

"I wasn't willing to lose you again."

"You didn't just will me back to life, Howard."

That pulled a very small smile from his father. "A drug. Untested, unproven, but what did we have to lose? It's been in development here for some time now and they never would have risked it, so I sent a team in." He paused, a distant look in his eyes. "It did what it needed to. It brought you back and has helped with the healing process to keep you here."

Tom risked a small shift in the bed and instantly regretted it. He didn't feel like he'd had a month's worth of healing or a miracle drug. He was fighting the exhaustion again. "Agnes," he pressed. "We can-"

"For now, you need to rest. I swear to you I am doing everything in my power to protect you, son. Agnes is safe. I will make sure she stays that way, but we can't have Red looking too closely."

"He didn't do this," Tom breathed out.

"Not directly, no." Howard sighed and stood. "I know that trust doesn't come easy for you, son. I know you've been…. hesitant since everything with your mother. Don't blame you for that. She did a number on us both."

He was redirecting, Tom knew, but the exhaustion was pulling him closer and closer back towards sleep and he couldn't quite find the strength to call him on it. This wasn't about Scottie. It was about Howard using him and hiding things. To what extent he wasn't sure. His investigation had had to be put on hold while he looked into the bones. He'd done what he could with the information that he had. There hadn't been time for everything, and his wife and child came first.

A hand on his arm startled him out of his thoughts and he found Howard standing over him. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up." Tom managed the smallest of nods and saw something in his father's eyes that he couldn't quite decipher through the thick fog pulling him in. Worry, maybe? "I love you, Tom," he thought he heard Howard whispered as he slipped back under.

Reddington had asked her to meet him at the private hospital that Liz was being treated at. He had provided her with a name to give the nurses at the front, and her discretion was appreciated, as always, but there wasn't a great deal of information beyond that. Samar hadn't been there before, but as she walked in she found herself greeted immediately, asked for the name that rolled off her tongue with all of her years of training behind her, and pointed through a set of doors and told to make a left at the first opportunity. There was another nursing station down the way, so if she got lost all she had to do was tell them her name and they'd put her back on the right path.

Everything was quiet and she didn't see any other visitors milling about. Doors were closed, at least in part, and there were no names written on the small whiteboards, only numbers and a handful of warnings every few doors. Fall risk, oxygen in use. Her boots sounded softly on the tile floor and she rounded the corner to see the set of numbers she'd been told. A familiar voice drifted out. "... just as I promised. Everything is still in order, fresh flowers out. I may not have had a great deal of use for him, but I know how you felt. I won't let Agnes forget his face." A soft, mirthless laugh escaped him. "I fear you'll need to provide the stories. She'll need you for those, Elizabeth."

The former Mossad agent pulled in a steadying breath and she rounded into the room, knocking on the door as she entered and pulled Reddington's attention to her. "How's she doing?"

He pursed thin lips together thoughtfully. "There hasn't been a change. They say speaking to her may help."

Samar's dark gaze shifted to look at the woman that had been her colleague. She could remember standing in the emergency room, alarms screaming and doctors scurrying to try to save two lives that night. Tom hadn't made it, but somehow, against the odds, Liz had come out of surgery. It had taken hours and nobody had slept in the emergency waiting room. She could still feel the stiff-backed chair that she'd sat in, Aram's fingers curling around her own, and the sickening feeling that had clawed at her as they had waited and waited and waited for anything, more questions than answers hanging in the air.

They didn't have the full story of what had happened and Metro PD had taken over the case. The Task Force had been told that they were too close and under no circumstances were they allowed anywhere near the case. Not that they would have had time, anyway, not with the new demands that Cooper's bosses were making. Likely to keep them distracted from the case they wanted to work. She couldn't help but feel like they were being diverted, but that was absurd. That had to be absurd.

"I do have a new blacklister for you," Reddington prompted, pulling Samar out of her thoughts.

She quirked a dark eyebrow. "We weren't sure that you would."

The Concierge of Crime made a small sound of acknowledgement. "That is the deal we have, isn't it? Your collection of blacklisters runs dry and they'll disband your little task force. I have no interest in explaining that to Elizabeth when she wakes up."

When she wakes up. She hoped that his optimism was well placed. Samar drew in a deep breath, focusing. "What do we have?"

Blue eyes caught her own darker ones. "Greed, Agent Navabi," he answered, and just like that they were back to business.

She had given up on the paperwork coming through that day. Her lawyers seemed uninterested in her actual release now that the charges had been refuted and she was all but set to walk out a free woman, clear of the lies that her husband had set up against her. Scottie could only assume that Howard had gotten to someone to slow the paperwork down, leaving her to rot in prison yet another night. It was petty, but then again so was he at times. He'd never lost well, and Scottie had no doubt that he'd see her release as a loss. When they had gotten to that point, she wasn't quite sure, but it had been a slippery and treacherous road that wasn't done yet. Give him time and half a reason and she was sure that he'd move from petty right back to vicious. If she were within sight, they would eventually clash.

Oh, she might be able to walk away. She was capable of it, she knew. File quietly for divorce, fade into the shadows, and be gone for good with whatever she could take from it. Howard wouldn't be able to stop her. She wouldn't bother him and he wouldn't bother her. He had his precious company now, afterall. That's all he cared about in the end.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

As Scottie Hargrave stepped out into the early evening she couldn't help but think about the woman that had visited her weeks before and what Howard had asked of her. What would he have needed with a body double for their dead son if Christopher were, in fact, dead? It made no sense.

The easiest explanation was that Howard truly was crazy. She hated to think about it, but she'd watched his decline into parianoia with her own eyes. He'd proven clever enough when he was called to it, but in the end he'd also proven willing to take down his own plane to make it look like she'd tried to kill him, take back his company, and steal Whitehall's technology for himself. He was brilliant, driven, and dangerous. There was no telling what he wanted a double for.

Thin lips twitched downward. No, that wasn't entirely true. There was a relatively simple explanation. Well, simple for people like them, no matter how complicated it would be for any normal person. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he'd felt like Tom's life was in danger and had staged his death - with or without his consent, who really knew? - and used the double to cement his lies as truth for any curious onlookers. If he had then he'd fooled even Reddington, and that did take some effort.

Scottie pulled in a deep breath, the free air on this side of the fence somehow a little fresher as she pulled it down into her lungs. Her dark gaze shifted from one end of the street to the other, pausing at the site of a town car that was moving slowly down the way. Interesting. The lawyers hadn't said anything about sending a car.

It pulled up and Scottie held her ground, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up to her full height. It paused when it reached her and she spotted her tired expression in the heavily tinted window before it began to roll down, revealing an amused man on the other side of it. "Well now," he drawled out, his voice smooth and his lips quirked up at the corners, "Scottie Hargrave. You do look like you could use a friend."

"And is that what you are, Matias?" she asked her former employee, amusement lining her voice. There was something about the man that left her in a better mood than she began in.

Solomon flashed a wide grin, showing off white teeth. "I do hope so. May I give you a lift?"

The door popped open and he scooted over on the bench seat of the car, allowing her room to take it if she chose to. Scottie hesitated half a beat, considering the proposal. He wasn't a threat. Not to her, at any rate, and she supposed that a friend in her corner might prove useful. "Yes you may," she answered at last, pulling the door open the rest of the way so that she could slip in.

His smile didn't fade as she closed the door behind her, but he reached over and tapped the glass that separated the back of the car from the front and they started forward.

Notes: This story has taken on a life of its own. I'm currently writing on Chapter Five right now, so I've decided that I need to alter the posting schedule. I'll now be posting every Wednesday and every other Saturday, starting with this Saturday. It may change to every Wednesday and every Saturday if the speed keeps up. We'll just have to see. There's a lot of ground to cover in this story and so far, I'm really happy I decided to jump into it.

Next time: Tom struggles with his recovery speed, Scottie and Solomon do some investigative work into the attack at the Keen home, and Howard gets an unwelcome surprise.

Chapter Text

"I seem to remember the doctor telling you not to push yourself too hard."

"I'm using the chair, aren't I?" Tom Keen grumbled, glaring up at Nez from his place halfway down the hall. She wasn't even sure how he'd manage to get into it, or if maybe he'd conned one of the nurses into helping him and promised to stay put. Whatever the case, she was relatively certain that he didn't have the OK to be struggling down the hall.

"Exactly where are you going?"

He snorted. "Anywhere but in there." His voice was tense, short, and she watched as his hand slipped from the wheel. He gave a grunt of pain as he shifted wrong, frustrating rolling off of him in waves. He had been cooped up too long, but he wasn't well enough to be out and about. He knew that, Nez knew that. Everybody knew it, and if she were to place her bets, that was one of the many things driving him insane at that very moment. Maybe it was easier when he was just unconscious.

"I got you," Nez offered and moved back behind the chair. "Where are we going?"

"Outside?"

"That's not happening."

"Still not gonna tell me where I am?"

"Safe," Nez echoed the only response Howard had given him when he'd asked again and again and she saw her former partner give the same death glare that he latched onto his father with that response.

"Then your call. Just anywhere but back in the room."

"I think we can manage that."

He didn't say anything for several long moments and Nez thought maybe he'd worn himself out. Finally she saw him sag a little in the chair. "I haven't seen Howard in a couple of days."

"He's in New York."

"So we're not in New York."

Her lips quirked up. "Well, not in the city."

He snorted. "Business?"

"Halcyon, yes."

"Is there another business I don't know about?"

It was a strange question and Nez pursed her lips together. "No."

"Scottie finally making a play for it?"

"Not that I've heard. The company just needs its CEO. If people notice he's gone all the time, they'll ask questions."

"And nobody can know I'm alive," Tom muttered, his tone irritable.

Nez stopped in her tracks and rounded the wheelchair. He looked up at her, those dark blue eyes of his reminding her of Howard's when he was working at something from every angle but straight forward. It wasn't the look in his eyes that worried her though. It was everything else. The paleness of his skin, the deep and dark circles under his eyes that the glasses on his nose didn't quite hide. His usual scruff on his jaw was growing out, his hands too shaky to shave himself and he was too stubborn to let anybody else help. He couldn't walk. He'd tried, landing in a heap and gasping against the pain that had put him there. The doctors said he needed time, but how much was still uncertain. He couldn't even push the wheelchair around by himself without trembling like a leaf. The physical therapy was helping, the doctors promised, but it was slow going. Not that that wasn't blatantly obvious.

"Listen," she said quietly, her voice dropping and she held his gaze, "somebody tried to kill you. Scratch that. Somebody did kill you."

"That same somebody that's out there."

"And what are you going to do about it?" she snapped, her expression daring him to counter her. "No, really. I'd like to hear your plan, Keen. Are you going to get up and walk your happy ass out of this facility, because I'll make you a deal. You manage to do that right here and right now and I won't be the one to stop you."

He held her glare for several seconds and she knew that expression. Damn the man. He was stubborn.

Nez forced herself to step back as she watched Tom pull in a steadying breath, the muscles in his face tightening as he fought back something. If it was a fresh wave of pain or a cough that the breath was bringing about, she had no way to know, but he shifted, slowly and carefully, and kicked the footrests up so that he could set his bare feet against the tile. Once that was done he started moving his hands to the armrests, dropping one momentarily to pull the break into position to keep the chair steady in its place when he tried to use it to leverage himself upright. Good. At least his mind was sharp. With all the stupid stunts he pulled sometimes, Nez found herself questioning if he'd been left with more damage from his experience than the doctors had found.

Determination set in across his face as he bent his arms at the elbows, palms pressed down against the rests and he pushed. She saw the struggle as he attempted to stand. His brows knit together, the muscles in his arms and his legs tensed, and she could see the way he was fighting to breathe through it. She thought that he was going to take a hard seat back in the chair like he had the times before when she had seen him try this, but he held himself halfway between for a long moment stubbornly, and finally he gave himself one last push to his feet.

Tom stood there for just a moment, his expression melting into surprise just before his knees gave way and he began to pitch forward. Nez moved immediately, jerking forward to catch him. He leaned heavily against her and she eased him back as gently as she could into the chair. She could feel the way every muscle was tensed and trembling from the strain, and when she got him seated again it was evident that he was struggling to keep his breathing even. "C'mon," she coaxed, flipping the lock off the wheels and moving to the back to start him towards his room again. She didn't risk saying anything and Tom certainly didn't seem inclined to strike up a conversation at that point, so she wheeled him in silence.

A nurse met them at the door, but she waved him off. "We've got this, right, Tom?"

"Yeah," came the quiet, half-hearted reply, but it was enough to shoo the man in scrubs away. Nez kicked the door closed behind her and they worked through a routine that they'd gotten down far too well as she helped him from the chair, taking on quite a bit of his weight as she helped ease him over into the bed. He sat heavily on it, leaning back against the pillows and looking spent. The wounds that his attacker had dealt him might have been closed up, but he was far from healed. Dr Gramble had been working with Whitehall to find the right regiment between medication and physical therapy to get Tom back on his feet, but the latest adjustments didn't seem to be there quite yet. As she was so fond of reminding them all: they were in uncharted waters and patience was key.

"It was better than last time," she offered. "I mean, at least-"

"Stop," he huffed, sinking a little deeper into his pillows. "Seriously, stop. I don't need you to…" He winced, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he let whatever pain had struck him pass. "Don't need you to baby me," he managed. "Don't you have some op to go on?"

"Tired of me already?"

"I just don't need a babysitter, and this isn't your job, Nez. You're a field operative. I've seen you here more than you haven't been since I woke up." He cracked an eye open again. "I can't tell if you're here 'cause you think someone's going to come after me or if you think I'm going to break myself out."

"Not worried about the second just yet," she answered before she though it through and then grimaced. "Sorry."

"Then it's the first."

"That's part of it."

"If Howard's so worried, why doesn't he take steps to figure out who the guy is? I can give a description, we can run him through the database-"

"One step at a time, Tom. We'll get the guy, but you need to focus on getting better."

"How am I supposed to do that when I know Liz and Agnes could still be in danger from him?"

"They're not."

"Because Reddington's watching over them. Yeah. That always goes great."

She grit her teeth, willing herself to remember what it looked like from his side of things. "Listen, I know this is the hardest part-"

"It's been over two months."

"And you're not going to do either of them any good if you can't even stand up longer than a couple of seconds."

She watched him deflate a little more and she couldn't help the guilt that was settling in. Howard had told her to keep any research away from him and to encourage him to focus on healing. That was his battle, and she had to agree. The man was damn lucky to be alive. Pushing that luck, even for the people that he loved, would risk everything he'd gained so far, which wasn't much.

"You'll get there."

"I need to be ready to help her when she wakes up," Tom said softly, exhaustion lining his voice and his eyes were drooping shut.

When. It was always when she woke up. Nez didn't have the heart to tell him that it might not happen.

Scottie had asked for Solomon's help breaking into her son's apartment, but she had never demanded it. She had never asked him for anything he wouldn't willingly give her, even after saving his life when the Cabal had been ready to put him down like a dog they could no longer control. He'd paid that debt in full when he had helped her escape Halcyon's main base with Howard at her heels, but a woman like Scottie instilled loyalty, and as much as he might deny it, loyalty did weigh in for him. It had been what had led him to the prison doors just a few of weeks before and what had kept him with her since. He still wasn't certain what her goal was and knew she wasn't being entirely open about it, but that was nothing new. For now, he was comfortable letting his path align with hers, at least for the time being.

That was how he found himself breaking into a crime scene, his lock picks anything but rusty and Scottie standing at his back. She was quiet, sharing only what she needed to in the moment, but it was obvious enough that she hoped to find something that the cops hadn't about Tom Keen's murder.

Solomon heard the telltale click of the lock coming unfastened and he pushed the door open, giving a dramatic gesture for Scottie to lead the way. Her lips didn't even twitch upward, but her dark gaze remained focused as she entered. He followed without a word, pulling the door shut behind him to avoid any suspicious eyes.

He'd never seen Keen's apartment, but having known the man in the brief time that he did, this looked about right. Or it would have had it not been if he hadn't been killed there. It was easy to imagine a quaint little home, toys for a toddler tucked into every corner and there were photos that lined the shelves behind the sofa. The Keens' smiling faces lit several of them from moments with their daughter to vacations taken. Solomon looked them over, finding himself questioning the glasses perched on his nose in several of them and the cardigan he was wearing in another. He softened his appearance at some point in his marriage. Interesting. Elizabeth Keen hadn't struck him as someone that would be interested in a softer man.

Scottie cleared her throat, drawing his attention. "According to my contact in Metro PD there were signs of forced entry, several dead bodies left for them when they arrived, but Tom and Elizabeth were already gone. No sign of Agnes."

"I'd say your boy put up a fight," Solomon murmured, taking in some of the overturned furniture and the blood on the carpet. He reached into his pocket to pull out a pair of latex gloves, fitting them over his longer fingers so that he could go poking around without leaving his prints all over. "How'd he go?"

"Hemorrhaging," she murmured and he squatted down to get a closer look at the scuff marks on the wood floor around the carpet. "A gunshot wound to the shoulder, three separate stab wounds to the side."

"Who ID'd the body?"

"Harold Cooper."

Solomon hummed to himself, scooting along the path of the marks. He let his jaw drop, ready to speak again, but a sound outside the front door caught his attention and he straightened immediately. He tugged his gloves off and barely crumbled them into his pocket as a key turned and the door opened to reveal a main in plain clothes on the other side, but Solomon saw the badge as he pulled his firearm, aiming it at them. "Let me see your hands."

Scottie made a startled sound, setting the tone, and Solomon followed her lead, raising his hands carefully so that his coat didn't move and reveal his own weapon.

"Who are you two?"

"Susan Keen," Scottie said without missing a beat, even if her voice sounded hesitant enough. A quick glance showed the appropriate amount of weariness that any normal person might have had facing down the barrel of a gun when they'd done nothing to deserve it. "This is my son's apartment. Was….my son's apartment. Who are you?"

Not half bad for someone that, as far as Solomon knew, had never been in the field. He looked back to the cop standing in the doorway who didn't appear to be buying the story, at least not immediately. His expression was closed off as he studied them both, but after a long moment he loosed a breath and tilted the barrel of his gun down and he grimaced a little. "Detective Norman Singleton, the lead officer on your son's case," he introduced. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Keen, but this is an active crime scene. You shouldn't be here. Do you have some ID on you?"

"In the car downstairs," Scottie answered. "It's been nearly three months since my son was murdered. I was told that I could come collect some of his things. My daughter-in-law is in the hospital and I-"

"Funny, I haven't seen anything under your name in our files, and I've been on the case from the beginning."

"I've been out of the country," Scottie answered without missing a beat.

"And someone from the precinct told you you could come by?"

Scottie shot him a look. "Yes. If I wasn't supposed to, they shouldn't have told me to."

"Do you have the name of the officer you spoke to?"

"No….. It started with a D. Der-something. Maybe that was a P? I've had a few things on my mind recently."

That seemed to make the cop a little more nervous. "Yes, ma'am. Listen, I don't have an ETA on when you'll be able to pick things up, but why don't I get your phone number and I can give you a call." He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small writing pad and pencil.

"That would be great." Scottie took in and scrawled a set of numbers across it, the name Susan Keen accompanying it. Her fingers lingered against his hand as she handed it to him and she held his gaze for just a moment. "Have you found anything? Anything at all that you can tell me?"

There was a pause, something flickering across his expression that Solomon didn't miss, and he didn't think Scottie did either. Frustration. "We're doing everything we can to bring your son's killers to justice," Detective Singleton promised her after a moment. "We'll be in touch. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to-"

"Of course."

"And if you remember that officer's name," he said, trying for a smile as he handed her his card. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ms Keen."

Scottie offered a small smile and started for the door. Solomon felt Singleton's eyes on him as he followed, but he didn't say anything and he didn't try to stop them. They were down the hall and into the stairwell before she loosed a long breath. "Well that may have been a waste of time."

"Maybe," Solomon murmured, glancing up and behind. "I got the distinct impression that someone is road blocking that investigation. The question is who would benefit from Keen's murder going unsolved."

"That does seem like a worthwhile angle to track down," Scottie agreed, reaching into her coat pocket to fish out her cell phone. A slow smile perked her lips as she red a message there and Solomon shot her a questioning look. "The Board wants to meet with me."

"I didn't know you'd reached out to them."

Her smile only broadened. "When have you ever known me to leave a stone unturned?"

Solomon shook his head, his own smile creeping up on him. "New York it is then."

He had been neck deep in paperwork for hours. So long that he'd lost track of time, and his best indication of that was the way that his eyes took far too long to refocus when he looked towards his office door, a knock there drawing his attention. Howard blinked hard, finally bringing his visitor into focus, and he settled back in his chair. "Dumont. Everything alright?" He didn't typically see the head of technology in this part of the building, but he hadn't been there a great deal lately either. While he wasn't specific about where he was traveling too, he logged trips every week so that the board wouldn't look too closely at the fact that he was only popping into the actual office once, maybe twice a week these days. It had worked relatively well for the most part, leaving only one or two grumbling in the background, but those particular individuals always would.

"Yeah… yeah. You wanted that system's report overviewing our security and I-"

"Felt the need to take time out of your busy schedule to hand deliver it?" Howard asked, his tone not quite accusatory, but not really amused either. He had a pretty good idea why Dumont was there.

The shorter man pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing back around. "Is there an update? I tried calling Nez, but-"

"She doesn't have reception where she's at," Howard conceded and motioned for Dumont to close the door. Once he had, he loosed a breath. "Better. The doctors are moving him into therapies that are supposed to work him to getting out of the chair and back on his feet. It's… slow, but he's getting there. I'll let him know you were asking about him."

"Thanks. I know you're trying to keep it quiet-"

"Someone broke into his home and tried to kill him. Yes, I'm doing what I can to keep this quiet," Howard huffed, but immediately tried to pull back on at least some of the irritation. Dumont had been right there guiding Nez through the extraction. He was trusted. He'd proven he could be. "If you've got some time in your schedule, I'll be flying back out there tomorrow. It would probably do him some good to see another friendly face."

He watched Dumont's expression shift from anxiety to something like excitement, and Howard couldn't help but be reminded of the loyalty his son had won from his team there at Halcyon. Most of his team, anyway.

"I'll go wrap up the last of what needs to be done now and be ready first thing in the morning. Speaking of," he added, motioning to the computer on the desk and Howard nodded.

Dumont rounded to the side and flipped the screen and keyboard around to access it. "I can pull up my station from here with my access…. There we go. We got a photo from our third satellite. I wasn't sure that we could get a clear photo of the people coming in, and I'm still not sure we can, but I did get an image of the car being driven. Same one we saw parked outside of Tom's building."

Howard watched the image come up and the car came into semi-focus. "Can you clear up that plate?"

"I'm working on it," Dumont promised.

"Good. Take it with you to the base, but I'd appreciate it you'd-" he caught movement outside of his office - "keep Tom out of the search while you're there. He needs to focus on healing, not the case."

"Right. Sure." Dumont looked around, eyes widening a little behind his glasses. "Is that-?"

"Wheels up at eight sharp tomorrow morning. If you'll excuse me." Howard stepped around Dumont and out the door, his expression hardening as rounded the corner to see who had been lingering there. He spotted Theo Maddens, one of Halcyon's many lawyers and a board member, their head of HR, and none other than Susan Scott Hargrave. One of their security personnel lingered by the elevator for good measure.

"Good evening, Howard. I see you've already made some changes." His wife flashed what might have been a charming smile if it had been directed at anyone but him, but Howard knew better. He knew her.

"What are you doing here, Scottie?"

"Visiting with Theo and Janey, going over options. I'm sure you heard that the judge threw the case out."

"I'd heard," Howard answered tightly, and Janey looked away, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. "The board made their decision, Scottie. Carl, please escort Ms Hargrave out of the building."

"The board made our decision with limited information," Theo interjected. "Scottie and I have been discussing our options."

"Hi, Dumont," Scottie called out cheerfully as the tech expert finally tried to slip by and out, every inch of his demeanor screaming how uncomfortable the situation was making him, despite his usual confidence.

"We'll be meeting tomorrow to discuss it in an official setting," Theo added.

"We'll need to reschedule. I'll be out of town," Howard said dismissively, shooting Scottie a look.

"You've been out more than you've been in the last few months," the lawyer said and Howard knew that tone. There wouldn't be any rescheduling this meeting. Not without paving a way for Scottie to get her heel back in the door, and he could see the way she was watching him. Those dark eyes roamed up and down, searching out weaknesses and assessing any tells she might see. She was good. She always had been. He had loved that about her once, back when he could trust her.

"Surely whatever it is isn't more important than the fate of the company, Howard," Scottie said in a sensible tone and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

His mind immediately called up the image of his son who was stored away in a bunker for his own safety; hidden away from the world to give him time to heal. And he was healing, it was just taking more time and considerable more pain than he hoped for it. But Tom was alive, and for that he had to count the wins where he could get them.

"I'll push the flight back," he said after a long moment.

"Might want to push it back a few days. This could take a while," Scottie told him, and damn the woman if she didn't sound like she knew more than she should.

Notes: This story is coming together rather nicely so far. Major thanks to those that have let me bounce ideas off of them for it and who have given me feedback on pacing, because I'm starting this with Liz being in a coma for 10 months and having to keep Tom from running to her until after she wakes up. It's frustrating because all I want to do is jump ahead to that, but they say good things are worth the wait?

As of right now I'm posting every Wednesday and every other Saturday (starting with this one), but considering I have one scene left to write on Chapter Six we may move to every Wednesday and every Saturday at some point if I get too far ahead. I like having about a 3 - 4 chapter buffer there, but I don't like a great deal more than that. Keep an eye on the notes on Wednesday's post to see if I'll be posting next Saturday as well.

Next Time: Dumont joins Tom and Nez at the base while the board decides the fate of Halcyon Aegis and its leadership.

Chapter Text

Everything about this was driving him crazy. Nobody would know looking at him, but Scottie knew the signs. It was in the subtle way that his eyes darted from one person to the next, in the slight movement of his foot under the table, and the sharp, direct tone of his voice. He had finally sent his plane on without him nearly three days after it was supposed to depart. Dumont had been on the flight, and Scottie wondered if Howard needed someone he trusted wherever he was going or if he had just taken the opportunity to get the tech expert as far away from Scottie as possible. Whatever the case was, her husband clearly didn't want to be kept from his appointment.

"Why don't we break for lunch and reconvene in, let's say, two hours?"

Howard gave a frustrated sigh. "Order in. This needs to be settled. We've wasted enough time as it is."

"And you have somewhere to be?" Theo asked, eyeing him suspiciously. He hadn't said as much, but Scottie had certainly gotten the impression that he thought Howard was hiding something.

"Running the company," Howard snapped.

"Or maybe you don't want us reexamining what happened when Scottie was arrested. Your faked death, Dr Whitehall's kidnapping, Ms Carson's death. Has anyone even heard from that operative that called for the ambulance or did he just drop off the face of the planet?"

Howard furrowed his brows just a little. "What operative?"

"I don't know his name. You wouldn't sign off on an in depth investigation into her murder, but the man was one of yours."

"Tom," Scottie breathed. "She went to Tom?"

"That's right. King? Something like that."

"Keen," she corrected, the name breaking at the end.

Howard's expression hardened. "He's dead."

"Funny how the bodies keep piling around you, Howard."

"Watch your insinuations, Theo. I'm still the founder and CEO of this company. I didn't touch either Kat or Tom. Unlike Scottie over there that had Matias Solomon beat Mr Keen within an inch of his life. Tell me, Scottie, was tracking me down worth handing that young man over to a killer like Solomon?"

Scottie bristled ever so slightly. "Solomon is an agent that has been trained in advanced interrogation-"

"Fancy word for torture," Howard said with a shrug, "but you know all about that, don't you, dear? Pretty sure that the electric shock 'therapy' that you had them use on me in the hospital was about as legal as keeping me against my will. Don't take my word, though. Theo here is the lawyer." He turned those sharp blue eyes on Theo. "Take your lunch. Be back in an hour. Unlike you, I have a job to do."

No one said anything as the board members filed out of the conference room. Scottie didn't move, though, and neither did Howard. She remained in her seat until the door was closed after the last member and she sighed, motioning, and she saw Howard reach into his pocket and pull out a device. Just like that, they were truly alone. No recording devices, no cameras. Just them.

"What are you really here for, Scottie?" Howard asked, his voice tired, and she wondered if the act was truly being put away for just a few moments.

"Do I need more motivation than my husband framing me for an attempted murder and taking the company from me?"

"I didn't frame you, Scottie. You took Whitehall all on your own."

"But I didn't build the computer. You did though, didn't you, Howard?" She leaned forward, studying him. "You haven't been using the technology for Halcyon though. I confirmed that much."

"It's just the day of accusations, isn't it?" he grumbled.

She pursed her thin lips. "Howard, there was a day I wouldn't have questioned you on this. You knew what you believed and you stood by it, no matter who you had to stand against, but-"

"Don't try to play the innocent, worried wife, Scottie. I knew full well what you were capable of when I married you, but I never thought I'd be on the receiving end," he snapped.

"What are you doing with the tech?" Scottie pushed. "What was so important about it that you killed Kat Carson-"

"I didn't touch the girl!"

Silence followed the rare outburst and Scottie sat back. She believed him. She wasn't sure if she was losing her touch, but she believed him. She did have him riled though. Good to know she was still capable of that. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay."

"You're chasing down a dead end, Scottie. If you came back for Whitehall's tech, you'll be disappointed."

She swallowed hard, glancing at the door briefly. "No. I should have. I should be here to make sure you don't throw us all into chaos." He shot her an expectant look and she set her jaw. They had been honest with each other once. It seemed like so long ago, but things had been much simpler when they were. With enemies at all sides, she had always thought they would have each other's backs. "I'm here about Tom."

He tensed at the sound of their son's chosen name. "He's gone, Scottie. I thought you'd gotten the news." He motioned to the now-empty seats. "Just a moment ago-"

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. After everything, despite everything, can you do that one thing for me?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "He's gone," Howard repeated again, a little softer this time. "You've let go before. Do it again. Don't…. hold on when you know you'll never see him again."

There was a sadness in his voice, deep and filled with pain. She remembered the way he had looked at her in the mental health hospital, strapped to a wheelchair, and he had thought that the kill order might have gone through. She remembered how he had mourned with her for their boy when he'd first gone missing, and how he'd held onto that weight. She remembered how it drove him mad. "Howard," she murmured softly, but he was already on his feet. "Where are you going?"

"Lunch," he said stiffly and was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Every inch of him hurt as he sank back down into the chair, leaned back, and tried to focus through the pain. He had pushed as hard and as long as he could through the physical therapy, hoping that maybe that was the day that he might see some sort of improvement. The doctors kept telling him that he was getting there, kept encouraging him, but it felt like every step forward sent him at least two, if not three back and landed him right back in the damn chair. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been injured. Hell, it wasn't even the first time someone had taken a knife to him to try to cut him in half. He should have been up and more mobile by this point.

Tom let his eyes drift open at the sound of a question over his shoulder. He grimaced as he forced himself to sit upright and look over, the nurse repeating the offer to wheel him back to his room. "I got it," he managed, shifting a little and offering her a small smile that he hoped would convince her. She didn't look entirely convinced, but also not certain enough to argue with him over it. That left her in an awkward state of limbo, hesitating without leaving.

"Don't go getting the nurses in trouble by convincing them to go against orders," Nez's voice drifted into the room and she winked in Tom and the nurse's direction.

The injured man rolled his eyes. "I'm never going to get my strength back if I don't push myself."

"Can't get it back if you're dead either."

"Still breathing," he countered as she rounded the chair and started pushing him forward. Well, there was no stopping her now.

"And we'd like to keep you that way."

"And wheeling myself down the hall isn't going to change that. Nez, I need to-"

"Tom, if you'd stop arguing with me half a second to get a word in you'd hear that I'm not just taking you back to your room."

That peaked his interest. He looked back at her, wincing a little at the pull of his muscles, but she only smirked without loosing another word. They continued in silence, Tom finally settling into it. He was tired. He was always tired these days. At some point he'd gotten tired of being tired. Every day seemed more or less the same between the routine of medication, therapy, visits from Nez and Howard when one or both were at the location, roadblocks when he asked for information, and then it all started again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd napped so often in between everything else. Probably the last time he'd been shot.

This was different though. Surprises weren't something that Howard encouraged. Nez seemed proud of herself as she wheeled him down, though, and he had never realized how big this place was. It wasn't just a medical facility. It wound around into what looked like it could have been an underground bunker with scattered Halcyon personnel along the way. Tom did his best to take in the actual path through the halls, onto the elevator, and down a level. The doors opened to reveal a large room, half put together, and he spotted a familiar face in the middle directing the set up.

Dumont DeSoto turned towards them as his expression lit. "Tom-Tom. Looking better, man. I would have come to you though."

"He needed to get out or he was going to go stir crazy," Nez answered and Tom couldn't counter it. As tired as he had been, he felt like this little trip had given a second wind.

Tom's lips quirked up at one corner into a lopsided smile. "Anything looks better than dead," he told the tech genius. "Good to see you too, Dumont. You moving in?"

The dark brown gaze swept over him briefly, taking in everything, and Tom hated the pity in his eyes. "I guess you've been out of the loop. It was supposed to just be a visit, but then Scottie showed up at Halcyon and Howard thought it'd be…. better to work from a different location. Figured it couldn't hurt to get the team back together, right? Most of us, anyway, and I'm finally gonna get to work directly with Whitehall to-"

"Whitehall?" Tom demanded, cutting off the rambles. The news about Scottie didn't surprise him at all. It had only been a matter of time before his mother fought his father for control of the company again, but no one had mentioned the scientist that had been the center of so much turmoil.

Dumont ducked his head just a little. "I thought he knew," he directed at Nez.

"You've already opened your mouth. Better spill it all," Tom said, and there was just a hint of danger to his voice, even if he couldn't quite back it up.

It didn't take a lot to guess what Dumont would say, though. Howard had told him that they had used an experimental drug that Halcyon had been developing to save him. What Howard hadn't mentioned was that it was a drug developed by Whitehall or by his technologies.

Tom had struggled to compartmentalize his questions to focus on healing, on pushing himself to get better. He needed to so that he could be there for Liz, but that didn't mean that there weren't more questions than there were answers when it came to Scottie's arrest. That wasn't necessarily new. Kat Carlson had been convinced that Howard had set her up and she'd been willing to die to get him that evidence. He had gotten the call from Kaplan while giving his statement to the police, though, and he'd had another mystery to solve. At first he had tucked the jumpdrive away, a silent promise said to the dead woman that as soon as he had solved the mystery to help his wife find the truth about the man that had turned out to be her father that he'd follow up on the evidence. As the mystery with the bones stretched out, no end in sight, he'd made the difficult decision to pass what little he knew along to Agent Lamb that was the lead agent on Scottie's case. He'd asked that his name stayed off the record unless Lamb had no other choice, and then he'd turned his full attention to uncovering the mystery. Obviously Lamb had found enough that a judge had decided to let Scottie go, but what he'd found and to what extent Howard had actively gone after Scottie, he couldn't be sure.

"I spoke to him," Nez said, her voice calmer than Tom felt. "Whitehall went quiet after Scottie was arrested, but I thought I saw him once, really late and after everyone had left for the night. I didn't have time to ask Howard at the time. You were hurt pretty soon after and suddenly we had this drug that…" He watched her expression carefully. "They had called it. You were dead, Tom. I've never seen a medication work like that. If that's what's coming out of Whitehall's discovery then I think he chose to work with the right Hargrave." Pale eyes met his own, and he could swear that she was reading his mind. "Nothing's ever black and white in the world of espionage, right?"

A long moment passed, all the secrets and lies and half truths battering around in his mind, and Tom's lips tipped downward. "No it's not." He pulled in a deep breath, loosing it on a half cough and redirecting his attention to Dumont. "So what new and exciting things have you been working on since I've been out of the loop?"

Dumont grinned and started in on one of his many projects that he was working on. Tom sat and listened, reveling more in the excitement that came with Dumont's work than the actual outcome of it. He needed to be patient. Answers would come and he'd get to the bottom of everything, but for now, he had to hold onto what he could, and Dumont's explanations of all of his different projects was exactly the kind of distraction that his brain needed at the moment.

His head was throbbing as he tried to focus in on the screen in front of him, Nez giving her update on the limited information that they'd found. Dumont had cleaned up the plate on the satellite picture and together they had traced it down to a an address that was on the registration, but they would have no way to know if that was a solid lead or not without actually following up on it.

"It's up to you," Nez said. "Everything's secure here and Tom's in good hands. I can track this down and get some traction on the case."

Howard sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose and trying to will the headache away. "He's not an idiot. You disappear for a couple of days and he'll know you're tracking something down."

His best agent shot him a meaningful look. "If we don't show we're doing something, he's going to get more persistent. He's getting stronger every day and with that comes at least some energy to focus on something besides recovery. Tom wants answers, and I can't say I blame him. I'd want the same if I were in his shoes."

A soft chuckle left Halcyon's CEO. "He's stubborn."

"Couldn't imagine where he got that from," Nez answered with a smirk. "You're the boss. I'll do what you tell me to."

"I know, and you're right. Make sure Dumont keeps an eye on him and you're wheels up in the morning."

"What about you?"

Howard glanced out towards his office door and the empty lobby beyond. "I'm stuck here until they make a decision, but that should be coming soon. As soon as they cut Scottie loose again I can fly back out there. Whitehall is due for a visit with Dr Gramble to reevaluate Tom's progress and the dosage levels on his medication. I don't like sending him in alone."

"You think they'll turn her loose?"

"Nothing's changed. Not really." Nez pursed her lips together and Howard could almost feel her indecision through the monitor. "Go on," he urged. "I've never asked you to hold back before. I'm not going to start now."

She gave a sharp nod. "Listen… I'm not here to judge between the two of you. I know I have pieces of what's happened and that you both probably…. bent the rules to get what you needed done, but… do you really think that she downed your plane to get you out of the way?"

"I do."

"Why? I've worked pretty close with her, and she can be focused, but... What did you find that makes you think she's even capable of doing that to you?"

The elevator sounded off an alert that someone was on their way up outside and Howard heaved a sigh. "It's not as much what I found, Nez. It's what I always knew she was capable of. You'll have to trust me when I say that you don't know the real Scottie, only what she wants you to know. Let me know if there are any complications with your lead."

"Yes sir." There was no hesitation there, no further questions, as Nez signed off and the elevator opened. They didn't take the stairs this time. No one was trying to sneak up on him.

A young woman stepped off of the elevator and moved towards Howard's office. He recognized her as Theo's personal assistant. She was tall and tan with sharp, dark eyes. She looked a great deal like Theo's wife had twenty years earlier, though the blaring difference was in the way that she looked like she would be able to slit a man's throat without blinking. Howard made a mental note to quietly ask about her background and see if she'd started as an operative. "Sheila, isn't it?" he greeted with a charming smile he tended to reserve for the board members. She might not have an official seat, but she was here on Theo's request.

"It is," she answered curtly. "Your presence has been requested in the boardroom."

"And a phone call was too much?" he chuckled as he stood, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and straightening his tie that he'd pulled down just a bit.

"I just follow orders," Sheila told him and Howard was certain she must have started as an operative.

He didn't bother with any more small talk as he circled around the desk and wondered briefly if he should have found a way to subtly tuck a sidearm away for the trip in the elevator with her. He didn't think Theo hated him enough to send someone to put him down, but if he'd aligned with Scottie, there was no telling what lengths they might go to. The good news was that any meddling with the camera feeds would have been picked up by Dumont, which would immediately be forwarded over to him. The likelihood of someone getting away with it within Halcyon's walls was very, very slim. Well, anyone but him. If someone was going to try to kill him, it would be done elsewhere.

It was getting late and most of the non-essential personnel had gone home for the evening. Phyllis still manned her desk, though, and Howard offered her a smile and a nod of thanks as he passed by and into the boardroom where men and women sat around the long table, Scottie already seated at one end. He kept his head held high as he pulled the chair out at the opposite end and took his own seat. "I take it you've reached your verdict."

"We have," Theo said tightly, almost as if he weren't happy with the outcome. Good. That's just the way that Howard needed it.

The lawyer didn't say anything further as another board member, Jesse Halloway, cleared his throat. "As you know, we haven't taken this lightly, Howard."

"I'd say so. It's taken you over a week to come to a decision that was made months ago," Howard said blandly.

Jesse shook his head, a small smile playing. "After everything that's happened, neither of you have what the board would say is a trustworthy record. We don't have definitive evidence on who took the plane down or exactly what happened with Whitehall or the timeline of it. Dr Whitehall himself is next to impossible to contact, and even when we were finally able to reach him a few days ago, he refused to answer questions without a lawyer present. Resources could be used for a full investigation, but it would be next to impossible to make sure that one or both of you weren't swaying the final results." He loosed a long breath, purposefully ignoring the way that Theo shifted in the seat next to him, his own dark gaze latched on Howard like he thought that he could will him out just by glaring. "We've all known you both for years, and no matter what issues you have between each other, this company thrives under Hargrave leadership."

"My company does," Howard bit out.

"This company does," Jesse countered, "and that's why the board has come to the decision that you will both sit at the head."

The room was dead silent, and after a long moment Howard finally risked a glance over to Scottie to see she hadn't been leaked any information before walking in either. She looked as shocked as he felt. "If you expect us to-"

"This is an intelligence company made of up of some of the most talented operatives and agents that have ever passed through US and foreign espionage units, Scottie," Jesse countered. "Yes, we expect you to put aside whatever personal problems the two of you have and run the damn company. You either do that or you both step down. That's the decision on the table. You have forty-eight hours to decide. Take it, think on it, and be back here to give us your answer."

Howard's wife sat back in her chair, her expression closing off immediately. He pulled in a breath. "If that's all then," he said slowly, standing, "I'll see you back here in forty-eight hours."

He didn't wait for permission to leave. He didn't need to. At that moment he needed to make sure his jet was fueled up, Whitehall was ready to go, and that everything was set to keep Tom on the path to recovery. He had forty-eight hours to do that, because once he and Scottie were both at the helm, things would have to change. He would be under more scrutiny than usual and if he weren't careful, someone would find out that Tom was alive. Until he knew who went after his son, he didn't dare let that rumour spread.

"Howard, wait."

He bristled at the sound of Scottie's voice. "I have things to take care of."

"I'm sure you do," Scottie answered lowly and when he turned to look at her he saw something hidden just behind her eyes. Exactly what it was, he wasn't quite sure yet, but it reminded him of a struggle. "We never finished our conversation about Christopher - Tom - the other day."

"What is there to say?"

"Do you have someone looking into it?"

"Of course I do. Do you think I'd let our son's murderer walk free?"

She set her jaw, watching him, and he knew that look. She was looking for a lie. She wouldn't find one there. "Have you found anything?"

Howard snorted. "I have forty-eight hours until I'm forced to share my intel with you, Scottie. Until then, have a nice time in the dark."

He turned, but she caught hold of his arm, long fingers latching around his coat sleeve. "This is our son."

"Was. He was our son. Now he's gone." He pulled away with that, stalking down the hall. He had too much on his plate to deal with Scottie. There'd be enough of that when his reprieve ended.

Notes: It may be an off week for Blacklist, but here's a chapter of Breathe Again Beneath the Flames for your Wednesday :D

I will be updating every Wednesday and Saturday for the foreseeable future. I'm just writing too fast not to. I would switch it to three times a week but I'm worried that would just be too much too fast. Not sure. These chapters are ranging between 3.5K-4K each.

Next Time: Tom and Howard talk about choices made, Scottie receives big news, and Katarina acts on an impulse.

Chapter Text

Dumont didn't seem to mind having him in his space. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. Tom let him rattle on and on about various experiments, inventions, and even the occasional slip up in which he divulged something about a case Howard had him working. From the pieces of information that Tom could glean he'd discovered that Dumont had been working to identify a vehicle that one of their satellites had caught a partial image of outside of his and Liz's apartment the night they had been attacked. While Dumont stumbled around actually giving him information on if they'd found any identifying markers, Nez's sudden departure that morning certainly made him think that they had, and all Tom could hope for was something to go on. He was tired of waiting. He'd never been good at sitting back and let others do the heavy lifting, even if he'd been benched.

"You wouldn't be pumping Dumont for information, would you?"

Tom blinked, pulling himself from Dumont's story and turning to see Howard standing at the door. He looked tired, even if he was wearing a shadow of a smile, and Tom shifted. "Hey. Welcome back."

"I didn't mean to be gone quite as long as I was, but some business came up-"

"Nez told me about Scottie."

Howard stopped, tilting his head a little. "Of course she did," he huffed, but didn't seem too put out about it. He moved further into the room, his eyes lingering on Tom until he stopped in front of him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. A little better every day."

"Good. That's the right direction," he answered and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. The touch was brief, but it was enough to stir up conflicting opinions about his father. As soon as he'd laid his hand down, it was gone again, though, and Howard turned his gaze over to Dumont. "Whitehall's here. I hope you don't mind sharing your space here. It's a bit limited."

Dumont lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Share a space with the man that cracked quantum computing? I think I can manage that."

"Not going to hide that one anymore?" Tom asked, his tone not quite accusing, but he shot Howard a look.

Howard smirked ever so slightly. "You're a smart man, Tom. If Nez or Dumont one hasn't told you by this point, then you've worked it out for yourself that it was a Whitehall drug that saved your life."

Tom's lips thinned out as he looked up, studying the older man and trying to determine if he was relenting for the reason he said that he was or if he was simply doing damage control to encourage trust.

Howard cleared his throat when his son didn't respond. "If you wouldn't mind helping him with some of his equipment, Dumont? This can be a bit of a maze."

Dumont seemed to pick up on the hint, glanced to Tom just a moment, and then set his own work down with a small nod. Tom watched him leave, settling back in the chair.

"He's been working on a thinner vest for operatives on in the field," Tom ventured as Howard moved to look at the workstation. "Supposed to be less visible, absorb more of the impact."

Howard ran his fingers over the specs. "He's impressive. It's one of the reasons I'd like to have him work with Whitehall. Imagine what they could do together?" He pushed a breath out through his nose and finally looked over.

Tom met his gaze, but couldn't help but feel like his father was studying him for some reason. "What?" he asked after a long moment.

"Just something that came up while meeting with the board. They seem to be under the impression that you were the one that called the ambulance for Kat Carlson."

So that was it. Tom had known it was a matter of time before something was said to broach this subject, either on Howard's end or his own. He shifted to sit back a little more in the chair. "She came to me before she died. She thought Scottie had been set up."

There was a brief flash of something behind the calculation in Howard's eyes. "You're the reason they let her loose," he breathed.

Tom held his gaze. "She gave me a piece of evidence and I passed it over to the authorities."

"Without looking into it?"

"I was a little preoccupied with Liz's family drama by that point." He paused, tilting his head. "Afraid of what I would have found if I had?"

Howard huffed, turning away from him. "You are your mother's son with the accusations. She thought I had something to do with that girl's death-"

"Did you?" The question escaped and Tom saw Howard tense at that.

"How could you even question that, son?"

"Because I don't know you, Howard," the younger man snapped. "You dropped into my life through a misdirect and have been dishing out half-truths that rival Reddington's since. I still don't know if it was to actually be a part of my life or if you just needed to be able to manipulate the situation with Scottie-"

"Tom."

He stopped, realizing that he was working himself up. He had put off the questions as best as he could since the day that Kat had died. He'd been called away from the hospital by Kate Kaplan who had given him instructions to pick up a suitcase that would supposedly provide answers that Liz had been looking for about her past with Reddington. He had needed to focus on that, so he had sent the jump drive to Agent Lamb and had done his best to let it go. It was in the FBI's hands at that point and it hadn't been hard to avoid Howard. He didn't call often; didn't even seem to remember that his son or his family existed. His focus had been on Halcyon and - now Tom knew - Whitehall. Not that he should have been surprised. The man had surveillance of him from before Agnes had been born. Rebuilding a relationship clearly wasn't his number one priority, no matter what he'd said.

But then he'd saved his life and he still didn't understand why. It didn't fit the idea that Howard had just been using him and it complicated things more than Tom liked. Nothing was black and white in the world of espionage, Nez had said, and it was much easier to accept when it was his own ability to work somewhere in between, rather than finding himself on the receiving end of it.

"Hey." Howard's voice was soft and it pulled Tom's attention back to him as he pulled a chair around and took a seat so he wasn't standing over him. "Yes, I have taken advantage of Whitehall's discoveries. I don't have to tell you that if his inventions fell into the wrong hands how dangerous that it could be-"

"Scottie's being the wrong hands?"

"You don't know her like I do, Tom. What she's capable of."

"I got a pretty good idea when she had Solomon tie me to a chair for a few cheap swings with a sock full of billiard balls," Tom growled. "Listen, I'm well are that neither of you are exactly innocent. You're in the spy game. No one is." He pulled in a breath, feeling exhaustion tug at him as he did. "I just need to know that I can trust you. That you're being straight with me."

"That's fair," Howard murmured. "Entirely fair. What do you want to know?"

Tom stared for a moment. He hadn't been expecting that. He didn't expect the first question that tumbled from his lips either, even if he should have. "Why'd you save me?"

Howard looked a little hurt over it. "Because you're my son. If it's in my power, I'm going to protect you in any way I know how."

The words sounded sincere, but he wasn't sure if he just wanted them to. Tom shifted, lifting a hand to run his fingers along his dark hair and smoothing it back. It was getting long again.

"Do you really think Scottie crashed your plane or was it just something to pin on her?"

"I know she did."

"Why?"

He paused at that, his eyes darting so that he didn't have to meet Tom's. "You don't know her like I do, son. The moment she decided I didn't belong at the head of Halcyon she was going to make it happen. She couldn't push me out, so she tried to kill me."

Tom's gaze shifted behind towards the door as a figure moved into the opening. Richard Whitehall looked just as disheveled as he had the day that he and Howard had busted in to rescue him from Scottie. Those dark eyes were focused entirely on Tom. "Well you look better than the last time I saw you."

"Actually conscious?"

The scientist smirked at the statement.

Howard stood. "If you're up for it, Tom, we need to run some tests to see where we stand on your recovery."

Tom watched him for a moment. "You know the conversation isn't over."

"I know," Howard said simply and his son nodded. Every step in this got him one step closer to Liz and Agnes. Of course he was up for it.

Scottie had meant to spend the time until she and Howard needed to give their decisions to the board looking into Tom's death and searching down any evidence that might lead her to think that he was alive. If he was and Howard was keeping that from her again, it would set the tone for how she would approach him moving forward. If he was alive, she would find her son, no matter who tried to stand in her way.

It seemed a little like fate when she received the encrypted email with a time and a place on it, the letter K the only indication she had of who had sent it. Solomon hadn't been pleased with the idea of going, pointing out that they stood in a very delicate place these days, and one wrong move could end them both. He hadn't been any more thrilled when Scottie had pointed out that no one was forcing him to stay.

He was antsier than she had ever seen him before as she took a seat on the park bench. She watched him refuse to join, his suspicious expression at odds with the early morning sun and the general ease of those walking and riding the bike trail. His dark eyes darted back and forth as suddenly as they could, watching as people passed by them. Couples, men and women out walking their dogs, even a man pushing a stroller. No one was above suspicion, and it was more than Scottie would have expected from the cool-tempered man. "Something you feel like sharing, Matias?" she asked from her place on the park bench, a small smile playing on her lips.

His lips twitched down, his gaze lingering on her only for a moment before returning to its careful sweep. "I don't tend to question your judgement, Scottie-"

"Then why break the mold that's working so well?"

"-but whatever you think you know about Katarina Rostova is likely only the tip of the iceberg. She hasn't kept her secrets this long by leaving people that know them alive."

Scottie tilted her head to the side just a little. "Are you afraid of her?"

"I'm realistic," he groused and she found herself laughing just a little.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you've met Katarina Rostova."

"Never face to face, but there was one time-"

Solomon froze and Scottie's smile didn't fade at the sight of the inconspicuous woman that had been walking behind him that simply hadn't continued. From the looks of it she had a weapon of some kind against the small of his back and she tipped up up on her toes, her lips brushing against dark skin as she whispered something so quiet in his ear that Scottie couldn't quite make out the words. Katarina still knew how to use every charm she'd had when she was young.

After just a moment Solomon's expression shifted and any nerves were tucked away and hidden, his demeanor oozing confidence in the way that Scottie had come to appreciate. "Ms. Rostova, it's been… at least a decade."

"Don't let Matias here tell the story," Katarina all but purred, slipping around to his right and Scottie saw her slip a knife into her jacket pocket. "He always gets it wrong."

"Do tell," the dark haired woman chuckled as she watched the amusement dance in her old friend's eyes.

"He never laid eyes on me. Close, but I was always at least two steps ahead of him."

Scottie leaned back, relaxing in her seat. "Please tell me you didn't spend your time in the Cabal chasing ghosts."

"Oh but he did," Katarina answered lightly, those blue eyes of hers lingering on Solomon in a way that could have easily been taken as an invitation or a warning of the pain she could bring into his world. Really, the looks weren't a great deal different from what Scottie had seen, and one could very easily be mistaken for the other. She thought that Kat liked it that way. It had certainly helped her in her line of work over the years.

"I wasn't wrong though," Solomon said, his voice smooth as silk and his gaze swept towards her. Now that he had a living, breathing person in his sight he was all charm. "No matter what you had the leadership in the Cabal convinced of, you were and are very much alive."

"I hear you split ways with them." Katarina tilted her head to the side a little. "Or were forced out."

"I needed a change of scenery."

"And Scottie scooped you up." Blue eyes flickered over to the seated Hargrave. "Well done."

"I haven't been disappointed yet. I don't think we're here to discuss my employees though."

"Employees?" One ginger eyebrow quirked upward. "Wouldn't you need a company for that?"

"It won't hit the presses for a few days yet, but the board has made their decision."

That caught Katarina's undivided attention and suddenly Solomon held little interest for her. She slipped all the way around him and took a seat on the park bench next to Scottie. "And Howard?"

"We'll be running it together. He won't give his place at the top up."

"Then you've gotten to him."

A small sound escaped Scottie and she pulled in a deep breath, looking away for just a moment. "No, not yet," she breathed back out.

Katarina snorted. "We've discussed this, Scottie. It's imperative for the two of you to be united."

"Discussed is a strong word for our last chat."

"Then we're discussing it now. You're free because you need to be free for this. I helped your husband not because he asked, not because I owed him anything, but because I need him on our chess board. So do you."

"You keep talking like we're in something together, Kat, but you haven't told me what that something is."

The redhead paused, her pretty blue eyes wide and for just a moment Scottie found herself wondering if she'd gone a little mad over the years. She didn't communicate with her often, and had only spoken to her a handful of times since her supposed death thirty years prior. She had laid eyes on her more in the last few months than she had in the last decade.

"We've run from it for so long," she murmured thoughtfully. "We thought we could save them, but they still took them from us. They're still trying to take them from us, Scottie. Are we going to let them?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "Kat, if you want my help you need to be straight with me. You have to give me something to go off of."

"I'm not asking you to help me. I'm asking you to help them. Masha-" her gaze flickered to catch dark brown eyes- "and Christopher."

Scottie's expression fell and she shook her head. "Kat, Christopher is- I haven't found anything to make me believe he's alive. Not yet. I don't know if I will."

Katarina's lips stretched and she reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out an envelope folded and tucked away there to hand over. As Scottie took it, she realized that one was folded inside another. "Something for you and something for you to win over Howard," Katarina explained with a little mischief dancing in her eyes. "You've been in this game long enough to know things are rarely what they look like. The man in that file on the top is the one that took your son most recently. Howard is the one that can help you get him back." She stood, and for the first time Scottie noticed that she was wearing what looked like nursing scrubs under her jacket. She nodded towards the file. "That's a sign of good will, to both you and to help you work your way in with your husband. Be careful who you let see that."

Solomon shook his head as the former KGB agent offered a wink in his direction and he squared his shoulders a little as he watched her continue down the trail. "I'll admit, she is everything I hoped for."

"You should have known her in her prime."

"In my experience, spies only get better as they get older."

"Or they die," Scottie agreed, carefully smoothing out the folders.

"Are you sure you want to open that here?"

She ignored his question, even if it was valid. They were out in the open where anyone could see, but she couldn't wait. If this could lead her to her son - either living or dead - she couldn't wait. Long, nimble fingers worked the envelope open and she tugged at the files, pulling them up so that she could see them. She found crime scene photos of her son's home torn and bodies laid out. She hoped that he'd put at least one or two of them down in the struggle. Forensics and notes were written up, all of which she hadn't had the authority to access yet, including details about the dead men and two that she didn't scene amongst the deceased. One was a large man, red hair, and he had ties to the Nash Syndicate. He was currently a person of interest in the open case. The other was a man dressed in a suit. He was heavy set, glasses perched on his thick nose, and a scowl that made even her uneasy. There was nothing that said he was linked to the investigation, nor even that the police were looking into him. Katarina had nothing in the file on how she'd linked him to the case. If Scottie knew the woman at all, she expected the Hargraves to work together for that particular morsel.

Solomon let out a low whistle and motioned down the way. Scottie's gaze followed the long finger and she stopped, blinking hard to make sure she was reading it correctly.

"Our boy's a Marshal. Scottie, Halcyon or no Halcyon-"

"We have to be smart about this," she agreed, pushing the papers back into place and lowering her voice. "That's why I have you. Are you with me?"

"I don't scare quite that easily."

"Good. Then I want you to dig everything you can up on Ian Garvey."

"Any chance that second envelope leads us to a way to take him down?"

Scottie chuckled, pulling that one open as well, and as she tugged the pixilated photo from its hiding place she thought she felt the world shift under her.

She had considered approaching him over the years. Perhaps when she had seen him in a Parisian café or in a market in Tel Aviv. She had found herself wondering what would happen if he looked over at just the right time. Their eyes would meet through the crowd, her lips quirking up at the gaping expression on his usually composed features, and then she would be gone again like the ghost she was, leaving him to wonder if she'd ever really been there at all.

Katarina Rostova had played the scenario in her mind more than once, but in the end it really made little difference. She would never approach him, no matter where he was. Any place would be the wrong place, and she knew it. It was wrong for him, wrong for her, and most of all, wrong for Masha. They were supposed to step out of her life. That had been best for her.

Raymond had never stayed away well, though. He'd lurked in the shadows of her life for years, and more recently he couldn't even keep himself to the shadows. It had taken every inch of her self control to let it play out when he had brought the spotlight around to her, all of the hard work they had put into hiding her away from the Cabal undone and unraveled.

She had thought that it had settled down again. It was difficult to keep tabs and stay distant, stay hidden, so she chose the latter. If Howard hadn't called on her connections she never would have known. But he had, and he had sent her a photo of a man that looked like little Christopher Hargrave might as an adult. When she had found the man's name, there had been no question left that Christopher had found Masha somehow in their adult years. He had found her, and he had died for her.

Or perhaps not. Much like Raymond, Howard was a stubborn man that had one or two people that he would throw caution to the wind for.

Raymond had been called away on business and Katarina had made an impulse decision to see their daughter. Masha - Liz, as she went by now - was still unconscious after the brutal attack that had left her comatose. Katarina was able to slip by security with some effort and a set of scrubs. She found Masha sleeping, just as she had been told. There was something different in knowing it and seeing it for herself, though. Photos hadn't done her daughter justice. She'd grown from a beautiful little girl to a beautiful woman, even as battered as she was at that moment.

Katarina moved to the machines, careful not to linger staring too long and draw attention, even if she were taking in every detail where she could. She was caught up enough in it that she didn't notice the man at the door until she caught him out of the corner of her eye.

He wasn't one of Raymond's, at least not as far as she recognized. He looked like a cop in his suit and tie and unmovable pale ginger hair. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm not sure when visiting hours are, but the lady at the front desk said it shouldn't be an issue."

"It's fine," Katarina assured him. "I'm just checking in and then I'll be out of your way." She turned back to the monitors, listening as he rounded the bed hesitantly. "How do you know her?"

"She's my partner," the fed said gruffly, the strain in his voice just barely contained. "I… hadn't been by yet. I wasn't sure what good it would do. Does she even know?"

"It's hard to say. Some do, some don't." Her blue gaze drifted over to find him staring at Masha.

"I guess it's better to be here and her not know than the other way around."

"She's lucky to have such a loyal partner."

He snorted, not looking convinced. He didn't move from his spot, but he didn't take a seat either, and Katarina thought he might be waiting for her to leave. She should, she knew. The longer she stayed the more likely it was that someone might spot her and remember her face. She pressed her lips together thoughtfully, leaned over Masha as if she were checking the monitor attached to her finger, her hand lingering against her daughter's for just a moment before she moved towards the door. As she rounded out into the hallway, she could hear the fed begin to speak softly to her. She was in good hands, and if she was going to make sure it stayed that way, Katarina had a job to do.

Notes: I was so excited that Ress got a small scene in this chapter. It was unexpected, but made me absurdly happy. It's killing me not working with the Task Force right now and Ress is definitely going to get a much bigger part in upcoming chapters, but for now, with Liz out for the count, the focus is over on Halcyon and that team. I'm several chapters ahead in writing right now and I'm getting to the point where I'm inching closer and closer to wrapping more of our favourite characters slowly into the main story. It's a balancing act, but one I'm really looking forward to.

Because I'm so far ahead on writing I've been trying to find ways to distract myself from it. If all goes as planned I may actually have another fan vid posted to my YouTube channel and Tumblr today based in this story setting, so if you like that kind of stuff, keep an eye out for it this afternoon, and feel free to leave me a wave on it if you do! I' love hearing from you guys :D

Next Time: Compromises are struck across the board.

Chapter Text

Tom had always been one to roll with the punches. It was what had gotten him through some of the darkest days and all of the dangerous ones. He adjusted where he needed to, finding the right place to shift so that things worked out right. He had always been a quick learner in that way.

Now, though, everything was at a standstill. It had been months since he and Liz had been attacked and he was stuck doing nothing about it. Nothing of any consequence, anyway. Howard was convinced that his entire focus needed to be on healing, and he had tried that, leaving him with little to show for it. All of the victories seemed so mundane. He wasn’t dozing off quite as much and he had finally gotten to his feet as long as there was something to help support his weight, but all in all it wasn't enough. It was too slow. It didn’t get him back to his daughter. He couldn't go to his wife. Hell, he was yet to hold his hands steady long enough to shave - something he had grumbled about all the way when Nez finally cornered him on it - much less hold a gun. There were days that the little progress he had made felt worthless for the time it had taken for him to get there.

But he still had his mind and despite the constantly changing doses of medication that the doctors had him on he was still sharp, and that had to count for something.

Dr Gramble was encouraging him to use the cane when he could, and as exhausted as it left him, Tom was more than willing to take advantage of the limited freedom it provided. He used the short outings disguised as exercise to get a better idea of the layout of his location and to look for any options that would allow him to work around his shadows to find out more about what had happened.

Tom loosed a long breath, feeling the muscles in his side cramp painfully at the strain he was putting on himself and he leaned heavily on the cane he was using. He could feel the way his legs had begun to shake and his knuckles were turning white from his grip. He might be getting a little further each day, but apparently he'd pushed beyond the limit on that one.

Dark blue eyes swept the hall. It was empty, which wasn't abnormal. Howard kept limited staff there and most of those were medical. A few guards moved in and around, but Nez was the only operative Tom recognized. No one seemed to be in this hall, which would either be the best or the worst case if he ended up in a heap on the floor.

“Hey, Tom-Tom. You doing okay, buddy?”

Tom nearly lost his balance at the sudden voice at his back. He tried to turn, left knee folding under him as he did, and he sank back against the wall for additional support. When he finally pried his eyes back open he saw Dumont standing there, laptop in hand, and his expression a little worried. “Yeah, golden,” Tom grumbled, trying to straighten himself up.

“Didn't realize you were getting this far down on your own yet.” The taller man lifted an eyebrow at that and Dumont chuckled. “C’mon. I just got something in I think you'll be interested in.”

The peeked Tom’s interest and he carefully pushed himself off the wall again and followed Dumont into the first available room. “Whole place is full of empty rooms and hideaways,” the tech expert was saying as he sauntered over to the table in the middle, pausing just long enough to make sure Tom didn’t need help. Thankfully, though, he didn’t force it, and Tom eased his way over to a chair that was just waiting on him and sank down gratefully.

“I’ve noticed. Howard’s really taking the secret thing to a whole new level.”

“The more people that know you’re alive, the bigger the chance the information slips out to the wrong people.”

Tom’s head snapped to look back at the door and Nez shot him a grin and nodded to shorter man behind him. “Thanks for the heads up, Dumont.”

“Been looking for me?”

“It doesn’t look good on me when you go missing.”

Tom shook his head, a small smile creeping into place. “Nothing interesting to see here, is there?” he asked Dumont, and the other man chuckled.

“Depends if you think what we’ve been looking into on your case is interesting or not.”

“Say what?” Tom managed, looking between the two. Nez was smirking and Dumont grinned openly. Well they did know how to get his attention. He’d been harassing both of them for any piece of information he could get about anything. He would have taken the case, or Liz and Agnes, or even just where the hell he was right then. They had shut down tight, the running mantra always that he needed to focus on getting better and let them do their jobs. “You two made it pretty damn clear you were with Howard on me getting involved.”

“You’re not getting involved,” Nez said simply. “You’re just getting looped in on what we have. You’re not going anywhere, you’re not doing anything with it.”

He pushed an amused breath out through his nose. “Me skipping out is starting to become a real fear, isn’t it?”

Nez quirked an eyebrow at him. “Did Dumont not just find you half collapsed against a wall?” He set his jaw and she flashed a grin.

“We get it, man,” Dumont offered. “You’re stuck here, your girls are out there, and there’s a guy that tried to kill you. We’d be going stir crazy too.”

“So we’re going to work with you if you’re willing to work with us,” Nez said, taking a seat on the edge of the table.

They were offering him an olive branch. A compromise to stop him from pushing too hard and to keep him from going stark raving mad while trapped in this prison that his father thought would keep him safe. “Howard know about this?”

Nez’s pale gaze caught his. “Howard has his own problems right now. He sent us here to help you and this is the judgement call we’re making.”

“We’re a team… even if you did decide to leave Halcyon,” Dumont said with a small smirk of his own.

Tom grinned. “There it is. I knew that was coming up sooner or later.”

“Hey, if I had a wife that looked like yours at home, I wouldn’ta lasted as long as you did.”

The smile remained, but softened a little at the thought of Liz. He needed to focus, both on getting back into fighting shape and finding out more about the man that had attacked them. When she she woke up - and he knew she would. He had never met someone stronger than Elizabeth Scott Keen - he needed to be ready for her. “Okay,” he breathed out after a long moment, “what do you guys have so far?”

It had been a cold homecoming to Halcyon when she’d returned weeks earlier. Some of the staff welcomed her openly, happy to see her back, but she could feel eyes on her at every turn. It wasn’t a great deal different than when Howard had first started to spiral and she had had to step up and take on more responsibilities in the management position, though this time he’d painted her out to be a traitor and a villain. He’d certainly done well enough to poison people against her and she wondered just how much of it he actually believed and how much of it was convenient.

There had been a time when they had been close. They respected each other just as much as they loved each other and while she couldn’t say that they never kept secrets, they did know that they had each other’s backs.

Until the day that they didn’t.

Exactly when that was she still had trouble pinpointing. She’d been over it enough times in her mind, combing over the details of their lives. The parties, the board meetings, the dinners.  So many couples that went through what they had simply didn’t make it, but they had been solid for each other once, and she’d watch that wash away bit by bit over the years until his obsession with Christopher’s disappearance tore him apart.

Or maybe that had all been an act. Maybe that’s just what he wanted her to believe. There were still so many questions left unanswered, so many that he wouldn’t trust her to answer or perhaps she shouldn’t trust the words spilling from his clever tongue, but if she had something when it came to Howard, at least she was relatively sure he wasn’t selling off Whitehall’s experiments to the highest bidder. She knew what he was using the man for, even if it may not have been his original purpose. It was at least a place to start, and Katarina seemed certain that whatever was coming for them required not one, but two Hargraves to fight it. She always had leaned more towards a flare for the dramatic.

Scottie set her mask of calm firmly into place as the elevator doors opened, releasing her into the lobby. She had taken the only other office on the floor when she had been reinstated. It had been the one she had kept before he had disappeared, before he had faked his own death. Howard had offered it up, but she wasn’t fool enough to think it was a peace treaty. He wanted to keep an eye on her. It was the same reason he had barely left Halcyon since their forty-eight hour reprieve to make their decision.

He didn’t look up when she turned to his office instead of hers. He was bent over his desk, searching over something with all the focus of a man obsessed. She watched him for a long moment, that clever mind of his working faster than most people could process. He was always looking for the angles, calculating every direction that situation my go in. He had proven to be an excellent point man in Halcyon and was a brilliant strategist, but Kat was right. None of that would help her if she didn’t have an in with him.

“This is never going to work unless we trust each other.”

She heard him snort softly, pen scribbling against paper, but he didn’t bother to look up at her. “That would require us to actually trust each other, Scottie.” He’d known she was there. Of course he had. “Forgive me if I’m hesitant on that particular fool’s errand.”

“Says the man that put me in prison for months,” she groused, unable to keep it to herself.

“You managed that on your own, Scottie.” His gaze finally flickered up. “Kidnapping is a dangerous business. So is attempted murder.”

There it was. He was still convinced that she’d been the one to try to kill him. For a long while she had thought that it might have been a power play and that he knew that, no matter how far they might take this spat of theirs, she would never physically hurt him. Well, she’d never kill him. Now, though, she was fairly certain he believed the suspicion. If it had been an easier thing to accept than to consider alternatives, she wasn’t sure, but he should have known better. “Have you ever thought for a moment that maybe I didn't sabotage your plane and that there's something bigger at play?”

He snorted. “Misdirect, subterfuge, do you think I won’t see through that? You’re not an innocent victim that’s been caught up in all of this. You forget I know exactly who you are, what you are, and -” he sat back and she knew that studying expression. She’d seen it many years over, but most recently, she’d seen their son wear it while getting a read on someone - “I seem to remember that taking planes out of the sky without leaving any trace evidence was a special skill set of yours once upon a time.”

Scottie stared at him, shock working its way into her bones before her expression hardened. It had been more years than they cared to admit since either of them had dared to bring up her past. It wasn’t like it had been a surprise when he’d married her. He’d known the day they met who she worked for, had known what kind of woman she was by the time they married. The only reason to bring it up now was to deal a low blow and throw her off.

She stepped fully into the office and closed the door behind her, providing them with privacy. “What would have been the point of me taking down your plane, Howard? Of trying to kill you?”

“Moving everything into place for the Twenty-Five Year Plan?” he drawled, and his eyes remained on her, studying her.

Her thin lips twitched. “I left at the same time you did. You know that, Howard.”

“I thought I did.” His voice was cutting and he shook his head. “Maybe you are just that good. They always did want Halcyon. ”

She could feel her careful mask slipping. Her brows furrowed and the lines around her mouth deepened as she frowned, the audacity of the insinuation hitting deeper than she cared to admit. “They took our son and I didn't give to them, Howard. What the hell could they have offered to pull me back to their side?”

“You tell me, Scottie.”

“Nothing is more important to me than our boy.” She pulled in a trembling breath and made up her mind. She had a reason she was there. “Believe it or not, I came here with a peace offering. I've had some of my people-”

“Your people?” Howard echoed with a raised eyebrow.

“ My people ,” she stressed, “looking into Tom’s murder. I received a tip on the man ultimately responsible and I wanted to verify the information was coming from a reliable source. It took longer than I expected, but I did. It’s something that I think you'll want to see.”

Howard stood slowly and for a moment she thought he was going to start in again. Finally he reached for the offered envelope and she saw him frown as he did.

Scottie offered a small smirk. “Don't be too hard on your people, Howard. They would have gotten there eventually.”

He opened the folder and she saw him scanning through the pages that Katarina had supplied her with. How much of it he already knew, she wasn’t certain, but from the minor twitches in his expression she thought there were a few new items that Nez and Dumont - the only two he would trust to look into it, she knew - hadn’t uncovered yet. One of the first things she’d checked when she received access to do so was if Howard had people looking into the attack on their son, but she’d found nothing. That meant it was being conducted off-books and from a remote location that a casual sweep and audit wouldn't catch. She knew what sort of roadblocks she ran into just trying to follow the information back, and if she did, she knew they had as well. If they wanted to or not, getting to the bottom of all of this would require them to work together.

She saw him stop and it didn’t take much to guess where he was. One quick glance showed a heavy set man that was scowling through his glasses at the camera. “Had you found him yet?”

“No,” Howard breathed, likely before he realized what he was saying.

“His name is Ian Garvey. He’s the man that led the attack on Tom.”

Howard blinked rapidly like he was trying to clear his vision. “Why?”

“My guess is that you are positioned to know that information better than I am.”

That pulled his attention back to her. “My people haven’t come across that information yet.”

“Really? Not even Tom?”

Her husband loosed a frustrated sigh. “Scottie, I know how much you want to believe-”

Her thin lips stretched out into a tight, mirthless smile. “Flip to the last page.” He shot her a questioning look and she rolled her eyes. “Just do it.”

Howard shook his head but did as he was told. She watched the colour drain from his face at the sight of the fuzzy photo that had rested in Katarina Rostova’s second envelope. It was poor quality, taken from a tiny camera barely able to get past security, most likely, but Scottie hadn’t had any trouble recognizing the dark haired man in a wheelchair.

“Now that we’re being honest with one another,” Scottie prompted.

“Where did you get this?”

“A source.”

“What source?”

She shook her head, the smile returning. “You know I can’t tell you that, Howard. Not yet. I want to get to that place though. I believe that starts with ending the man that tried to kill our son.”

His gaze turned back to the open folder and he flipped back. “He’s a Marshall. He’ll be protected.”

“No one’s untouchable,” Scottie all but growled, her voice dipping down as she glared at the photo.

“No, but it does explain why it’s been so difficult to unearth certain information.” He heaved a deep breath, his gaze flickering back up to her. “What are you proposing, Scottie?”

“I think I’ve proven what I can bring to the table, not that you didn’t know. I want you to trust me, Howard, but you don’t have to. All you have to know is that this man tried to kill our son and I will do whatever it takes to bury him in the ground.”

Howard set his jaw, a rough chuckle leaving him. She could see the mischief dancing in his eyes. Good, that meant he was intrigued.  “There’s the woman I married. This won’t be easy. There’s no room for error.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re professionals, isn’t it?” Scottie reached across the desk and took the folder from him. “How about we find some time off the clock to discuss our next step?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but turned, leaving him in this office alone. They didn’t have to trust each other to protect their son, they just had to be able to work together.

Notes: I had just a little extra time over breakfast before work this morning, so I thought I'd try something new and put it up earlier in the day. I had so much fun with this chapter. I like the fact that Scottie often had a trick up her sleeve or a different angle to play in the show, so it was great to be able to go that direction here. As much as I adore Howard, he's going to have to be, uh.... convinced to play nice ;)

Big thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, and I always love to hear your thoughts on the story so far!

Chapter Text

Tracing back the information that Katarina Rostova had provided them with had proven to be a more daunting task than Solomon liked to admit. He prided himself on his efficiency, and it had taken him weeks to backtrack. He'd gotten there though, to the point that Scottie felt confident in taking it to Howard and pushing the subject. How that turned out would be an interesting discussion for another time. He was still yet to set foot back into Halcyon, even with Scottie partially at the head. Instead, she had him working in the shadows, which suited him just fine. He preferred it that way.

Matias Solomon took one glance around before slipping through the side gate of the house that should be empty at that point in the day. The husband - his mark - would be out at work, and the wife was often away at this hour. No pets, no maids. Just an empty house with an alarm system that wasn't going to be too hard to bypass for a professional like him.

A few clever turns of his picks and the lock clicked open for him, allowing him to push the patio door open with his gloved hand. The alarm beeped at him, warning him about the time limit, and he moved over to connect a small device Scottie had supplied him with. The readout gave him the numbers and he punched them in, listening as it gave a satisfied beep meant for a trusted entry.

It was a nice house, but he didn't expect anything less from the man that handled nearly all of the documentation for incoming product for the Nash Syndicate. He was a port manager, stationed there in DC, but not many port managers could have afforded this house. A quick look at his financials had shown that he came from money, but the trail to show where it really came from was much more difficult to follow. It was the one that Solomon had picked his way through and now would reap the benefits from. This was the part that he enjoyed.

He slipped through the dining area and took a turn down a long hallway, following it until he found the study. He pushed against the door, one more glance down the hallway showing that the house was, indeed, still empty.

The study was respectable enough, clean and well kept. Dark eyes swept it over quickly, taking in the decor, the desk and chairs and computer, and then finally the safe as he made his way around. There it was. That would hold what he needed.

There were days that he missed the sound of Dumont chirping in his ear, helping to work him through the op and having someone to watch his back in the form of Nez, and sometimes even Keen. That had been an interesting turn of events, but he couldn't say he was surprised. The man bounced back from everything, just like his wife, but it didn't hurt to have powerful parents. Solomon thought about the photo Scottie had been given as he squatted down in front of the safe, working at the numbers to unlock it. There was no question that it was Tom Keen, alive if not whole. He'd been seated in a wheelchair, sunk down into it and exhausted if his posture was anything to go by. The photo hadn't been clear enough to see the man's expression, but it didn't take a great deal of imagination to fill into the blanks of what a long, arduous recovery looked like. Whatever Howard had done to save him clearly hadn't come with fully restored health.

The safe didn't give a click where it should have to open and Solomon frowned. Time for Plan B.

Solomon huffed a sigh as he pulled a small detonator from his coat pocket and fit it to the safe. He stepped back, out of range, and it popped and smoked as the door swung open for him. He flashed a shark-like grin as he moved forward, sifting through the contents until he found a hardbound book, flipping through quickly before deciding that it was what he had been looking for.

From somewhere at the other end of the house he heard a door close and Solomon froze where he was. Neither of the Jawals should be home yet.

He waited, unmoving for a long moment before he finally risked straightening. The movement was slow to avoid any unsteady floorboards under his polished loafers, and when he couldn't hear any shuffling in the hall outside of the office he tucked the ledger he had been after under one arm and pulled his gun from its holster. He waited a moment more before inching forward, careful and listening hard for any noise beyond his line of sight.

The midday sun was pouring into the hallway as he exited. It was open and he moved without a sound, finger pressed carefully along the side of his gun, ready to move to the trigger at a moment's notice. Each step was intentional and his shoes didn't make a sound as he worked his way towards his exit. If he was lucky he could slip out the back before whoever was there noticed.

Luck was a fickle mistress.

Solomon came face to face with a young teen as he breached the end of the hall, aiming for the door out onto the patio so he could make his way back out through the sidegate undetected. Funny, his research hadn't said anything about a daughter.

The girl's dark eyes widened and she backpedaled, nearly falling over the kitchen table. "Please, whatever you want, just take it and go," she stammered. "M-my husband will be home soon."

That stopped him in his tracks. She wasn't the daughter. She was the wife. Well okay then. "Move out of the way, little girl, and you won't get hurt," he said, his voice velvet smooth and he watched her stumble out of this path. "You never saw my face."

He watched her shake her head no and slipped out the side door. Even if she called the cops she'd never be able to give them a decent description. He'd be long gone and he had what he needed.

"Pretty sure this is what happens when you push yourself," Nez said lightly and she received a glare for her efforts.

"This has less to do with me pushing myself and more to do with them not knowing how to calculate an experimental drug," Tom grumbled as he flopped back out on the couch he had halfway collapsed on earlier. The colour had drained from his cheeks a couple of hours earlier and hadn't made it back and he was keeping the trash bin close enough to make her question the fact that he had said he was feeling a little better. He had straight up refused to go back to his room though. Not with the piles of information that had led them nowhere in….. Nez checked her phone. Three days. He had been pushing at the research for three days.

"I don't get it," Tom huffed, shifting so he could pull himself up to sit long-ways on the couch, and she didn't miss the grimace as he did. He reached over to the laptop that had been set aside with the last wave of nausea. "You guys have been looking into this since it happened. It's not like every lead pans out every time, but-"

"We've hit too many dead ends for it to be a coincidence," Nez agreed and she heard the same frustration in her own voice that had lined his. Everywhere they turned, every file that they had reached out for through quiet contacts had been blocked. It was too much. Someone was working against them. The problem was that they didn't know who it was, so it was taking time to pinpoint down where they needed to adjust their methods.

Tom groaned as he leaned his head back again, squeezing his eyes shut. Nez quirked an eyebrow. "You know that computers and migraines don't mix, right?"

"Just gotta work through it."

"No you don't." She reached out, snatching the laptop before he could react. "That was the deal. You get to see what we've been looking at, you get to be that new set of eyes, but only as long as it doesn't interfere with your recovery."

He shot her a withering look. "It's not. I have a headache-"

"Migraine," she corrected.

"-from the medication switch. It's fine."

She rolled her eyes, snapping the laptop shut and putting it out of his immediate reach. He had been off the night before with the first new dose, but that wasn't entirely abnormal. He'd slept, but hadn't kept breakfast down that morning. Instead of going back to rest, though, she had found them in the room that they had fitted as their own base within the base. It wasn't much, but he had managed to work his way down there by himself and get situated before Nez had found him. The man was stubborn as hell, but he came by it naturally.

"You know what I think?" he asked after a long moment, drawing her attention back to him as he plucked his glasses off his nose, wiping them down with the corner of his sweatshirt.

"What's that?"

"I think he's a fed."

Nez blinked hard. That was a new theory. "What makes you say that?"

Tom sniffed, shifting a little to get comfortable. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and toyed with the rims of his glasses between his long fingers as he searched for the right words. "He knew I ran the DNA through CODIS. You have to have access to certain credentials to do that."

"How'd you do it?"

A small frown pulled at him. "Liz's badge."

"I thought she didn't know anything about this search? I thought that's what you said you were going home to tell her."

"I was."

Realization hit and Nez couldn't stop the grin. "You ass. You lifted your wife's badge, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"Uh-huh. You know, I haven't actually met your wife, but something tells me she's not the type to ask forgiveness rather than permission from."

"Hey, I did what I could with what I had."

"Or you could have just told her the truth," Nez answered with a shrug.

She received a glare for her efforts. "She'd just found out that Raymond Reddington's her father. How do you think she was going to react to knowing there was another secret he was keeping from her?" He finally replaced his glasses and cracked an eye open. "Liz can be the most forgiving or most vengeful person you'll ever meet, and sometimes that gets her into trouble. I needed to make sure we weren't chasing ghosts before bringing it to her."

"And were you?"

His expression darkened. "No."

Nez leaned back, studying him. He hadn't been willing to share the information that he'd found about the suitcase full of bones other than just that. Who they belonged to and what they meant, only Tom and Raymond Reddington knew, and Tom wasn't sharing. Nez had asked, Howard had asked, hell, she thought even Dumont had asked at one point in passing, but the man was shut down tight and no one but Elizabeth Keen was getting that information from him. "You know you can trust me, right?" Nez said after a long moment. "With what you found, I mean. Or anything."

"I know, but it's been kept from Liz too long. She's the one that needs to know."

"And the information won't help us trace back to this guy?"

"No, I don't think so." Dark blue eyes shifted up. "Any news on Liz?"

"No change."

Neither of them had anything to say on that. She'd been comatose for months now with no improvement. The doctors had saved her life, but that seemed to be all that they'd managed to do. They couldn't say if she ever would regain consciousness at all, much less give an estimate for it.

"And Agnes?"

"Howard has eyes and ears. Reddington has her, but she's been spending a lot of time with a couple of agents from Liz's team. Navabi and… what was his name? Amir?"

"Aram," Tom said with a fond smile. "Yeah, he loves Agnes. We made Liz's team her godparents. I'm…. I guess least if I can't be there, they can."

"Kind of the point of godparents, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Me either," she answered with a short laugh.

"You know, I've never heard about your family, Nez."

She pursed her lips together. "That's a box of chaos we can save for another day. I have a video conference with some of our operatives heading overseas this afternoon. I need to get them prepped. You good in here?"

"Yeah."

"You sure you don't need-"

"I'm good, Nez, thanks."

"You know you have PT in-"

"Yes," he snapped. "I'm good."

She nodded, standing slowly and watching him for just a moment. Good might be stretching it, but he was better, and better was an improvement. They had to take the wins where they could.

Howard knew all too well how few places in New York City were out of the way of surveillance of some kind. Between traffic cameras, security feeds, and the fact that the Artax Network always had at least one of Halcyon's satellites overhead there were precious few places to hide away. The recent security sweep of Halcyon's computer system that he'd had Dumont perform left him relatively comfortable with a handful of dark corners, but all in all, he still shared the space with many people that he didn't trust.

That was what led he and Scottie to the condo that they'd once shared. They had moved from the house when they couldn't find Christopher. They had never sold it, but the memories had been too strong and they had purchased a condo in the city to use as their primary home. Scottie had stayed when Howard had been presumed dead - though his PI had indicated that she rarely slept there - and Howard had moved back in when she'd gone to prison. It felt both fitting and strange all at once that it was now the location that they were conducting their investigation from.

He just hadn't expected to see her at this time of night.

"What was so important that it couldn't wait until morning?" he asked, still trying to shake sleep off as his wife strode in the front door.

"I told you that I had Matias searching down some leads."

"You'd mentioned, yes."

"He found something."

Howard tilted his head, closing the door to follow her, punching the stay option on his alarm system. "Well?" he prompted. "Don't keep me waiting."

"Why not? You've kept me waiting," she answered, her tone colder now than it had been just a moment before. As they met each other's gazes, Howard still lingering by the door and Scottie already standing in the middle of the living room, her thin lips tilted upward. "This is a partnership, Howard."

"And trust has to be earned, Scottie."

"Are we doing this again? We're never going to get anywhere if we're hammering at the same issues again and again."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that betrayal should be so easily put aside," he grumbled and started for the bar in the corner. He popped the top off of the decanter and poured two glasses of his scotch, handing one over.

"I didn't betray you. There has never been any evidence that I did."

"You've always been talented at hiding evidence, dear."

"And finding it." She held a jumpdrive up. "We have a trail to follow. One that the police can't stop us on, and I'm willing to share with you, but you have to give to get."

"You want to see Tom."

"You know that I do."

He frowned, leaning against the back fo the couch. He needed to make a trip anyway. He needed to share everything that Scottie had given him with Nez and Dumont and get them started after this Ian Garvey. He'd wasted enough time as it stood and if they had another piece of evidence to give to them, that could get them down the road that much faster. Taking Scottie was a risk, but there were ways to do it without her knowing exactly where they were. "I have conditions."

"Of course you do."

"You don't get to know where the base is. You go and come with me, never on your own."

"But I'll be able to see our son?"

"As long as you don't interfere with his recovery," he said tightly and he watched her expression melt into relief.

"Deal. Call Martin. We're wheels up as soon as the jet's fueled."

"Say again?"

"You heard me. Pack a bag. I'll give you the intel when we're airborne." He used to love that clever mind and the way amusement lit her eyes, but he hated being on the receiving end of it. "Trust has to be earned. Earn it."

He had been away for a week this time, but when he returned it was like nothing had changed at all. The machines still beeped, the respirator still pumped air in and out of her of her lungs, and she still slept. It was like this room alone was at a standstill as the rest of the world marched on. Agnes grew every day, her childish babbles becoming more intelligent if she did, in fact, choose to speak, and those dark blue eyes of hers - identical to her father's in hue, Reddington hated to admit - studied each person that she met like they were a potential threat. He hated it, but as it stood there was no clear way to change it. She was being raised in love and protection. If he wasn't in DC Dembe or his daughter took her to play dates, and when any of her godparents had the time, they took her in and made sure she knew that she had support on all sides. It was difficult to say what they could do differently with the circumstances they found themselves in, no matter how many different angles he tried to look at as the hours stretched on.

The silence left room for the guilt on all sides, and there were few things that he wished to share the evening with than that.

His plane had landed a couple of hours before. He'd stopped off at Agent Mojtabai's apartment where he and Agent Navabi were watching after Agnes. She was winding down for bed, so he had delivered the gift that he had brought back for her from Edinborough, kissed her on the head, and received a vague look and a mumbled thank you for the efforts before having Dembe drive him to the hospital where Liz slept on, leaving him with only the quiet for company.

Reddington sat alone, save the unconscious woman, and nursed glass after glass of scotch until he couldn't say exactly how many in he that he was. He should sleep he knew. Jetlag should have made that easy, but he found himself staring blankly at Elizabeth, watching the heart monitor and letting memories of happier times float across his memory. Laughter and bubbles and ballet flickered through his thoughts, music and old movies, and a promise of more than what he lived. Of being more.

He couldn't say when he had dozed off, dreams and memories mixing together with aged scotch, but at some point a small noise woke him. Or perhaps a presence. Reddington wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that as he blinked his eyes warily open he saw a woman's back, dressed in scrubs, and her red hair tied back in a loose knot at the base of her skull. A soft moan escaped him as he shifted and he felt every ache in his body remind him that these chairs were not for sleeping in.

The nurse froze,and he realized that she had been speaking to Elizabeth, but at the sound from him she stopped. After a long moment she turned and Reddington knew he must have been dreaming after all. He knew every nurse in the facility and none of them struck such a remarkable resemblance to a dead woman. "Katarina."

"Raymond," she answered, her voice soft but somehow a little cold. His mind had aged her up and part of him found it amusing that he hadn't simply aged himself down. Those had been their glory years, hadn't they? Before they knew it was all doomed and when they'd still hoped for a chance. When they'd still fought for it with a beautiful little girl between them with shining blue eyes and the world that hadn't tried to destroy her yet.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and not bothering to straighten any further. "Even in my dreams you're still beautiful," he murmured and that pulled the smallest of smiles from her.

Katarina's gaze flickered over to the bottle of scotch. "Go back to sleep, Raymond."

"Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?"

That was the question, wasn't it? He pressed his thin lips together and finally shifted in the stiff-backed chair. With the movement came a thought that chilled him down to the core. "You're not here to take her, are you?"

The redheaded woman shook her head. "No, I hope not. I've done everything I could to keep her safe. I wouldn't want to take her now."

"No," he breathed, settling back in. He watched her as she bent over, pressing a kiss to Elizabeth's forehead that looked more tender than he thought he remembered her being capable of. When she straightened he looked up at her. "Why are you here?"

"A moment of weakness," she answered, laughing as if it had been her own private joke. "Many moments of weakness lately." She covered the space between them and instinctively he knew better than to move. He found himself staring up at her, exhaustion and drink making the world fuzzy around him, but it felt less and less like a dream as she bent down and pressed her lips against his, her hand moving run her long fingers along his hairline and he thought he felt a prick on his neck. "Go back to sleep, Raymond," she murmured as she pulled back. "When you wake up, this won't be anymore than a dream."

His jaw went slack, but the words wouldn't come. He watched the room shift and blur as she walked out and he slipped back to sleep.

He could feel the flames, hot and dangerous, and as he blinked against the curling smoke he realized the he was lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling of his apartment. The fire was eating away at the curtains, the furniture, and even making its way up to the rafters overhead. He needed to move or he was going to die there.

Dark blue eyes squeezed shut and then back open, watering a little as he tried to roll over, feeling the gut wrenching pain spread up and down his right side. Tom dragged a breath in, smoke with it, and he thought he might be sick as he pulled himself up to his knees, his hand coming away from the source of the pain covered in blood. There was too much. He knew there was too much.

"Babe?"

He looked around, feeling everything spin as he did, but there was no one there. Just the flames and the fire that were spreading and burning every inch of the home he shared with his family. He knew that voice though. There was no mistaking it. "Liz," he choked her name out, struggling to his feet. "Liz!"

She didn't answer and he stumbled forward, desperately trying to keep his balance with his right hand pressed against his bleeding side. He coughed hard and thought he heard Agnes' cries coming from her room and took off in that direction as best as he could, the flames licking at his bare feet as he did. He rounded into the room, stumbling towards the sound but she wasn't in her crib. Instead all he found was an empty suitcase and more fire.

A click behind him drew his attention and Tom's gun was in his hand in an instant as he spun to find his exit blocked. "You can't even hold it steady, Tom. Do you really expect to shoot me?"

"Reddington?" he choked out. "Where're Liz and Agnes?"

"Gone. You won't ever see them again. I've made sure of that."

The shot went off and Tom found himself sitting straight up in bed, gasping and choking and finally gagging. He dove for the trashcan by the bed, barely making it before he lost what little of his dinner he'd kept down with the migraine that had forced him to put down his research and hide away in his room with the lights off.

Once he didn't have anything left to throw up he set the bin down as carefully as he could and collapsed against the edge of the bed, shaking and trembling and gasping. The deep wounds up and down his side had knitted back together, the muscles as healed as they were going to be, but he felt the pull on them and the terrible headache starting to creep back into place. He squeezed his eyes closed, curling just a little, and tried to picture Liz. His Liz. Beautiful, fierce, brave Liz. She would need him. She needed him to get through this and get home to her.

Tom wasn't sure when he drifted back off, but he jerked awake again at some point at the sound of a knock on his door. He groaned, squinting irritably at the door. "What?" he managed, his voice raspy and his throat raw.

The door opened slowly, light flooding in from the hall and he flopped back against the pillows and covered his face with his arm. "I swear, Nez, if this is payback for last week-"

"Giving Nez hell, are you?"

He swallowed hard and moved his arm so that he could see, reaching for the side table to reach for his glasses. That movement alone seemed to remind him just how horrible he felt and by the time he'd set his glasses onto his nose he wasn't sure he was ready to sit up.

Thankfully the owner of the voice moved in, her heels sounding against the hard floor as she did, and he looked up at her. "Scottie," he greeted tiredly. "I'd heard that you were coming."

She didn't answer right away. Instead her expression melted into worry, her brows drawn together and her lips tilting down. Scottie reached forward, touching his forehead with the back of her hand before moving down just below the rims of his glasses. "You're warm."

"Yeah, I'm, uh..." He cleared his throat. "They changed the dosage on my meds and that can throw me off. I'll be good once they get it balanced out."

He wasn't quite sure what he had expected from their first conversation when she got there, not after everything that had happened, but this wasn't it. He'd lied to her, investigated her, and when he'd been presented with evidence that could clear her name he had passed it off rather than looking into it himself. He knew his reasons, and while he still held onto them, that didn't make them any less hurtful to the woman that he'd chosen to distrust, but there she was leaned over him, worrying over a fever like he'd always heard mothers did.

Scottie nodded a little. "Howard says that you're making progress."

Tom snorted a rough chuckle. "That's what they're calling it, I guess. Listen, Scottie, I…. About what happened-"

She smiled at him. It was unexpected and sudden, and while it was difficult to tell in the deep shadows of the room, he thought there might have been tears in her eyes as she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Sure it does."

"Not as much as this," she promised, her hand touching his. "We'll have time to sort through it, but right now you're here and you're alive."

He nodded slowly, feeling her long fingers curl around his. He couldn't say if he trusted her or even if he trusted Howard, but Nez had been right in saying that the world in which they all lived and operated in was anything but black and white. It was complicated and layered, good and bad blending together to make way for necessity. It was the reason that spies didn't typically get close to people or worry about families, but difficult didn't mean impossible. He and Liz had figured that out. It just meant that it was worth fighting for.

"Thanks," he managed, feeling himself begin to relax again.

"Get some sleep, Tom. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

The promise hung in the air as he let his eyes slipped closed again, and Scottie didn't let go as sleep pulled him back under.

Notes: I feel like so much happened in this chapter between a sort-of Kaymond reunion, Tom and Scottie's reunion, Tom's nightmares that he's facing, and everything else. It was just a lot for one chapter, and honestly, I reshuffled several times before I finally settled on everything being in here. One of my major struggles for this story has been the flow of it, because we have about 15 months of recovery time for Tom (and Liz, really) from the attack to the point that he jumps back into the fray. Finding ways to do time jumps without making it feel forced or rushed has been an interesting way to stretch my writing skills and find new paths, so I hope it's coming across well. As always, I'd love your feedback on this, especially since so much happened in this one. 

This story has truly been consuming me. I'm on Ch11 for the writing and it's just shy of 43K overall. This one may actually beat out my current longest fic, Everything Back to You. That has something like.... 240K or something like that? I remember I broke my google docs app with that one. New goals. Hopefully they've fixed whatever was doing that a few years ago, but I want to find the new limits with this one :D

Next Time: Nez meets Solomon in the field for intel, Tom and Howard make an attempt at an honest conversation, and the Hargraves find something to truly unite them when they receive shocking news.

Chapter Text

There had been a time when he had trusted her with everything: his life, his secrets, and even his company. She had been the one that had chosen to break away with him, to risk everything with him. The one that had given up a budding career in espionage because a little boy with big, blue eyes had become the center of her universe and the same one that had mourned with him when that little boy had vanished from their lives.

Howard hadn't known what to expect when he took Scottie to see Tom. He knew he didn't trust her now, but if he were honest he wasn't even sure he knew her anymore. She was determined to convince him that she hadn't been the one to take down his plane, that she was on his side with this. She had offered to combine their resources on the investigation into Ian Garvey and had made good on that by asking to send Nez in to meet with Solomon for an update. It could all be a game, a ploy. She had always been good, but the tentative truce that they shared at the moment had left them in better standing with the board and that had to count for something.

The one thing he was relatively certain he could rely on was that she would fight for their boy.

"I don't envy Tom's position between the two of you."

Howard snorted a laugh, not moving from his place in the doorway. Nez moved around him, leaning casually against the wall and offered the man in question a quick wave. Tom nodded, acknowledged her presence from where he was in the middle of physical therapy, Scottie chatting with the therapist next to him.

"She's a force to be reckoned with," he acknowledged, letting his gaze slide over to his most trusted operative. "It goes without saying that I need you to be careful with Solomon."

"Any reason I wouldn't be?"

"History."

"Like yours and Scottie's?"

"Ha," he grumbled and saw her smirk. "We're working through a web of lies, half-truths, and secrets, Nez. I need you focused."

"I'm focused. Tom's become…. family."

"I know he's earned your loyalty, but Solomon's is only to Scottie. Be careful."

She nodded and Howard loosed a breath. Nez pushed herself off the wall. "I've got a flight to catch. Just… don't start a war while I'm gone, boss?"

"Do my best," he promised. He was left leaning alone for several long moments, watching his son struggle through the therapy. He was doing better. Physically, mentally…. Howard knew that Nez and Dumont had been sharing intel with him, and as much as he wanted to keep him away from it, he wouldn't sit back and do nothing. That wasn't in his nature and never had been. The best hope they had was to curate the information he received, allowing him to feel useful in the investigation without pushing himself. It was a delicate balance, but one that he was relatively sure that Nez understood the importance of. Like she'd said, Tom had become family. He knew those words weren't uttered lightly with her.

Movement from across the room caught his attention and he saw Scottie making her way over. "He's made so much progress just in the last handful of weeks."

Howard quirked an eyebrow. "Taking credit for that?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were teasing me," she murmured in response, a hint of mischief in her dark eyes. Her expression sobered after half a beat and her voice softened. "I just mean that between his success here and the information Nez and Dumont have been feeding him -" Howard gave a short sound of acknowledgement at that one - "it's only a matter of time until he pushes harder."

"I've been think about that too."

"I think if we're going to continue with our present course of action that we need to be on the same page."

"Isn't that what's happening right now?" he asked warily.

"Howard, you and I have been working at this for months now. This isn't a business deal, this isn't an operation. This is our life."

"Get to your point, Scottie."

"Let's have dinner tonight. Just you and me. We'll-"

"Let me stop you there. My concern is making sure Tom gets out of this alive and as intact as he can be. Anything else is secondary and, Scottie, I'm not interested in giving you a chance to make a power play."

He didn't give her a chance to respond or to provide all of the excuses he knew she would have stored away. Little by little she had been trying to work in deeper and he would be damned if he let her get her claws into him again. There was too much at stake.

"What is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?" a voice purred behind her and Nez Rowan smirked just a little.

"Some asshole said it was a good place to meet," she answered and turned on the bar stool to find that same asshole grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Hiya, Mattie."

"Nez, it's been a while."

She let her gaze drift down the length of his tailored suit. "You seem to be holding up just fine. Did you really think that would blend in in this dump?"

"My, working with Howard has made too judgy," he chuckled. "You haven't even tried their wings yet."

"Wings?"

"Mm." He motioned at the woman coming around the other end of the bar. "Lily, dear, we'll be at my table."

"Sure thing, Matt. Can I get you anything?" the waitress offered.

"The wings, apparently, and whatever's local on tap. It goes on his tab."

"Oh does it?" Solomon asked with a grin and flung his arm around Nez's shoulders, directing her towards the table in the corner. She was about to slide in across from where he appeared to have set up camp, but instead he pulled her into the booth with him. "Trust me. You'll like the view a lot better in about five minutes," he murmured directly into her ear. It would look like a flirt to anyone watching and she flashed a smile for show.

"What do you have for us?"

"Why, you have somewhere to be?"

"My flight in a couple of hours."

"He is keeping you on a tight leash." He leaned, digging his phone out of his pocket and he punched in the code before showing her photos of a dock. He flipped through them and Nez saw the same woman appearing every few shots.

"Who is she?"

"Li Zhou," he said very lowly. "She's responsible for coordinating and overseeing the Nash Syndicate's incoming product from all over the world."

"And you think you can use her to get to him?" Nez asked.

"One of my paths in. You know me, I like to keep my options open."

"The only one left standing," she mused and watched as the bell on the door drew his attention.

"You could set your clock by him," Solomon mused and scooted over ever so slightly.

As Nez followed she realized she could see through one of the decorative holes in the back of the booth in front of them. The seating arrangement made more sense now. "Is that-?"

"Yes it is. Not that he's done a great deal of any interest yet. They do say patience is a virtue."

Nez settled back and out of the line of sight through the small hole. She leaned in so that she could speak quietly. "You know, Tom thought he could be a cop. He said that he knew he'd run something through a federal database."

"What, Keen didn't see the badge as the man was gutting him?"

Nez snorted, but she didn't have a chance to respond as the waitress brought the wings and beers, replacing Solomon's mostly empty glass. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do," Solomon promised with a wink that had her rolling her eyes and laughing at him.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Nez asked, Not able to hide the amusement from her voice.

"I've been told I'm charming." He stole one of the wings.

"Really? They live long enough to say it?"

"Well, they would if they did," he chuckled and he motioned at the basket of wings. "C'mon, you're not leaving until you try them."

She shook her head and grabbed for one of the sauce covered wings. "I've missed you, Mattie."

"I know." He laughed when she jammed her elbow into his ribs, and when he spoke his voice was too soft for anyone but her to hear. "I've missed you too."

He tapped his knuckles against the door of the tiny little room that Howard had claimed as his office, drawing his father's attention to him as he did. Clear blue eyes darted up, softening just a little as they recognized the visitor. "Tom, everything alright?"

"Yeah, just wanted to see if you had a sec," the younger man managed and Howard nodded immediately.

"Of course. Come in, sit down. Did you make it all the way over here without the cane?"

Tom felt his lips tilt upward on one side only and he leaned his head a little as he spoke. "Don't tell the doctors," he murmured and it took a moment, but he thought he saw the barest of smirks on Howard's face. He sank gratefully into his seat, watching him, and there was something about the way that he was studying him. There was curiosity there, but there was also hesitation, almost like he was stopping himself from going to far with it. "You know," Tom ventured after a long moment, "Liz likes to tease me about how focused I can get. She says that if I'm zeroing in on something that an explosion could happen and it'd never rattle me."

Howard chuckled softly at that. "I could see that being the case."

"Yeah…. I never really put a lot of thought into where I got that from before. It just was part of me. It's kept me alive over the years, and after these months, I think I have you to thank for it."

His father didn't respond that that, but there was a shift in his gaze and sat back in his chair, waiting for the inevitable point.

"I'm just saying," Tom continued, "that as good as it can be and as many times as it has saved my life in really tight spots…. Liz taught me there's more than just that."

One grey eyebrow quirked up. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm working too hard, Tom?" he asked, amusement lining his voice.

The lopsided smile returned and he turned, rolling his eyes just a little. "I'm trying to figure out where I belong in all of this. You, Scottie… I don't know. I'm just wondering if you're so focused on whatever enemies you're after that you're seeing them when they're not there."

"So not working too hard, just paranoid."

"Comes with the job."

"It does," Howard said slowly, "and sometimes it sharpens the sense to danger."

"You still haven't told me what it is about her past that makes her so dangerous."

He watched the shift in his gaze and he hadn't thought Howard could close off any more. It was strange, but he'd retreated even further since Scottie had come to the base. If he loosened up around her while they were out, Tom had no way to know, but there he was stern and locked down. He was nothing like Scottie had once described him once.

Brilliant, playful, charming, a terrible flirt.

In the time that Tom had seen his parents, these people that he'd thought had thrown him away most of his life, he'd only seen them try to sabotage each other, torture each other, and outwit each other. There was nothing of what Scottie had described or that wistful look that she'd had while describing it, but Tom did think that he recognized the look that Howard held onto. He'd seen it in Liz's eyes years ago when she was convinced that it had all been a lie.

"It's complicated."

"I have an IQ of 173. I think I can manage."

Howard chuckled at that. "This never had anything to do with your intelligence, Tom."

"Just about the secrets you guys keep." Tom sighed, slouching down in his chair. This was the man that hadn't hesitated to tell him that he thought the Scottie running Halcyon wasn't the same Scottie that he'd married. He had made sure that he went on an op to prove to him that the tech was real and spun a story about a double without blinking an eye. If he believed it or or just needed to use Tom then, the younger man still wasn't entirely sure, but there was certainly something different about the way he went at his secrets about Scottie now. He kept them closer, like a promise he didn't dare break. In a way it reminded him of Reddington and his damn suitcase full of bones, but like Reddington, there was always a better than even chance the past would creep back in and cause trouble for the present. Another quiet breath left him. "It's not like Scottie's exactly forthcoming about it either, so at least you can agree on that."

"Another thing you come by naturally then?" The amusement faded just a little as Howard leaned forward, his gaze focused on his son. "Alright, Tom. You've spent some time with her here. She knows who you are now. Do you trust your mother?"

He didn't answer right away, letting the question weigh on him. It wasn't an easy one for him or for Howard, he knew, and it deserved an honest answer. Especially if he was hoping for one in return. "Trust is something that has to build," he said carefully.

"Something else Liz taught you?"

A soft smile pulled his lips. "Yeah, she did. Hard learned, but we got there."

"I'll tell you a secret, son. You and Liz are the outliers in our business."

"Maybe, but even if Scottie is angling at something, dinner won't kill you. Maybe it'll give you a better idea where you guys stand."

He watched Howard watching him for a long moment and finally the older Hargrave raised his hands, palms outward like he was surrendering. "Alright."

"Yeah?"

"I may not trust her, but I do trust you. If you think this will help, we'll give it a go."

Tom blinked, a little surprised he gave that easily.

Howard stood, rounding the desk. "I've never been good at this, Tom. Trust or…. well any of this. Scottie and I are both good at playing the parts, but it gets… muddled when thing get real. I know I don't say it well, may not even show it well, but you…. You've grown into a better man than either of us could have ever hoped for. I want you to know that."

"If she turns out to be using us both I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" Tom asked with a short laugh.

It took a moment for Howard to catch up to the tease flashed an actual full smile. "No."

Tom grinned, the expression feeling strange after so long, but not wrong. He still felt the weight of missing Liz and Agnes in every breath he drew, but the last weeks had helped. He finally felt like he was making progress, both physically and with figuring out where he stood with Scottie and Howard. He couldn't say he trusted them entirely, there was too much there, but he was starting to, and that was further than he would have ever thought the could get at the beginning of this.

Scottie was fairly certain that Tom was responsible for changing Howard's mind. How he had done it so quickly - or even why - was still a mystery, but not one that she felt the need to unravel before sitting down with Howard that night.

She hadn't been sure what to expect from the dinner. Howard had been vague, saying that if she really felt like they should meet then it should be that night. They flew out for a board meeting bright and early the next morning. So when she rounded the corner into the room connected to the kitchen and found a bottle of wine and a nice dinner set out she was more than a little surprised. And suspicious, but that came with the territory. "Did you cook?"

"I didn't poison anything," Howard promised lightly as he worked at the cork.

"Did you think I would?" Scottie asked, her heels clicking lightly as she moved to the table. Her dark gaze swept over it. He hadn't cooked like this in years, and if he had it certainly hadn't been for her.

"Maybe not intentionally."

"That was one time," Scottie argued and she saw the teasing look in his eyes. No, this was not at all what she had expected.

"Have a seat. I promised Tom I'd be civil and I intend to keep my word to him on that."

"This is above and beyond civil, Howard," she murmured as she pulled the chair out and sat down.

He tipped the wine bottle so that it poured into the glasses, but didn't say anything until he took a seat. "Nez met with Solomon. He has eyes on Garvey."

"One of his leads is panning out then," Scottie murmured, cutting into the chicken on her plate.

"I can't express how important it is to approach this with caution."

"Really? I was thinking about the direct approach to take down the man with a Marshal's badge to protect him."

Howard chuckled at that. "He really is a lot like us," he mused. "Tom, I mean. We were discussing focus earlier and he said that Liz used to give him hell over it."

Scottie smiled behind her wine glass. "I remember when he was little how it was a game of which one of you was more stubborn than the other. He would sit outside of your office until you came out or he would fall asleep. He refused to go to bed until you told him goodnight."

She watched Howard's expression soften at the memory. "Stubbornness from me, snarky nature from you…. imagine if we'd raised him," he took a bite from his plate.

The images played over in her mind and Scottie pushed at them. "Has he told you how he grew up?"

"In the system for a while. McCready took him after that."

Scottie bristled. Tom hadn't spoken to her at length about his upbringing, but between what she already knew about the St Regis organization and the few things Tom had said, she knew that the strange childhood he might have had growing up with his parents would have been a ray of sunshine next to what he went through with the man he still referred to as Bud.

The conversation halted as her phone buzzed and she reached for it.

"You may be the only one with a signal in the whole base," Howard mused, his tone just shy of accusing.

Scottie gave him a taunting smirk before glancing down at the text.

"Scottie?"

It took a moment for her to realize she was staring blankly at the phone. "Elizabeth Keen is awake," she breathed out, feeling her chest tighten and she looked up to see Howard's expression mirroring what she could only imagine her own must look like.

A long moment passed before Howard repositioned himself in his seat. "Tom's not ready."

"No." She looked at the phone again as if somehow the message had changed. "If he finds out there won't be any stopping him."

Howard nodded, taking a long drink from his glass. "Delete the text. Wipe it yourself. This doesn't leave us."

She nodded in agreement, one quick glance at the words before they were cast out into nothingness. They had to be careful moving forward. If he found out too soon, this would all go wrong faster than they could stop it.

Notes:

Oh the Hargraves. Making bad life choices, but at least they're making them together?

I wanted so badly to make a preview set for Jennifer showing up, because I was very excited to see her when that scene laid out in this chapter. I didn't expect her nearly this early, but if I'm honest, that's been the story of Solomon's arc for me. 'Oh, well okay, if that's how you want to take it I guess we'll go there' lol. I was going through my notes yesterday evening on the writing to make sure I hadn't missed anything and realized that a plot point I thought was still a ways out needed to happen either within the chapter I'm currently writing or the next one at the very latest to make everything work our. I love how it's all coming together.

I hope you guys are having a great Wednesday and that the show doesn't shatter us too badly tonight. Please feel free to leave your thoughts! Your feedback seriously makes my day.

Next time:

Tom gets a gift that will allow him to push his limits a bit more and Liz meets Scottie Hargrave.

Chapter Text

She had dreamt about him while she had slept. She could still see his smiling face and the way the mischief made it to those dark blue eyes. He had pulled her close and kissed the side of her head, those long fingers brushing back her hair to whisper in her ear that they were alright. They would always be alright. They would keep each other safe.

It was hope she had held onto, even if she hadn't realized it, and she couldn't believe that he was gone. After every close call, after every near-death experience, they had always come out on the other side of it. Zamani, the boat, being framed by the Cabal, him being shot by Gina, the entire Kirk incident…. He was gone. He'd been gone for ten months. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye. She hadn't been able to go to his funeral.

"Elizabeth?"

She blinked, pulled out of her thoughts by Reddington's voice and she looked over to him from her bed. He was watching her, brows drawn together and half out of his chair. "I'm fine," she managed, her voice still scratchy and soft after months of disuse.

"You look tired. I should let you rest."

"I've been resting for ten months," Liz snapped, wishing she had it in her to regret her tone when the hurt flashed across his face. This wasn't Reddington's fault. He had gotten them out of there, had rushed them to the hospital. He had done everything that he could.

She pulled in a breath and tried to reel her frustration back in. "Walk me through it again."

"Elizabeth, we've been over-"

"I know, but I need to hear it again."

Reddington sighed, glancing at the door before looking back to her. "Knowing every detail of the car trip, of the hospital, of what happened will not bring him back."

"He died to protect me, Reddington. He…" She squeezed her eyes shut, images playing over in her mind. The knife, the blood, and the way he had bounded up to protect her the moment the man came at her with the plastic. They had told her that he bled out, and she couldn't help but think that he might have made it if he hadn't tried to save her.

"It's a beautiful afternoon. What do you say I go pick Agnes up and bring her over? She loves the squirrels outside the window."

"Yeah. Sure," she managed, not quite able to bring herself to look.

Reddington stood and he paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath. "I know it doesn't feel like it now, but it does get better. Time will help."

She gave a small grunt of acknowledgement to get him out the door. As hard as it was, there was only one thing that might help, and it couldn't be done from the bed. She needed to get up, to get on her feet, and she needed to find her husband's murderer and make him pay.

"Yoga might be good for you."

Tom startled out of his wandering thoughts, glancing over to where Nez was bent and stretched out on a mat. "I do plenty of stretching in PT, don't worry."

She quirked an eyebrow, shifting. "I was thinking more about you finding a calm, but it helps you limber up too."

"You know what else does? Sparring."

"Pretty sure Gramble specified light exercise," Nez said pointedly.

Tom flashed her a charming grin. "She's just underestimating me." It had been ten months and his doctor was still convinced that he wasn't ready for anything that would get him back into shape. That would get him ready to help Liz when she woke up.

He didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes, pushing herself up so she could pop to her feet. "Stubborn ass," his partner groused. He thought she might drop the idea as she moved to take a long drink from her water bottle, but then she motioned for him to get up and follow. "C'mon."

He pulled himself up and to his feet, swaying only a little at stiff muscles, and followed her out of the small gym. She didn't slow her pace for him and he found himself smirking as she picked up speed around one corner. He matched it where he hadn't just a week before, and he could tell she was keeping tabs on him from the corner of her eye.

"This the light exercise you had in mind?" he asked as Nez punched a code into the keypad outside of Dumont's lab.

"You hit your limit, Keen?"

"Not even close."

"Good." The door opened and they moved through it into the lab.

Dumont was deep into a project and it took a moment for him to look up, but when he did his expression lit. "Don't you two look like people on a mission? You get more news of the fed?"

"Not yet," Nez answered. "Did you finish that thing you've been working on?"

Tom shot her a questioning look, but her focus was on Dumont, so he turned back to him just as the inventor's gaze shifted to meet his. "Why do I get the feeling that this hasn't been cleared, huh?"

"Because you're a clever guy," Nez teased.

He snorted a laugh. "Flattery will getcha everywhere, sweetheart."

It was Tom's turn to chuckle. "Pretty sure you're the only guy that can get away with calling her that and keep your limbs intact."

"Dumont's the exception," Nez said with a grin. "Lets see it."

Dumont grumbled his agreement as he started into a locked drawer. Tom leaned in, his curiosity peeked, and saw him pull what looked like a wrist watch. He motioned for Tom to extend his left arm. "It's, uh, stylish, Dumont, but in not sure-"

"It's like a Fitbit or one of those other watches that read your heart rate and everything, just my spin on it. Upgraded," Dumont explained as he fit it into place. "This'll do that, but it's also programmed to monitor any vitals that might spike into the red with exertion like you'd have in the field-"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Nez cut in. "That part is for later."

"-as well as medication levels. The last was designed with Whitehall to help balance it out instead of the hit and miss approach we've been going at."

"Meaning fewer side effects?"

"That's the goal."

Tom flashed a wide grin, holding the new device up to examine it closer. "You're a regular Q, Dumont."

"Hey, look at that. He does know a pop culture reference," the tech expert laughed. "Go figure it'd be Bond. Nez, you know this guy's never even seen Star Wars? Who hasn't seen Star Wars?"

"I haven't seen Star Wars," Nez deadpanned and Dumont looked personally offended.

"What is with you people?"

"I grew up in an organization that trained me to be a covert operative. Movie nights weren't exactly the norm at St Regis," Tom said with a shrug. "And Nez-?" He looked over and she smirked.

"Back to the point, I know that we're not going to be able to stop you if you want to start in on some low-grade training, so let's at least be smart about it, huh? The readouts will feed into Dumont's tablet and we'll work together to make sure you don't do more harm than good."

"You guys have really thought this through."

Nez shrugged. "It was only a matter of time until you pushed on it."

Tom's smile faded just a little. "And you're good going against Scottie and Howard on this?"

"Good may be stretching it," she muttered, "but those two have got their hands full with their own drama. The three of us are a team, right?"

Her gaze caught his and cut through, leaving him feeling the weight of the question. "Right," he managed.

Dumont grinned, grabbing for the tablet. "Then let's test this bad boy out."

"I was just thinking about that beach," Katarina said without looking back. She was seated on the back of the bench, her feet where she should be sitting, and dressed in scrubs. Her hair was tied up under the baseball cap she wore, and as Scottie circled around she saw her squinting into the sunlight. "Do you remember the one? With the sandcastles."

"They were so little," Scottie murmured with a fond smile and took a seat next to a woman she'd once called a friend. She wasn't sure what she was now. "Christopher was so shy then, but he adored Masha."

Katarina hummed softly. "I didn't think they'd let us pull them apart when I came to get her."

Scottie looked up. "Maybe they didn't."

"Then you've seen him."

"I have."

"How is he?"

"He's…. better," the dark haired woman said after a moment of thought. "And Masha?"

"Better," Katarina answered, her voice a little wistful. "Are you here to give her the good news?"

The question caught Scottie off guard and she stared for just a moment, processing it. "I can't. Not yet. If Tom were to know that she's awake he'd be here in a heartbeat. He's not ready for that."

"You just said he was better."

"He is, but he's stubborn. Like his father."

Katarina flashed a knowing grin. "And his mother."

"He comes by it naturally," Scottie admitted softly.

"And you'll keep lying to him until you decide that he's ready to see his wife?" The redhead asked. "Was that Howard's idea?"

"We made that call together."

"At least there's that." Her blue gaze swept out to the park beyond the bike trail and the children playing soccer. "Tell me about Agnes."

Scottie looked over, startled by the request. She hadn't even been sure that Katarina knew about Agnes, and if she did if she cared.

"I saw a photo by Masha's bed while she was sleeping. I assume Chris the father."

"He is."

"I saw Raymond bringing her by to see her a week or two ago."

Scottie hummed softly, letting her gaze drift over to the private facility down the pathway, her thoughts on a little girl she hadn't seen in person since she was a newborn. She had held that little bundle, never realizing she was holding her granddaughter close. Those tiny little fingers had wrapped around her own, trusting and curious, and all she had been able to think of was her own child in that moment. "She must be…. nearly three now."

"Is she why you're here?"

"In part," Scottie answered honestly. She was also there to see Elizabeth personally. She needed an update, but didn't dare send anyone else. If word got back to Tom that she and Howard were keeping this from him it would decimate the shaky trust they had built with their son. Much like his recovery, it was a long, difficult road, and one that had to be approached with great care.

"I need you to do something for me."

Scottie turned back, finding those blue eyes fixed on her. She quirked one dark eyebrow. "I thought I'd been doing a few things for you these past months."

"I need you to keep an eye on Masha for me. You can do that easier than I can, being the child's grandparent."

"You still planning on running this from the shadows?"

She pressed her lips together. "Some secrets would blow this whole thing wide open…. The fact that you and Howard have found Christopher or that I'm alive."

"Is Garvey somehow linked to them?" Scottie asked carefully.

Katarina didn't answer, but smiled as she stood. "Raymond is out today," she offered, her meaning obvious. She didn't wait for Scottie to answer as she started down the path, leaving the dark haired woman alone to make her decision.

It had been a long, hard day and Liz could feel it in every muscle's protest as they wheeled her back to her room. It was distracting, but not quite distracting enough to keep her from noticing a face only familiar through photos and the news. Susan Scott Hargrave stood at the nurse's station, speaking to the head nurse, and Liz reached painfully up to stop the nurse wheeling her down the hall.

Scottie turned and for just a moment Liz saw her husband in the woman's eyes. It was jarring and she had to steel herself against the sinking feel in her chest even as her mother-in-law tried for a smile, the expression more than a little forced. "Elizabeth. Hi, I know we haven't met, but I'm-"

"Tom's mother," Liz forced out. "I know."

The sound of her son's name dashed even the forced smile and a sadness filled her dark eyes. It took a moment, but she cleared her throat to speak again. "Yes. I wanted to stop by, to meet you, and to…. well to speak, if you have the time."

Liz tilted her head just a little, studying the woman and doing her best to pull up every memory she had of Tom speaking about her. He had worked with her, trusted her for a while before everything had gone wrong. He had also admitted that there might have been more to the story than he knew. He had sent some sort of evidence along to a contact he had with the FBI in New York, saying that situation with his parents had taken too much time away from his time with her and with Agnes. He'd been torn about it, Liz had been able to tell, but it had been his call to make and she had supported him in it. It would seem the evidence had been enough to have her released. It hurt worse than she could have expected that Tom wasn't here to see that.

"Yeah," she said after a long moment. "I'm on my way back to my room. Why don't you come with me?"

The smile Scottie gave her then seemed a little more real, but Liz was too tired to return it. She's been through her physical therapy session and was about to embark on an emotionally draining conversation. It must have been a Tuesday.

The older woman followed in silence as the nurse wheeled Liz back into her room and offered to help her back into bed. She waved him off, not interest in being at any more of a disadvantage than she already was with Susan Hargrave.

Once the nurse was gone, Scottie took a seat. "Elizabeth-"

"Liz is fine."

"Liz," she corrected, "I can't begin to express sympathies that could match what you've been through. Tom and I…. In different circumstances I believe we could have been very close. He-"

"You had him beaten for information by Matias Solomon, the same man that you sent after us at our wedding that nearly killed me and our daughter," Liz deadpanned, holding the older woman's gaze and watching her quickly cover the discomfort.

Scottie shifted in her chair, but matched Liz's gaze. "I don't think you're naïve enough to think that the world that we function in is simple, Liz, or even straightforward."

"And what world is that?"

"Halcyon Aegis is an intelligence company. We work within the world of espionage, and that can lend to more extreme circumstances. I'm sure you've found yourself in a few places you might have never expected over the years," she said pointedly. "Tom was good at this, and he understood how it worked. I imagine that's why Kat went to him with the information that exonerated me."

"What are you here for, Scottie?" Liz snapped, feeling the conversation wearing on her nerves.

She watched the other woman pull back to rebalance. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I…. all of that is true, but it doesn't weigh on me any less. The last moment I saw my son before he died was as I was being taken to prison. It's something I can never change, and there are only so many ways to make amends now."

Liz loosed a long breath and nodded very slightly. Regrets never easy. Even worse when there was no second chance, no way to earn forgiveness.

"But you and Agnes are still here," Scottie said softly.

"You want to be in your granddaughter's life," Liz ventured.

"I would love that," Scottie answered, her expression softening considerably, "but I don't expect it. I've been reinstated at Halcyon working with Howard of all things. With that reinstatement comes the ability to make sure that my son's family is taken care of."

"We're fine," Liz answered, trying to take some of the bite out of her voice. "You may have done a lot of damage with what happened when Tom worked for you, but you paid him well. We bought the apartment we were living in and between what was left over and what I made with the Bureau…." She shook her head. "I…. appreciate it, but we'll be fine."

"Will you at least let me set something up for my granddaughter?"

The question sounded so small, like a woman desperate for some connection, and in the moment Liz thought she saw through the mask to a woman that hadn't known the man that her son had become, hadn't done right by him, but was trying to find a way to make it right somehow.

Liz cleared her throat. "Listen…. I don't know you. Honestly, I don't think Tom even really knew you, but I get trying to hold onto something. Agnes will be here tomorrow. Why don't you drop by and maybe you and I can…. talk."

After a long moment Scottie nodded. "I would like that. Thank you."

Liz tried for a smile that she knew failed and watched her mother-in-law stand and leave. She wasn't sure if it was the right call to make yet, but she supposed she would find out.

Notes: The Star Wars reference fell almost perfectly for May the Fourth. It was just a fun nod to Tom's lack of pop culture knowledge that I'd played around with for it and it happened to land on the update following Star Wars Day. Couldn't have planned that better if I tried lol

I really appreciate the feedback I've been getting on this story. I post it on FFN, AO3, and on Tumblr and make a note on Twitter when it goes up. I was a little worried when I started in that the fans that would read this would have tapered off, but you guys have been fantastic. I hope you know how much even a few words mean to me. You're all amazing :)

Next Time - Liz asks Scottie for a favour, Solomon sets up his plan for getting closer in to Garvey, and Tom receives a surprise visitor.

Chapter Text

"You're spending quite a bit of time in DC lately."

Scottie looked up from the papers she was going over. "Is there a question there?" she asked, passing one paper over to him. "This one needs your signature as well."

"Who are you going to see?"

"Is that really any of your business?"

Howard ran his pen along the paper and all but tossed it back at her. "Is it?"

A slow, sly smile stretched Scottie's lips. "Is that a hint of jealousy in your voice, Howard?"

He snorted. "I would think you'd recognize mistrust by this point."

She hummed softly in response, flipping through her file. "Did you sign off on the operation in Dresden?"

"Who have you been going to see, Scottie?" her husband pressed and she knew that look in his eyes. They weren't going to get anything done until he was satisfied, and if she was reading him right, that wouldn't be easy. Their truce was a tentative one, built on necessity and a mutual wish to keep their son safe.

"Agnes," she says at last.

He blinked at her. "What?"

Scottie shot him a withering look. "Agnes. Our granddaughter?"

"I know who she is," Howard grumbled. "Why?"

"I would think that would be relatively obvious."

"Putting yourself in front of Liz Keen and risking everything we're setting up? Seems selfish and shortsighted."

"Dresden, Howard," she pressed.

"Yes. It's waiting for your signature and the team will be wheels up."

"Thank you. And no, it's not short sighted, but as always I appreciate the extension of trust you never bother to extend these days."

"Then you'd like to share your plan?"

Scottie rolled her eyes and dug for the Dresden file. "I know this might not match up to the chess game you view life as, but Liz is our daughter-in-law. I would like a chance to get to know her. To get to know Agnes."

"And this has nothing to do with you hedging your bets once Tom finds out that we're keeping his wife from him?"

That caught her attention. If that was Howard's first suspicion then odds were that he was doing the same. "We agreed this had to be done to protect him."

"We did."

"He'll understand."

Howard snorted. "Is that the lie you're telling yourself? He's a grown man, Scottie, and we've taken the decision out of his hand. Do I think it's the right call to keep him alive? Yes, you know I do, but that doesn't mean he won't be angry." He caught her gaze. "There will be a fallout. We both know that."

She watched as he turned back to his papers and a question clawed at her. "Do you think he'll forgive us?"

"I hope so." Howard loosed a breath. "I've had a tail on him since…..2015, I'd say. I wasn't certain it was him, but my PI received a tip about a crime scene in '14 and finally tracked him down when he resurfaced in DC to help Liz. He sent me photos and I couldn't believe it was him."

Scottie set her files down, her entire focus on him as he explained how Pendergast had worked to get closer, nearly caught too many times to count. Finally - and Howard said that with a mirthless laugh - an opportunity opened up when Tom was shot and admitted into the hospital. He was able to confirm that he was Christopher beyond a shadow of a doubt. The DNA matched.

"Why are you telling me this?" Scottie asked quietly, catching his gaze.

"Because things had already begun to shift in Halcyon and I knew that I likely could only be adding to the dangers in his already very dangerous life. I kept my distance until I couldn't."

"Until you needed him to get to me."

"You know, he said something similar to me."

"You did use him, Howard."

"And I saved his life. If you believe it or not, Scottie, everything I've done has been for him."

"I believe that you believe that."

"Be careful, Scottie," he warned and turned back to his paperwork.

Matias Solomon considered himself a creative man. When the situation wasn't laid out in a way that he could take advantage of it he would shift the players, manipulate the board, until he could find the momentum moving in the direction that he needed it. He'd done it for the Cabal over the years, with Reddington and Elizabeth Keen, for Scottie when he had made sure that the Keen wedding happened on the best day for him to wavy a shiny fake bomb in front of the Task Force to distract them and move into place to take Elizabeth and her daughter. He had always been good at it. This particular play, though, was a repeat of one he'd pulled years ago under the Cabal's paycheck. The good news is that he could count the number of people that even knew that op had happened on one hand, so a repeat wouldn't put it at risk.

It was a carefully laid out plan, and one that had taken time to set the pieces into place for. The first step was to throw a wrench into an important shipment incoming at the docks and then be the only one that could fix it for them. That was easy enough as long as everything fell into place, and it went smoothly through the disruption. The real problem was that he hadn't been certain that an old contact would come through for him, but he'd received the message on his burner phone right on schedule.

Matias Solomon squinted against the midday sun reflecting off the water as he walked along the docks, his hands shoved into his coat pockets to keep the chill away and his polished shoes clicking against the wood. He set his gaze on a nervous looking man at the end of the pier who was working at a tablet like his life depended on it. He looked up, spotting Solomon as he approached, and he loosed a shaky breath. "You must be Mr Harrison," he greeted, a slight accent evident in his voice. "Vernon said that you were the man to call."

"I'm sure he did," Solomon said easily, "but I'm not here to waste my time. I need to speak with the person in charge of your shipments to handle the situation appropriately."

"You'll work with me." The words were sharp and two sets of dark eyes met, a silent battle for power between them. If that's how he wanted to play it.

"Fine," Solomon aid with a shrug, "best of luck untangling the mess you've made."

He turned, mentally counting, and he couldn't help the small smirk when he heard the voice behind him call out. "Wait." He stopped, listening. "She's out of country. This needs to be resolved by the time that she comes back in or she will kill me."

"Not my problem," Solomon said smoothly.

"I'll double the original offer."

The taller man turned, the movement explosive, and suddenly he was in the the drug peddler's face. "I was assured that I would be working directly with your boss. If I fix this, that arrangement will need to be honoured."

"If you fix this, it will."

There it was. His opening, and he took it. He was in.

She had worked so hard to get out of the hospital and go home that she hadn't considered that it wouldn't feel like home without him. His things were still there, at least what he hadn't had on him when they had been taken to the hospital. His clothes were in the drawers in their room, a pair of glasses on the bathroom counter. She found the book he had been reading set by his side of the bed and his blood had soaked so deeply into the carpet in the living room that it would never come out. Everywhere she turned she found Tom's ghost in the home they had shared.

The first thing she had done was to pack up anything that would set her over the edge without warning, starting with Tom's record player that one of their attackers had set to play as he had tried to kill him. She found herself seated on the floor and going through each record, memories attached to them. She could see that smile, those long fingers picking through them as he talked about each and every artist like he'd known them personally. He loved it. It was so very, very him, and in the end they had turned it into something that had caused her pain. They had used something that he loved against them in the most disgusting of ways.

It wasn't the only thing that had caused her to pause, but it was the first. It took her hours to work through that, but once she had all the records stored away she stood, leaning heavily on her cane, and moved to the next item. Bit by bit, item by item, she packed nearly everything away. It all reminded her of him.

She had had help. The Task Force came over and so did Reddington and Dembe. They rolled the carpet and they fit things out of sight, even if not out of mind. It didn't help as much as she had hoped it would, and with each passing day and night that became more evident. She missed his smile, his laugh, and the way that he could lighten her mood no matter how terrible the day might have been. She woke at night reaching for him and found herself thinking she heard him during the day. Liz was miserable in body, mind, and soul, and Agnes was soaking it in.

The little girl's moods were proving impossible to keep up with. One moment she would want nothing more than to cling to her mother and then the next she would want nothing to do with her. She liked to draw. It was one of the few things that would calm her down out of a rage, and her Uncle Aram had supplied her with a whole box of crayons of every different colour imaginable. Liz found herself sitting on the couch and watching her scribble and scribble, the soft sound pulling her in and for just a few minutes her mind might stop spinning.

It never lasted, though, and Liz found herself at a loss at how to fix it. She couldn't pull herself out of the depression and it was eating her alive. She pushed it off as long as she could, but it struck her late one night as she came flying out of bed, her husband's name on her lips, and found the the bed empty as it always was. She couldn't stay there anymore, but she couldn't take Agnes where she needed to go, not in good conscience.

The idea of leaving her daughter behind made her chest ache. She lay on her back, fingers curled around the bedsheets, and desperate to breathe through it. Finally, after several long and painful moments she reached for her phone at her bedside and hit a name that had been making it up her speed dial list over the last months.

It rang and rang, but the voice that finally answered sounded much too awake for three in the morning. "Elizabeth, is everything alright?"

"Scottie," Liz greeted softly. "Hi. I know it's late…"

"When I told you that you could call at any time, I meant that."

Liz felt her lips tug just a little at the gentle reminder, but she couldn't find her voice. Not for what needed to be asked. It was too hard, too heavy, and it made her feel too damn weak.

"Liz?"

"Yeah," she managed, her voice catching. "I need your help. Can you come to DC?"

"I can be there first thing in the morning," she promised, and Liz found herself nodding wordlessly. She thought Scottie might have said something else and maybe she even answered, but what that was she couldn't say. She barely managed to hang the phone up before the first tear escaped down her cheek, the second and third and fourth quick to follow, and before she knew it she was sobbing into into her hands.

"Mama?"

Liz jerked up, blinking in the dark room to find a pair of blue eyes, the same shade as Tom's had been, staring widely at her. Agnes stood by her bed, dressed in her pink pjs and with her little stuffed dog in tow, and she was watching her curiously. Liz swallowed hard. "Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"

Agnes nodded and suddenly she was crawling into bed with her mother and into her lap. She wrapped her arms around her neck, fitting her chin against her shoulder. "Don't be sad, Mama."

A fresh wave of pain hit and Liz clung hard, feeling the tears hot as they escaped. "I miss him, baby," she admitted softly. "I miss him too much."

Her little girl didn't say anything, but adjusted her grip to settle in, making it clear that she had no intention of leaving the spot. Finally, when Liz was cried out all over again and Agnes was asleep against her chest, she slipped down, settling against the pillows behind her. She was doing the right thing for her daughter. She had to give her a chance, and right then, Liz didn't think she could do that.

She didn't sleep much more and she was up at the break of dawn, getting things together. There was a chance Scottie would say no, but Liz didn't think she would. It was her job to get a read on people, and despite everything that happened, it was one thing she could still do. Her mother-in-law had plenty of secrets, it was true, but that had become part of the norm. What mattered was that the time they had spent together had been enough to convince Liz that she had loved her son and that she would protect Tom's child with her life. It was complicated and it hurt to know that Tom would never have a chance to understand that his mother cared, but in the end Liz knew that the daughter of Raymond Reddington had no place to hedge a complicated parent-child relationship.

It was mid morning before the knock came at the door and Liz found herself struggling to get off the couch. The first attempt left he tilting back, her balance not quite right, but between determination and the cane she was using the second try got her to her feet. Agnes barely bothered to look at her as she picked her way towards the door. She opened it to find Scottie Hargrave standing there looking as put together as she ever did. "Hey, come on in."

Scottie gave a tight smile as she entered. "I came as soon as I could."

Liz managed a small sound of acknowledgement as she limped her way back into the apartment, leaning heavily on the cane.

"Hi, Grandma Scottie. I'm making pictures," Agnes declared from her place on the floor with her colouring crayons and papers all around her, and she held one up for emphasis.

"That's beautiful, Agnes. What is it?" her grandmother asked as Liz sank back down to the couch.

The little girl offered a shrug before jumping back into her project, and her mother found herself staring blankly, her voice hollow as she forced the words out. "I have to go. I can't…." She pulled in what she hoped would be a steadying breath. "He's everywhere here. I can't find a way past what happened if I stay."

Scottie nodded slowly. "Where do you think you'll go?"

"Somewhere where no one knows me. Where they couldn't find me if they wanted to. I need to find out where I go from here."

"So this is goodbye," the older woman said quietly, her gaze flickering to the packed boxes and everything Liz hadn't been able to touch.

"For now. I…." Her voice dropped, broken and quiet. "I can't take Agnes where I'm going." Blue eyes shifted to focus on her daughter. She was close enough to hear the conversation, but far too absorbed in her art to pay attention.

"I know that you're grieving for him too, and I know that you're trying to handle everything with Tom's father, but…."

"Liz," Scottie stopped her, reaching out and taking her hand, "it's alright. I meant what I said when I told you I was here to help."

She pulled in a steadying breath. "I never thought I'd come to the place where I…. it's different than Cuba. Tom had her. We always wanted at least one parent with her so that…." She stopped, trying to find a way to explain what was running through her mind without hurting the woman that had lost her son for the second time, but there wasn't any way around it. "We wanted to make sure she never grew up like us. Wondering where she comes from."

"She won't," Scottie swore, and thankfully she didn't seem to take it as a personal assault. "She won't question it for a moment, and the moment you're ready-"

"Thank you." Liz swallowed hard and squeezed her hand.

"Every mother wants to give her child the best chance they can have," Scottie said quietly, her gaze focused on Agnes, but there was a strain there that Liz knew. "To keep them safe, protect them in any way we can." She turned and met Liz's gaze. "That's what you're doing now, Liz, and no one can fault you for it."

"She can," Liz breathed.

"But she won't. I promise that she'll know that her mother loves her more than anything. I won't let her grow up the way her father did."

Liz managed a nod. "Thank you."

This wasn't forever. She wouldn't be Reddington. The moment that she knew she could, the moment she was able to come to terms with what happened, Liz would bring Agnes home.

"You about done?"

Tom staggered a little, trying to pull in enough oxygen for the exertion and he shook his head. "Still got a little more left."

Nez shot him a look. "That why you're setting off alarms?" she asked and motioned to the watch that had been screaming at him for at least sixty seconds at that point.

"Gotta stretch myself."

She snorted but gave, falling back into a fight stance. Tom shifted, steadying himself, and evened out his breathing as best as he could. He had another round I him, maybe even two, he was sure of it.

Nez moved, faking to one side and swinging around to the other. Tom saw it happening, but no matter how quickly his mind registered it, his body couldn't react fast enough. He heard her make a small sound of surprise, but it was too late to pull back, her leg slamming into his side and sending him falling to the floor hard. He lay there a moment as he struggled to breathe through the pain, and finally forced himself to roll and begin the climb to his feet.

"Hey, easy. You okay?" his partner asked, but he waved off her attempts to help.

"Yeah. It's fine. Not like anyone's gonna pull a punch in a real fight."

She snorted, but didn't move far. Tom wrapped a careful arm around his middle, but was happily surprised to find himself more or less steady on his feet, even if it hurt like hell. "Okay. Found the limit today," he muttered.

"Finally we agree."

The door to the gym opened and Dumont didn't pause as he came in, his gaze sweeping between Tom and Nez. "Scottie just landed."

"She and Howard weren't due in until tomorrow," Nez argued.

"Yeah, well, plans changed apparently." His dark eyes fixed on Tom. "If we wanna keep your extras under wraps you may want to-"

"Right," Tom cut him off, starting for the door. The only reason he had managed to get as far as he had was because neither Scottie or Howard had put their foot down on it. The moment they decided to go into overprotective mode they could close all sorts of doors to keep him from being able to work his way back into fighting shape. If they had their way, he'd never be back in the field again, but Liz needed him. She would need him when she woke up.

"Tom?"

Tom stopped halfway down the hall, purposefully loosing his grip on his sore side so that he didn't draw attention to it as he turned. "Hey, Scottie. Didn't expect you in today."

"I have a surprise that couldn't wait." If she noticed that he was dressed for a workout or probably looked like he'd run a marathon, she didn't say. She was smiling as she turned, motioning behind her. "Don't be shy. You know who this is?"

Tom found himself staring at a little girl that came around Scottie, still clinging to the hemline of her dress with one hand and she had a death grip on a stuffed dog in another. She looked up at him, curious and a little apprehensive, but he would have known her anywhere. "Agnes," he breathed out his daughter's name.

Scottie's smile didn't fade. "Who is that, Agnes? Do you know?"

Agnes looked up at her grandmother. "From the pictures? Daddy."

"That's right. Why don't you say hi? He's waited a long time to see you."

Tom sank to one knee on the floor, putting himself closer to her height. She'd grown so much, but it had been months…. No, it had been over a year. He hadn't seen his family in over a year now.

She toddled up and stopped about an arm length away, dark blue eyes roaming over him, taking him in. He watched her tilt her head to the side and it was everything he could do to remain still and let her explore at her speed. She didn't remember him. There was no way she could, but maybe somehow she might know him.

After a long moment he blinked, feeling something warm escaping down his cheek and Agnes reached one small hand forward to wipe at it and Tom broke into a smile. "Hey," he managed.

"Hi."

His breath was shaky as he released it, but she was holding his gaze. She wasn't afraid, just a little unsure. He knew the feeling. "You mind if I give you a hug, kiddo?"

There was a beat of silence as she considered it before she finally nodded. "Okay."

He didn't hesitate, didn't dare let himself second guess as he pulled his daughter in close. She didn't hug him back, but she didn't squirm either, and he pressed a kiss against her dark hair. "You're so pretty, Agnes. Just like your mom. I've missed you so much."

She made a small sound and he finally released her, his eyes locking with Scottie's. "How? Howard-"

"Howard never has been ready to rock the boat with Raymond. I, on the other hand, have no issue with it." His mother flashed him a grin before softening the smile for Agnes. "How about we see if Daddy will help us set up a room right next to his?"

"Okay," Agnes said, and just like that she was walking over to Scottie, taking her hand. Tom tried not to let it sting too badly. He loved her and she was with him and safe. That's what mattered. Everything else would work its way in in time.

Notes: The plot bunny for this story first started gnawing on me during Winter Hiatus and at least part of the first chapter was written at some point then. One of the many things I had to tackle in the planning for the story in fully, once 5B started, was how to deal with Agnes, Scottie, and the terrifying 'wrap up' of Redemption in canon. In general I approach my canon divergent AU's with the idea of 'if this is going to change, it has to have a reason that stems from the original change'. Howard staying out of prison may have been my one exception because, honestly, canon made zero sense on the timeline there. Tom just wouldn't have had time to handle all of that and build this trusting, fantastic, loving relationship with his mother up. I did know that I wanted to have Scottie bring Agnes back to the bunker and come live with Tom though, so the build up to this took some working and reworking. This chapter broke my heart like crazy, but I'm pretty happy with the way it got here. I hope you guys like it too :)

Next Time: Howard meets Agnes, Solomon and Nez take a step in getting closer to Garvey, and Agnes tells her daddy a secret.

Chapter Text

"Have you lost your mind?"

Scottie half rolled her eyes as she looked back at him. "Don't be so dramatic, Howard. You and I both know he's pushing himself too hard to get out. Agnes is a distraction for him and she makes him happy."

The scowl he had fixed her with didn't fade. "If she were younger or if you'd done this before she'd gone to stay with Liz-"

"The opportunity wasn't available before Liz took her. You made sure of that with Reddington."

He snorted and she smirked. "She's going to be the reason he finds out."

Scottie didn't dignify that with a response. She knew the risks, but so far the benefits had outweighed those. Agnes was settling in, Tom was soaking up his time with her, and if she did say something that tipped him off they would handle it. Surely they could handle that.

"You should go see her. Tom would love that." Howard looked over her and Scottie saw a strange look pass just behind his usual guarded expression. It sparked a memory from many years before and she found herself smiling. "You'll be better with her than you think."

She watched that expression close off again and she knew she had pegged him. Scottie kept her own expression softer. There was no reason to antagonize him here, no matter how easy it would be.

After a long moment she saw his shoulders droop and his eyes flickered to catch hers. "Don't go behind my back on something like this again," he said as he stood.

Scottie didn't answer as he started out of the room. She wouldn't make that promise to him any sooner than he would make it to her. They were on the same side in a way, and still working against each other in so many others. If he was truly worried about Agnes driving Tom to do something foolish or if he was just worried that Scottie's actions would sway their son more in her favour, there was no way to be entirely sure. Maybe it was even a little bit of both. In all the years she had known the man, he had never had a single, straightforward reason for his actions. Why would he start now?

"You remember where you got your puppy?" Tom asked, motioning to the stuffed dog and pulling his daughter's attention to him. He waited for a moment as she thought, her little nose scrunching up as she looked for the memory and he couldn't help but smile at the expression.

"I've had it since I was little," she said at last.

Tom's smile grew just a little more. "I brought that home for you from New York for your first birthday."

He watched her eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yep."

"He's my favourite."

"I've noticed," he chuckled. "You haven't gone anywhere without him."

Agnes shook her head, her dark hair flying in one direction and then the other. "Puppy goes everywhere." She turned to the stuffed dog thoughtfully before holding him up to her daddy and pressing the little black nose against his arm. "He likes you," she told him very matter-of-factly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She ducked her head shyly. "Me too."

"Tell you a secret, kiddo?" Tom whispered and that pulled a smile as she nodded.

"I like secrets."

He leaned in from where he was seated with her on the floor, bumping her shoulder very lightly. "I like you too."

The small smile broadened and she actually giggled for him. "That's not a secret!"

Tom feigned surprise. "Really? I thought I was keeping it pretty well," he laughed and winked at her. "Maybe you're just really good at guessing secrets, you think of that?"

"She'd come by it naturally enough."

Both Keens looked over to the entry to the room that they were in to see Howard lingering at the door. He'd been at the base for days now, but he hadn't put himself anywhere around Agnes. Tom hadn't known what to make of it, but seeing his hesitation now he couldn't help but think of the conversation they had had weeks before about not being good at this. He didn't know how to react around her, so he'd simply removed himself from the complication that Scottie had added to their situation.

But he was there. Maybe even willing to try.

Agnes immediately scooted around to sit closer to her daddy and Tom pulled her in. "It's alright. That's your grandpa."

"No it's not. My grandpa wears a hat."

Tom snorted a laugh as he shifted to stand. "You've got two grandpas," he explained.

Agnes did not look convinced as she watched Howard. Finally sure turned back to Tom and stuck her hands in the air in a clear sign that she wanted to be held. Tom ignored his father's immediate protest as he leaned down to carefully scoop the little girl up. He felt the pull, but managed to get her situated with only a little discomfort. "C'mon, Howard. You really think I'm not going to hold my kid."

Howard looked like he swallowed his argument and Tom flashed a grin as he inched closer, Agnes wrapping her arms around his neck a little tighter and burying her face in his shoulder stubbornly. "Don't take it personally. This is the closest she's wanted to be to me since she got here."

"You used to do the same thing when you were her age," Howard murmured, his gaze a little distant. "You weren't overly fond of strangers."

Agnes peeked at that. "When Daddy was little?"

Howard hummed a soft affirmative.

"When?"

"Oh…. it's been thirty years since he was your age."

Agnes scrunched her nose up as she considered that. "That's a really long time."

"I guess it is."

Tom huffed a laugh and kissed the side of her head. "Thanks, kid."

She shifted her free hand - the other still latched to her puppy - to hold onto a handful of his t-shirt to ensure her balance as she turned to look at Howard. "Tell me a story?"

That seemed to catch Howard off guard a little. "What kind of story?"

"About Daddy. Like the stories Grandpa Red told 'bout Mama."

"Oh." His gaze shifted to Tom like he expected the younger man to help him out.

Tom offered a half shrug. "I have exactly zero memories before about five years old. Not going to be any help on that one."

Howard loosed a breath and shifted his weight from one foot to another, his expression thoughtful as he searched for a story that would meet Agnes' standards, which might be pretty high if she had spent her time hearing stories woven together by her maternal grandfather. Finally, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I used to travel a lot for work," he told her slowly, "so I was gone a lot."

"Did you miss Daddy?"

"I did," Howard said softly. "This was before smartphones and video chat, so I couldn't even see him."

"Me either," Agnes said seriously. "I haven't seen him since I was little."

Tom tightened his hold on her and she leaned into him, listening to the story.

"One trip I was gone for two weeks when it was only supposed to be one. By the last day, your daddy was so upset with me he wouldn't get on the phone to talk to me. When I got home he wouldn't come see me."

"That's mean, Daddy," Agnes told him and Tom huffed a short laugh.

Howard's gaze flickered to Tom, even though he was still speaking to Agnes. "Your grandma told me to go check my office, so I put my bags down, went upstairs, and guess what I found there."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah. Your daddy had heard that I was helping to build something for our military, so he made my whole office into a fort and told me that I didn't have to go away again. He had built it for me."

"Was that what they wanted you to build?" Agnes asked and Howard chuckled at that.

"No, but I think he built something better."

Tom stared at his father, wishing his mind would pull the memories from whatever forgotten corner they were stored in, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't recall the time that Howard was describing. He wanted to. He wanted to remember loving his father so much that he would have done anything to keep him home with them. He wanted to remember looking up to him and being happy with both of his parents before everything had fallen apart in his own childhood. Before Frank and Eva, before Bud and St Regis.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby girl?" Tom answered, his daughter's voice pulling him from his thoughts.

"I wanna build a fort with you and Grandpa."

"I think we can manage that. What do you think, Howard?"

"I think that the little princess has spoken."

Agnes cheered and squirmed down from her father's arms, ready and willing to direct the fort building. The three of them worked together to put it up in what had turned into Agnes' playroom, Tom and Howard switching to go on runs for more blankets and to scrounge up a few more chairs to drape them over. It felt good to focus on something other than the endless journey to get his health back up to speed. For just a few hours his daughter was his only focus, the looming dangers on the horizon pushed just a little.

By the time they broke for dinner, came back, and finished, Agnes was wiped out, and before Tom knew it he was agreeing to stay the night in the newly constructed fort. As they got settled Agnes nestled in close to her daddy's side with her favourite stuffed dog between them and one hand latched onto his t-shirt like nothing could pry her off. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I like the fort."

The smile tugged wide and Tom let his eyes drift shut. "Me too. We did a good job, huh?"

"Yeah…. Daddy?"

"Hmm?" he asked sleepily and felt her manage to inch closer still.

"You promise not to go away again?"

Dark blue eyes popped back open and he pulled in a steadying breath as he looked for the best way to answer. He didn't know how to explain that when her mom woke up that the two of them would have to finish what Garvey started over a year before, and that Agnes couldn't be there for that. They had to keep her safe.

"Daddy?"

He shifted onto his side so he could look Agnes in the eye. "There's going to be a day, maybe soon, when I have to go away for a little while to help your mom, but what I can promise you is that I'll come back. We both will."

She lay there in the shadows of the fort they had built, her expression far too somber for a three-year-old little girl. "But you'll come back?"

"I promise." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We will never leave you forever, okay?"

"Okay."

He felt her relax against him and after a long moment he let his own eyes slip closed again.

Matias Solomon watched the docks carefully from his car. The sun had sunk down below the western sky hours before, and while there were lights along the stretch they still left more than a few dark corners for people to skulk in. He would know. Some of those people were his own.

Scottie had been firm on the idea that he would need backup for this meet. It was dangerous enough on its own, but with the lead to Garvey riding on it, it needed to be handled with the utmost care.

Solomon had had one condition for dealing with the backup that he was sure was more trouble than they were worth: Nez would be the only one to attend the meet with him. That hadn't been a hard sell on any side.

She tapped on the window and he reached to flick the locks so she could slide into the passenger seat. "No movement from one end to the other. You sure your lady's gonna show?"

"What? Missing babysitting the Keens already?"

She snorted. "Agnes is a little angel. So much better behaved than you."

He flashed her a grin. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

"True."

"So how is Keen holding?"

"Well he's still alive. I count that as a win." Her pale gaze slid over to look at him grin the corner of her eye. "I don't think you'll have to worry about him backing you in the field any time soon though."

"Still slow going?"

"Yeah, but with his kid there, he's laser focused on her. Not that that was an accident."

"The Hargraves manipulating a situation? Say it isn't so," Solomon drawled lightly.

"About the only thing that would break him from it would be Liz waking up."

The amusement washed out of him immediately, leaving him staring at Nez for half a beat. His mask of indifference didn't fall back in place quick enough, though, and she spotted the change. "What?"

He knew that tone. "Hmm?"

Her expression shifted from suspicion to realization. "She's awake, isn't she?"

Solomon purses his lips together a little. "Nez, I don't have to tell you that Scottie has a reason for keeping that from him. Howard too, most likely."

"That's his wife, Mattie. His family."

"And what would he do if he knew? Go running after her with half a plan and nowhere close to field-ready?" He took a deep breath, his dark eyes turning back to the docks. "What he does to himself and why he does it doesn't mean a damn thing to me, but Scottie…. she's soft on him."

"Yeah, real soft when she had you beat him half to death," Nez growled and Solomon snorted a laugh.

"My, doesn't that sound like Howard Hargrave? Scottie knew I was never going to kill the little bastard, and it was a matter of security." He stopped, thinking that he saw movement, before waving his hand as he spoke. "That's Scottie. She's an oddity in the world of espionage. Most of us can't separate business from personal. I don't have to tell you that's why people like us don't have people back home to worry their pretty heads over us. Our lives don't fit that, and when we try to make it fit we die. Just look at Keen. I guarantee he tried to play hero for his wife and if he hadn't had a father willing to toss the rule book out he'd be rotting six feet under. There'll be a day when his precious Liz or Agnes are in danger and mommy and daddy won't be there to catch him when he falls. That's the reality of our world."

The feed in his ear buzzed. "Sir, we've got movement on the south end."

"Showtime," Solomon answered with a grin, but his fingers paused on the door handle at the sound of Nez's question.

"There's never been a day you've wanted what he found?"

He paused for half a beat before replacing the truth with a lie. "No. Let's go. Can't keep Ms Zhou waiting."

The violence that he had seen growing up in St Regis had never really influenced his dreams at night. He could still recall going back to the hotel after a particularly bloody end to an operation and sleeping like a baby. It wasn't until he had met Liz that the nightmares really started creeping in. Not until he had something to lose.

He could remember a few over the years, always following major events. He had been overwhelmed by them every time he had closed his eyes in Dresden. This time wasn't quite as bad, but it was close. He found himself burning or drowning or covered in blood. The pain cut through, the memory of it sharp as the blade, and he would wake up gasping.

Tom couldn't pull himself out of this one though. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Everything hurt and all he could manage was to roll over to see the man bending over Liz, plastic stretched between his hands, and the way that she struggled weakly as he pressed it over her nose and mouth. Her name tumbled off his lips as he tried to get to his knees, collapsing against the carpet beneath him.

"I want you to watch this," Garvey said, suddenly right over his shoulder. "I want you to see what you've done."

"You did this," Tom managed, the words released on struggling breaths. He pressed his hand to his side and felt the blood pouring through his fingers. It hurt like hell, but he forced himself to look up. "I'm coming for you, and you're not getting out of it alive."

Garvey motioned. "You're not going to make it that far."

Tom turned, fear spiking as he saw Liz kick and fight and then go still very suddenly. "No," he breathed, and suddenly he was on his feet. The pain didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Liz.

He fell to his knees next to her, vision blurring, and pulled her up into his arms. "Liz? Lizzie, babe, open your eyes. Liz, please. Please." The panic built on itself with every still second that ticked by, folding in and over him, pulling him under. He reached a trembling hand out to her pale face, finding it colder than it should have beened. "I can't do this without you. You have to wake up…. Liz!"

"Daddy?"

The panic halted and he blinked at the voice. It wasn't Liz, she hadn't stirred in his arms, and Garvey and his thugs were gone. He knew the voice though. He knew that he knew it.

"Daddy? Daddy, wake up. Daddy?"

He blinked hard and Liz was gone. He was knelt down in the shambles of their home alone, the small voice breaking through the haze, and suddenly he was staring up and into a pair of wide, dark blue eyes that looked just like his own. Agnes looked worried until he forced as much of a smile as he could manage. "Hey."

She sat back. "You wouldn't wake up."

Tom pulled in as deep of a breath as he dared, desperately trying to steady himself for his daughter. "It's okay. Just a bad dream."

Agnes sat back on the floor, her gaze steady on him as if she were trying to figure something out. After a moment she moved, crawling so that she was curled up right next to him, her head nestled against his shoulder so that he could wrap a protective arm around her in return. "Mama has bad dreams too," she said quietly. "This makes them better. She told me so."

The words slammed into him and Tom struggled to stay where he was so that he wouldn't scare her. "When was that, Agnes?"

"Huh?"

"When did Mama tell you that?"

"Before Grandma came and got me."

"Baby girl, look at me," Tom coaxed softly. "This is important, okay?"

"'Kay," she answered sleepily, doing as he asked.

"Is your mom awake? Did she wake up?"

"Yeah," his little girl chirped. "She took a really long nap, but then she woke up."

Liz was awake. She was awake and Scottie hadn't said a damn thing. It was everything he could do to keep his voice steady. "Did Grandma tell her where you were going? That you were going to see me?"

She shrugged a little. "Dunno. She said it was a secret." She inched back down. "Daddy, I'm sleepy. Can we go to sleep?"

"Yeah," he managed, forcing himself to relax back on the pallet under their fort, shock giving way to a seething anger. They had left him to think that his wife was still comatose and left her to think that he was dead. At least Scottie, but probably Howard too. Maybe even Nez and Dumont. He couldn't be sure until he talked to them how deep the betrayal ran, but he would. First thing in the morning he would track his team down and he'd have answers. Then, as soon as he knew who he could trust, no one could keep him from going to his wife.

Notes: I felt like this story needed at least a short fluff break for Daddy Tom, Grandpa Howard, and fort building with Agnes. Agnes coming back into Tom's life was one of my major points for this show and I've hit one other I was really look forward to since, and the chapter that I'm currently working on should end with one I've been dying for since I started writing this story (three guesses what that is and the first two don't count ;) )

For those of you that follow my sneak peek gif sets on Tumblr, the dream was a bit more traumatic in the writing than the preview with the scenes I had to work with with it. I was really happy with that set over all though, because it seriously looked like Agnes was shaking him awake. Poor Tom's been through so much. All he wants to do is get his family back together and keep them safe.

Next Time: Tom confronts Nez about secrets kept and where to go from there while Liz gets used to her new life in Alaska.

Chapter Text

It had been a long night and she hasn't slept, her mind working overtime to process and try to sort all of the information that she'd been slammed with in the last twelve hours.

The meeting with the coordinator for the Nash Syndicate's supply line at the docks had gone as well as it could have. Li Zhao had been an odd woman with a wig and dark glasses even in the dead of night. She had pulled up a translation app on her phone, but seemed hesitantly pleased when both Solomon and Nez had been capable of carrying on the conversation in Mandarin.

Whatever issue Solomon had caused for the syndicate had been blamed on his initial point of contact and the man was likely at the bottom of the ocean by that point. Zhao seemed pleased enough with Solomon's results, though, and a deal was struck. He was in, and once the position was secured Nez had flown back out to the base, the other piece of information she had learned battering around her head with enough force to give her a headache.

Elizabeth Keen was awake.

That within itself was good news. It was what Tom had been fighting for, but he likely hadn't expected his parents to keep that information from him. He'd trusted them to be straight with him on that if nothing else. He trusted her too, and that put Nez in a hell of a spot in the middle of three Hargraves and a lot of secrets. Where that left her and her own loyalties pulled in more directions than usual.

Mattie had had a point in that Scottie and Howard likely had reasons for keeping the information from Tom. He was stubborn when it came to his family and had proven he was willing to throw caution for his own well-being to the wind if he thought it would protect them. He'd pushed and struggled through over a year of recovery at this point, and while he was mostly steady on his feet he wasn't field ready. They had done some sparring work, but they hadn't dared put him in the firing range yet. His hands weren't steady enough, even now, and she had suggested that they work on hand to hand before she smuggled a gun to him behind his parents' backs.

There was all of that and probably more, but Tom was a grown man, fully capable of comprehending what was at stake. He was also her partner - a man that had called her family more than once - and would see withholding the information as a betrayal. The man needed to be able to trust at least one person on his side without reservation.

Nez moved down the hall with purpose in each step, determined that she could sleep after this was handled. She rounded the corner into the playroom that Agnes had set up and was a little startled to find Scottie in with the little girl.

Her boss - former boss? It was hard to keep up with those two - looked up, her long fingers tangled in her granddaughter's thick hair and halfway through an attempt I braid it. "Nez. How'd the meet go?"

"Good. Great. Solomon's position is set."

"Great to hear. It's good to know he had someone at his back that he can trust."

"Grandma's braiding my hair," Agnes cut in.

"Trying. It's not cooperating very well," Scottie mused and Nez wondered if she'd fallen into some sort of alternate dimension.

She cleared her throat. "I'll make sure to have the full report on yours and Howard's desks in a few hours."

Scottie nodded. "Of course. Get some sleep."

Nez turned, grateful that Scottie seemed more interested in her time with Agnes than asking why Nez had gone there first instead of the office space the Hargraves kept at the base. She moved down towards the room they kept their research in. If Tom wasn't with his daughter, he was likely there.

Something caught her attention as she turned down the hall, and before she had time to register what it was she was being slammed back against the wall. She hit with less force than the momentum should have taken her and she just barely stopped herself from lashing out when she saw angry blue eyes that she recognized well. "Tom, what the actual hell?" she hissed.

"Tell me you didn't know," he growled. "Look me in the eye and tell me you haven't been lying to me for weeks. Months! I don't even know how long."

His grip on her was firm, but carefully controlled. "Tell me what you're talking about."

Hurt flickered through the anger for just a moment. "Liz."

Well that made more sense. "I just found out. Solomon let it slip on the op last night. I was on my way to talk to you about it."

She watched as he worked his way through what she was say, that clever mind of his likely weighing every inflection, every twitch in her face that would tell him she was lying. Good thing she'd made up her mind.

Finally she watched some of the tension fade and he stepped back, one hand falling to his side and the other moving across the top of his hair in a nervous motion. "Sorry."

Nez pulled in a breath. "I get it. You don't know who to trust and you jumped." She caught his gaze. "But you come at me like that again and I'll flatten you, you hear me?"

"Yeah," he huffed, leaning against the opposite wall.

They were alone in the hallway. This was as good of a place as any to talk. "What are your plans?"

He didn't answer right away, which was a good sign. Hell, it was a good sign he wasn't already gone. If Agnes hadn't been there he probably wouldn't have waited at all.

After a long moment he sighed. "I need transportation out, documentation to travel on, and a go-bag."

"All doable." His gaze was instantly on her, shock written plainly across his features. "But-"

"There it is."

"-it's going to take time. And work."

"I know it's gonna take work."

"You can't even hold your hands steady enough to shoot right now, Tom."

"I know it's gonna take time," he huffed, frustration lining every word. "But I can't just let her think I'm dead though, Nez. She's going to think…. I can't let her think I did this to her. That I'd hurt her like that, betray her like that."

"I can get that, but there's a reason that only secured lines get patched through here. We can't give Garvey the chance to pick up intel that you're alive."

"There's a chance he'll have Liz's phone tapped."

"Hers and everyone around her, yeah." Nez pushed herself off the wall. "I'll make you a deal: you give this the time it needs. All the documents to let you travel without tipping anyone off, the continued training to get you field ready, and I'll go to DC and make sure your wife knows you're alive."

He stood there for a long moment and was so silent that Nez thought he was trying to find a way to turn what she thought was a very reasonable offer down. Finally he straightened, his eyes licking with hers. "Thank you," he managed, his voice breaking a little.

She tried for a smile. "I don't talk about my family much-"

"Ever," Tom countered with a small smirk.

"-because they're not worth thinking about anymore. You're my family, Tom. My brother. I'm on your side. Got it?"

He nodded slowly and she thought he did. He was going to go to Liz. There was no stopping that. There was only doing everything in her power to make sure Garvey never got a chance to finish what he started.

It felt good to hold a gun again after over a year of recovery. The range had been down there, mostly unused except for Nez and occasionally Scottie, though she would never admit to it. Tom had seen it, he had known about it, but had never made a move to use it. Not until then.

His long fingers slipped around the smooth metal, his palm pressing against the hilt as he slid his pointer next to the trigger without touching it. He had worked hard, and while his experience or the medication or come combination thereof had left his hands much less steady than they had once been, he hadn't actually tested out what that would mean at the range.

If he were honest he wondered if he might have been afraid to. Until he stood there, feet set, gun in hand, and eyes focused on the target it was all just theory. A theory that needed to be tested, and that afternoon seemed as good of a time as any.

Liz was gone. Ghosted, Nez had explained. No one knew where she was and she'd left no visible trail to follow. There were ways of tracking down someone that didn't want to be found, they all knew that, but Tom knew Liz. She had left Agnes and she had run. Whatever reason she had for it was one he was sure she thought was solid, but she didn't know everything. She needed to, and to get her that information he needed to be ready.

Tom drew in a deep breath, sliding his finger across the metal and repositioning his grip. He'd done this a thousand times. He just needed to let instinct and training take over and fill in the gaps left behind. One hard blink to steady himself and he leveled the gun, shifted his finger, and pulled the trigger.

It recoiled on him, but he was ready for it. He squinted through his contacts at the paper target a few yards down the stretch. A frown tugged at his lips and he stepped forward , finally having to admit that he had completely missed the mark. There wasn't a scratch on the paper.

The trained operative loosed a long breath and pulled the gun up as if he were going to shoot again, his dark eyes focusing on the way his hand trembled and with a frustrated huff he pulled his other hand up to help steady it, firing off three more consecutive rounds and then a fourth for good measure.

Paper swayed this time, the bullets clipping it as they still missed their mark and Tom set his jaw. It was okay. It had to be okay. Like everything else he would get there. He would hit his target again and he'd be able to hold his own in a fight. He had known this wouldn't be easy, that he'd have to fight and struggle to find Liz and to be able to help her. That was nothing new in his life.

"Hey?"

Tom turned, tugging the sound resistant muffs from his ears. "Hey, you guys find something?"

Nez offered him a tight smile. "Yeah. A little girl asking for her daddy."

He opened his mouth to respond, but then let his jaw close again. Agnes. She had no idea what had changed to go from Disney-marathoning days and fort-making nights to her daddy suddenly spending hours a day at the gym or down in the range. She would be confused, maybe even a little hurt.

"You're not out of here yet," Nez reminded him quietly. "Dumont has an algorithm running for all the aliases that you gave him and we're at a holding point with the search until he finds something."

"Right." He looked back at the paper that just over a year ago would have been shredded. Liz wasn't the only one to focus on, no matter how important. "She in the playroom?"

"She wanted to show you her drawing."

A smile tilted his lips back up and Tom clicked the safety back on. Without another word he placed the firearm in its case, set the protective gear on the table, and started out of the room.

"It's the first thing you think about every morning," Ressler had told her before she left. "You wake up with this…. Pain that you can't make go away. It's every day and sometimes it feels like it'll never stop, but then, eventually, you think about something else first. It doesn't go away. I still miss her and my guess is you're always going to miss him, but…. You'll get there, Keen."

If Ressler had known she was going to disappear or not, Liz still wasn't sure, but he'd done his best to reach out to her in a way none of the others could: as someone who had been there. She had appreciated it, but it hadn't helped. She could imagine that it ever would, but she hoped that someday she might understand it a little better.

The cabin had come furnished, stuck back off the beaten path that wasn't very beaten. There had been something enticing about the idea of solitude, the only real contact that she would be forced to have with anyone when she went to town and on her terms. Without a phone there were no calls and no one there knew anything about her, much less looked at her with all the pity in their eyes and the condolences falling from their lips. They weren't a constant reminder of what she had lost, nor was she surrounded by the physical reminders that were little better than seeing an actual ghost walking through living room at night.

She had been there a little over a week when she finally had to admit that a lack of people didn't necessarily mean quiet. Liz jumped at every little sound, everything around her new and uncertain, especially when she tried to sleep. The days were okay. She could handle the cold and the fog that rolled in. She kept busy keeping the rickety old cabin habitable, but at night the branches scratched the windows and the wind howled low and mournful outside. The house creaked and she woke screaming Tom's name into the empty night.

Liz had always liked dogs, even if she'd owned relatively few over the course of her life. Sam had had a lab when she was little, but he'd died and she hadn't been able to bring herself to want another one after that. Sam had tried to ease her into it and told the story for years about how he'd had to carry a wailing Lizzie from the pet store as she sobbed the dead dog's name and held onto him like her entire world was coming down around her. She hadn't owned another dog until Hudson, and even that hadn't been a choice that she'd made. Tom had just shown up with him one day, that goofy grin of his plastered across his face. They'd hit another snag in the adoption process and he'd brought home a puppy. She could still remember standing in their living room, shaking her head, and reminding him that a baby and a puppy were entirely different. He knew, he'd told her, but she was still smiling, and that had been the point. She had been, and they had loved that scruffy mutt right up until Kate had had to find a new home for him when they'd left for Cuba.

Kate. The name seemed fitting when she brought the shepherd mix back to the cabin. The dog would be her protector, her guardian, both from the things that lurked in the shadows and if anyone ever tried to hurt her. The bond was instant for Kate and Liz was fond of her.

It was easy to fall into a routine out in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. She slept, she took her meds, she ate, she chopped wood, she worked through her exercises. She fixed the generator, she fed the dog, she fed herself, and she took her meds before bed. In and out. Every day. Sometimes she'd go into town to pick up supplies or a package that she had shipped from DC. She gave them the name Grace. They thought they knew her, but all they saw was a façade, and that was okay. No one asked her how she was doing. No one knew to. Her health, her grief, and everything that meant anything was kept private and life marched on and she moved with it in a haze, waiting for something she wasn't sure was even possible to obtain.

She had been there at least a month when she sent for a box from her place in DC. It was stupid, she knew, and she'd hate herself for the impulse she'd given to, but once it was sent for it was difficult to undo without the box being lost in transit, so when it showed up at the post office two weeks later she had carried it out to her truck and into the cabin. Kate had danced at her feet, hoping for something to play with as Liz pulled the record player out from the careful packaging and set it up, placing the record that she'd specified on it. It felt like a good sign that she didn't break down crying as the tune played out from her husband's record and as she closed her eyes she could see him at their apartment, back to the living room as he cooked dinner and completely oblivious that she had stopped to listen to him sing along. He'd loved that thing, and if there were pieces of Tom that she could learn to keep maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe that meant she was healing.

Some days she could listen to it, some days she couldn't. There were good and bad days, and sometimes the bad ones came without warning. It was part of the new normal, and with that everything seemed to blend in together and she felt herself fade into it.

The last handful of weeks knowing that Liz was awake and out there somewhere had felt longer than the year that Tom had been waiting for the news. He could feel it weighing on him, ripping at him, and Agnes was picking up on that. He didn't have to say a word - not that his three-year-old daughter would have been able to understand everything that was happening then - but he could see the shift in her. She was cranky, slow to smile, and clung hard the moment he moved to go anywhere she couldn't follow. It hurt, even more to know that he was going to have to leave her.

The alert came in first thing in the morning, an alias finally triggering one. They couldn't risk accessing the Artax Network for visual confirmation, but Tom knew. It was her. She was pulling away, handling her anger and her pain alone, but not forever.

His paperwork had come in piecemeal, but it was all there and ready for him. Nez was hesitant on actually admitting that she felt like he was field-ready, but she knew better than to fight him on it at this point. The one place she did put up a fight was in the fact that he wanted her to stay.

"Listen," Tom said quietly, hesitating just outside his daughter's room, "I can't leave her here alone."

"She won't be. Howard and Scottie -"

"Exactly."

Nez's expression tighten. "They would never hurt her, Tom. Either of them."

He squeezed his eyes shut, stress feeding into the motion. "I want to believe that, but right now I need to be able to focus. To do that I need someone here I can trust completely. That's you, Nez." Tom watched as the reality of what he was trusting her with sunk in. "I'll be okay."

She pulled in a deep breath and he knew he'd won this round. "Fine, but you keep your watch on. It'll give Dumont a full readout of your vitals and will send out a signal if anything goes too wrong."

"Like death?" Tom asked cheekily and Nez rolled her eyes.

"Preferably before it gets to that point," she grumbled. "We can only do so much from here though. You need backup."

"I hadn't planned on going at this alone," he promised her.

"Good. Everything's set. You have exactly half an hour before everything kicks into gear. Dumont will loop the feeds and you'll have a vehicle waiting for you out the southern entrance." She handed him a go-bag and shoved him towards the door. "Go say goodbye to your daughter."

The amusement faded immediately as Tom turned towards the door, the reality of what he needed to do weighing on him. To put his family back together he had to leave his daughter. Again. It hurt like hell now that he was facing telling her.

Tom set his jaw and turned the knob on the door.

Agnes was in the middle of her room with stuffed animals surrounding her like an audience. She had several sheets of drawing paper in front of her and she leaned over them, scribbling across the page breaks with absolute focus. Tom inched closer, his footsteps light, and he saw three stick people together, the smallest in the middle and the bigger ones holding the little girl's hands. "Is that your mom and me?" he asked after a long moment.

"Yeah."

He took a careful seat on the floor with her, careful to avoid both art and stuffed animals. "I like the smiles."

"Me too."

There was so much that he and Liz had planned as a family. The beach, the park…. it all seemed so normal, but things kept getting in their way. They had thought they would have time. And they did. They would. The sooner he left, the sooner they would get her back.

"Agnes? Hey, look at me for a second, kiddo? I need to tell you something." He waited for her to out her crayons down and crawled into his lap. When Scottie had first brought her here he'd been just another stranger to her, but now he was Daddy. He was the one that chased away bad dreams away at night and made her feel safe. Now he had to protect her in another way.

Agnes leaned in against his chest. "You're going away," she said softly.

Tom swallowed hard. It still amazed him how much she picked up on around her. "I need to help your mom."

"Will you bring her back?"

"As soon as I can," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "I hate leaving you, you know that right?"

She leaned back so she could crane her neck and look up at him. "Can I come with you?"

The question was so innocent and he wanted to tell her yes no matter how unrealistic it was. He squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat to keep his voice steady. "I wish you could, baby girl, but it's gonna be dangerous."

"I'm brave, Daddy."

"I know you are," he managed, "but someone's gotta stay here and watch after your grandma and grandpa. Can you keep them out of trouble for me?"

She seemed to think about that for a minute before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay," he breathed and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, and Tom held on, desperate not to let the moment slip past him. He wanted to lock it away like the photo he carried in his wallet. He wanted to remember holding his little girl and wanted her to know - beyond a shadow of any doubt - that she was loved.

"You'll come back," she whispered, and he wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Always," he swore. "I'll always come home to you, Agnes. No matter what happens, I'll always come back to you."

She nodded against his shoulder and he pulled her in tighter, not ready to leave just yet.

It had been a long few days. Hell, it had been a long few weeks and even a longer year, but the last few days chasing down Reddington's newest Blacklister while trying to balance Prescott's increasingly insane demands left Donald Ressler jet lagged and exhausted, and apparently it had showed. Cooper had told him to take a couple of days. He'd argued, knowing that that would just leave him with hours to dwell on things he'd rather not spend the time thinking about, but Cooper had insisted. He was on a twenty-four hour leave, minimum.

Ressler dragged himself up the stairs of his apartment building, a bag of takeout Chinese food in his hand for dinner. He would crash, see how long he could sleep, and figure out the rest in the morning. There had to be a night where that actually worked, right? He snorted a mirthless laugh at the thought, wondering just when this had become his life.

When he'd called a cleaner after killing Laurel Hitchin. When he'd broken the law to save his own skin. Some moments he remembered it wasn't just him on the line. He'd been there for the investigations that had been conducted into the Task Force and how they put everything at risk every time. The moment an outsider started poking their nose in everything they had built, all the good they did was put at risk. This could have been the one that blew it all hell. He'd been protecting them too.

The thoughts slammed to a standstill as Ressler moved to slip his key into the lock and clear blue eyes focused in on small scratches around the lock like someone had slipped as they tried to pick it. He set the food and his travel bag down on the hall floor as he reached to pull his gun from the holster. Carefully he turned the key, every muscle tensed and ready for whatever or whoever was on the other side.

He pushed the door open and let it swing, his gaze sweeping his open living room. There was no one immediately visible, but he saw his personal laptop set up on the coffee table next to an open box of pizza. Next to the table sat a bag that didn't look a whole lot different than his own now out in the hallway. He inched forward, finger hovering over the trigger of his gun, to try to get a better.

A noise drew his aim towards the kitchen and he froze at the sight of a dead man standing in his apartment, an unopened beer in his hand and a slow grin creeping to his lips as he raised his hands slowly as if to show he wasn't a threat. "Hey, Ressler."

"Tom."

Notes: If you follow my Tumblr you know I've been working on Tessler moments just a week or two ago and we're finally here! I'm so excited that Ress gets to join in relatively early in this story. I've missed our One Man Justice League and all the Tessler snark. XD

Anyone have any predictions/theories for the finale tonight? I've been disappointed that there hasn't been a lot to add into my story from canon this season, but it's been very thin on mythology, so what can a girl do? We've been promised answers tonight, so we'll see. Fingers crossed and I bet there will be a lot of plotpointing tonight after it to fill in some gaps.

Next Time: Solomon finds some trouble while Tom and Ressler go looking for Liz.

Chapter Text

Donald Ressler stood frozen in place, glock aimed at the man that had broken into his home. Tom Keen's grin was looking a little more strained with each passing moment that Ressler wasn't lowering his weapon and finally he cleared his throat. "Listen, man, I'm really trying to limit the number of holes people are putting in me lately, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" the ginger agent managed to croak out, shock drying his throat. He finally lowered his weapon, but only so he wouldn't shoot his partner's husband. He felt the simmering anger double into rage at the thought of Liz and her broken, grief-filled expression before she had left. That hadn't been faked. That couldn't have been faked, no matter how good she was. That had been a woman mourning the loss of the man she loved, but there that same man stood in Ressler's apartment, ordering pizza and drinking his beer like they were buddies. He was quickly bypassing rage and he needed answers right then or he was going to really kill the arrogant bastard. "You better give a damn good explanation as to why Liz thinks you're dead, pal."

He watched the dark haired man's amusement fade entirely, replaced by something that might have been guilt. "You might want to grab the stuff from the hall," he said, motioning beyond him to where the takeout and travel bag were halfway visible. "It's not a short story."

Ressler nodded, finally holstering his weapon and moving to grab his things and close the door. He watched Tom circled back around to the couch and he took a heavy seat on it, popping the cap off the beer and reaching for a slice of pizza. It looked like it was from Ressler's usual place and he wondered if he should check his bill. He took a seat across from Tom. "Okay. Let's hear it."

The other man took a long drink from the beer he had thieved from Ressler's fridge and when he set it down he started in. Ressler thought he had heard just about everything in his line of work, but as he listened to Tom talk about a body double that was good enough to fool Harold Cooper, an experimental drug - developed by the same Halcyon scientist that had cracked quantum computing - that had brought him back and kept him alive after they had all watched him flatline after the brutal stabbing, and the months and months in recovery that - if Ressler trusted his own instincts, which he did - didn't look like they were quite done yet. He saw the dark circles under Tom's eyes, the exhausted expression, and the way his hands shook ever so slightly as he reached for the drink again. He looked great for a dead man, but there was no doubt the last year and handful of months had left a lasting mark.

"I didn't know Liz was awake until a couple of months ago," he said, meeting Ressler's gaze. "Nez came to DC to make sure she knew I'm alive, but-"

"She was already gone," Ressler murmured. "Yeah, she just ghosted. No real warning, no goodbyes. We found found out through Reddington and got the impression the only reason she told him was to make sure he didn't follow. We all assumed she had Agnes with her…"

Tom shook his head. "Scottie got custody. In hindsight, probably to keep me distracted."

Ressler winced a little. "You two have some really screwed up parents."

"You're telling me."

"But," Ressler said slowly, drawing his attention, "can't knock the results. I mean… we all went to your funeral. We gave you a wake once Liz was awake…."

Tom smirked. "You say nice things about me, Ressler?"

The other man glared in response, refusing to be swayed from the serious conversation, even if it might have been easier to poke fun rather talk about what had happened to Liz. "She took it hard, so I guess we were really surprised when she left." He paused for a moment. "If you're here to find out where she went, I don't know."

"I do. She's in Alaska. Middle of nowhere."

Ressler reached for a slice of pizza. "Then what are you here for?"

Tom's gaze shifted away from Ressler's and he ran his hand along the top of his dark hair, causing it to stand on end and looking a little uncomfortable. "Help," he said at last, his dark blue eyes flickering to meet a lighter shade. "I need your help."

"Okay, but why me?" Ressler pressed. "You've got Halcyon-"

"Scottie and Howard lied to me about Liz being awake, by omission if nothing else."

"What about your team? Nez and Dumont?"

"I need eyes and ears there to make sure Agnes is safe."

That made sense. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with Tom leaving his and Liz's kid with a criminal like Nez Rowan, but that wasn't his call to make. It wasn't like she hadn't been with Reddington while Liz was unconscious. "What about Reddington then? I mean, you know he's gotta be itching to find Liz."

"No," Tom all but growled, immediately halting that line of questioning. "That's not an option."

"Okay, then even someone else out of the Task Force. Cooper or Samar or-"

"Listen, man, if you don't want to help just say so."

Ressler pushed a long breath out of his nose. "I just need a reason, Tom. You can't just showed up in my home after being dead for nearly a year and a half and expect me not to need answers."

Tom flashed him a grin. "Don't trust me?"

"No, not particularly."

The grin didn't fade. "Smart man." He tilted his head thoughtfully and the disingenuous expression eased a little. "I know who attacked Liz and me. Whose men put her in a coma and who just about murdered me."

Ressler leaned forward, elbows against his bent knees and Tom had his full attention. "You know who Damascus is?"

The covert operative blinked. "Damascus?"

"That's what Liz called him. It's the… the knife that he used on you. It was a Damascus knife."

He watched Tom's expression darken and he thought he saw a subtle grimace at that. "Right."

"Who is he?"

That pulled the other man's attention back around and his gaze was intense. "A cop."

Ressler straightened at that. "A cop tried to kill you? Why?"

"Because he was after something that Reddington had. That's all I know."

The ginger nodded, leaning back in the chair again, but not not quite relaxing. "So you want my help with a dirty cop?"

"I want your help getting to Liz so that we can all go after a dirty cop. I figured if anyone would be willing it'd be you… with your dad and all."

Ressler shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping him. "Hell, man."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

His lips thinned out, not quite quirking up. This was something Liz needed to know. Not just that Tom was alive, but a direction that they could go to find healing from everything that happened. Finally he loosed a long breath, meeting Tom's gaze. "Well, I've got a couple of days off. Let's go find Liz."

They said that patience was a virtue, and while Solomon had never claimed to be overly virtuous, it did appear that it had paid off for him this time. He'd played his part of the Nash Syndicate and their supply lines that had been tossed into the air were coming back around. He'd spoken once with the supplier out of Iraq, but it had taken nearly three months to get to Garvey. It wasn't his only in, but it had been his best bet, and the one that he was most pleased had worked out.

He stood with Li Zhao on the docks, the ever present art of waiting something he was coming to master. The sun was high overhead and everyone but her people had been cleared out, and even they were a skeleton crew. It wasn't surprising that Garvey didn't want curious eyes on him.

"He does not like to meet in person," Zhao said in her native language.

"So you've said."

She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully before motioning to the car that was making its way towards them. The driver pulled up, but made no move to get out.

Solomon glanced at her once before starting forward and he heard the locks come undone as he approached the passenger door. He reached out for the handle, but the back door opened and a man unfolded from it, waving at him to step back.

He did so, standing remarkably still as the other man's hands roamed up and down to check for weapons and pulled his gun from its holster. Solomon offered him a wink that made him take a step back before he reached back out to the door.

The man that had frisked him didn't follow, but as Solomon slipped in he did, thankfully, find Ian Garvey in the driver's seat. "It's good to finally meet you. I'm-"

"I know who Zhao says that you are," Garvey cut him off. "The man that corrected our supply lines. I also know who you've been, Mr Solomon."

Solomon let his gaze sweep over the heavyset man for a moment. His hands hadn't left the steering wheel and he could see that the vehicle was still in gear. He'd walked right into a set up.

"Let's go for a drive, shall we?"

"Why not," the newly captured man managed, keeping his voice smooth and even even as the locks shifted back into place.

She was furious, that much he knew. It would have been a difficult thing to miss with the way she was shouting at him, all of her cool demeanour put away for the red hot rage that he'd rarely seen her put on display quite so openly. Howard Hargrave stood where he was, amused, and that only seemed to fuel the flames. "You think this is funny?" his wife asked dangerously. "You knew, didn't you? You knew he was going and you let him. What? To get back at me for bringing Agnes, because you thought it was a power play? This is his life, Howard, and-"

"Breathe." Scottie looked ready to hit him and Howard had to shake off the uncomfortable realization that he had never quite gotten over her magnetic draw, even now. He held his hands up, palms outward, and waited until he was relatively sure she wouldn't try to break his nose if he stepped closer. "No, I didn't know he was going, but it shouldn't be a surprise to either of us. My guess is that Agnes tipped him off." He shot her a knowing look and watched her expression seal off. "We can play the blame game all day long, but that won't protect him. He knows Liz is awake and there wouldn't have been any stopping him anyway. All we can do now is provide him the back up that he'll need."

He watched Scottie stop her pacing, but this time her expression fell and he knew that she saw it too. They were both damn good at setting the game the way they wanted to play it, but sometimes they were dealt a bad hand. That didn't immediately mean a loss, just a set back, and they had to think quick, and as much as he hated it, it meant that they had to make sure they were moving with a united front. He didn't trust her and she didn't trust him, but they had to find a way forward for their son's sake.

Scottie sank into a chair, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Nez and Dumont would have been his only contacts able to help him and they're still at the base."

"Likely to keep an eye on his daughter."

Dark eyes flickered to look at him. "Do you think he thinks we'd hurt her?"

"I don't know what he thinks, Scottie. He probably doesn't know what he thinks. All he knows for sure is that we've been lying to him."

She set her jaw. "They want to help him in any way that they can. To get them to help us we need to enable them to do that."

There she was with that clever, quick mind that he knew so well. "I agree."

"Opening up full Halcyon resources requires us to at least take it to the Grey Matters level and that will open it up to any security leaks that we may have."

"I had Dumont do a full security overhaul right before you came back in."

"I've noticed. A second wouldn't be out of the question."

"Hmm," he agreed, nodding with the sound.

"Howard." Her voice drew his full attention. "We have to approach this together."

He saw the look he was giving him and he held it for a long moment, letting her words batter around in his mind for a moment and running through possible responses. He didn't have a chance to voice any of them, though, as he saw Scottie's gaze flicker behind him and he turned to find Nez standing there.

"I'm aware that you probably have a few things to say about the thing with Tom-"

"We were just discussing that," Scottie cut in. "We understand that-"

"I'm sorry, but this can't wait."

Howard straightened. "What's happened?"

"Solomon set off his distress signal."

Tom filled Ressler in on Garvey as the other man unpacked and re-packed his bag for the flight that had already been scheduled. They would fly from D.C. to Seattle, Seattle to Juneau, and from there, as long as they hadn't been followed, they'd make arrangements to get down to the little town in the middle of nowhere that Liz had hidden herself away in. It was a simple enough plan, and Tom was happily surprised that their resident Boy Scout didn't fight him on it once he laid everything out. He did, however, side-eye him on the falsified documents that Tom handed over to the TSA agent along with a charming smile and a compliment about her hair. She didn't look awake enough for the five AM flight to react as she scanned his ticket and sent him through.

"Not sure what you expected," Tom said as he slipped his feet back into his boots and threaded his belt through the loops on his jeans, finally clear of the security. "I mean, I'm guessing that a death certificate might raise a few red flags in an airport."

"You've got a few of those going now, don't you?" Ressler asked as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

Tom tilted his head a little. "One under my birth name, pretty sure that someone probably added one to the name I was raised under…. they thought I was dead a few years ago after Liz shot me, but there was never any official documents for that."

"Could be because it was a fake name," Ressler said pointedly.

Dark blue eyes flickered down either direction of the terminal. "It's the one I like best."

He heard the other man snort, but if he had planned to push the subject the thought was cut short as his cell phone began to buzz. Tom watched the ginger agent fish it out of his pocket, glare at the caller ID like he might hit the reject button, but then thought better of it. "Sorry," he mumbled, and pulled the phone up to his ear. "Now's not a good time."

Ressler put a few steps between them as they walked towards their gate, but there wasn't anywhere to take a private call in the airport that they were sharing with business men and women trying to catch flights early enough to make it to meetings all over the country. Tom kept his gaze fixed ahead, but his focus was on what he could hear.

"That's not possible. I'm leaving DC this morning." There was a pause and Tom could hear the agitation in the other man's voice as he all but growled out his response to whatever had been said. "I'm not your gopher."

That was interesting. It certainly wasn't Cooper on the other end of the line. Ressler had a nauseating respect for the chain of command. Reddington, maybe? Tom hoped not. The Concierge of Crime may have been in his rebuilding phase when Garvey had attacked, but he would have spent the last year and some months strengthening that. Even being out and about risked one of Reddington's little spies spotting him. The best thing he had going for him right then was that there was no reason to look for a dead man.

"I'm well aware of the arrangement," Ressler bit out. "You've made it abundantly clear. I'll be in touch when I get back." He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Was that Reddington still giving you hell?"

There was a beat of confusion before Ressler nodded. "Yeah."

Interesting. Not Reddington, then. not that a whole lot of other scenarios made sense. "Everything okay?" he ventured carefully.

"Listen, Keen, let's keep our focus where it needs to be," he snapped.

Tom raised a hand, signalling his concession and Ressler's expression eased a little, his shoulders dropping a little. "He can just be a real bastard sometimes."

Their flight was called over the overhead and Tom readjusted his bag on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what Ressler had gotten himself into, but the man was right. They needed to focus. First they needed to find Liz and everything else was secondary. It would come though. It had to.

It had been over an hour since Garvey had said a word. The further they went out of the city, the lower his chances of surviving this were dropping, and Solomon wasn't ready to die yet. He'd set his beacon off at the first opportunity, begrudgingly thankful that Scottie and Nez had double-teamed him to push the option on him. This should have gone off without a hitch. He did well to fly under the radar at all times, and precious few people really could recognize him on sight. There was something else going on. Something he hadn't pieced together yet.

Dark eyes glanced at the driver. "Tell me, exactly what is it that you think you know about me?"

Garvey loosed a low, throaty chuckle. "Your reputation precedes you, Mr Solomon."

"It really doesn't. Not where I don't want it to."

"You were a CIA asset for some years running in Africa until they disavowed you. From there you were a free agent, shifted allegiances to the so-called Cabal, and then eventually to Scottie Hargrave when she ran her husband out of Halcyon Aegis."

The landscape sped by. "And now I'm working for Li Zhao. I fail to see the problem."

"The problem is that Scottie Hargrave has been publicly reinstated as the co-head of Halcyon and I have to wonder what an intelligence firm is doing sending in an operative into the Nash Syndicate to find me."

"I don't do this work for the kicks, I do it for the cash. Working for Scottie Hargrave isn't nearly as lucrative as it once was now that Howard holds half of the purse strings."

"I don't believe you."

The car they were in pulled around, stopping off the beaten path. There was nothing around them save the car that had driven with them. It pulled up behind them and Solomon saw a burly redhead step out, ready for a fight. The others that flanked him were visibly armed. "Get out," Garvey instructed.

"And if I don't?"

"Then I have to get the car detailed to remove what's left of you," he said, waving his gun at the younger man.

Solomon snorted, a lazy smile tilting his lips as he did what he was told. He'd been watching terrain on the drive in. They had wound their way up a hill, the drop now on the opposites side of the car. Garvey was getting out, his gun in his hand, and the red headed giant and his thugs came around. "And who might you be?"

He recognized him now that he saw him face on. He'd been in the files linked to Keen's supposed death. Bobby Navarro. He was tightly bound to the Syndicate, and while the cops had interviewed him after the attack, nothing had stuck. Shocking, considering he had a US Marshall on his side.

The man on Navarro's left rushed Solomon first, coming around and telegraphing his movements. Solomon only had to make minor adjustment to his stance to avoid the swing, ducking down and around, using his bob and momentum to swing up and he slammed the heel of his hand into the man's jaw, ripping his head to the side and sending him reeling.

The second was on him in an instant, but Solomon squatted down, half avoiding a blow and half going for the knife hidden away under his pants leg. He swung out, the blade skidding across the surprised man's throat and leaving a line of red in its wake as he kicked out, slamming him hard into the car.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, ready to take on whoever it was that was fool enough to come at him next, but the shot rang out. Solomon felt the telltale sign of a bullet burning through flesh. It didn't hurt, not at first, but then slowly the pain started to catch up with the shock. He staggered, the knife slipping from his fingers and he reached out to catch himself on the side of the sedan, his other hand going to the source of the slowly realized pain.

Garvey leveled his gun. "I think it's time we had a talk, Matias."

Notes: Well I had a less that pleasant reaction to the finale. I had such mixed emotions about seeing Tom again. If they were going to make us relive his death all over again, I feel like the least they could have done was given us a goodbye kiss between them. I really think it boils down to just never being okay with them killing him, and wow... I had to do some scrambling on this story. It was both a blessing and curse to be writing as far ahead as I've been writing because I had to really readjust for Liz's reaction to finding out Red's secret. I had just finished writing the big Keen2 reunion chapter when the finale aired and had to do some serious thinking about how I was going to adjust the story and how the Keens were approaching this. I think I've got it all evened out now, though, so that's the good news.

Even better news: Tessler. XD I've had so much fun working with these two nerds again and being able to make AU gif sets for them over on Tumblr. I hope you guys are enjoying to the ride as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Much more to come!

Next Time: Tom and Ressler make it to Alaska and search for Liz and an injured Solomon uncovers a terrifying truth about Ian Garvey's loyalties.

Chapter Text

Sharing tight spaces with Donald Ressler was never going to be Tom's favourite choice, but somehow they had made it through two flights without killing each other. It was the last one that had gotten to them. The two tall men shoved in the back of the little single engine plane with their bags, and the flight around to the outer edges of the outgoing winter storm to avoid the rougher weather had extended their rough time in the air. Exhaustion was finally creeping up on Tom to the point that he couldn't ignore it any longer. By the time that they landed in the next town over from the one that Liz's alias had been pinged at, he had some difficult unfolding himself from the back of the plane and onto the icy excuse for a runway. He managed to get his boots under him and straightened as his watch chirped a warning. One quick glance towards Ressler showed that the other man was talking to their pilot about the best way to get to where they were going. Tom popped the scheduled pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry before the ginger agent turned back towards him. Any hope of good news washed away with Ressler's equally irked expression.

"Okay, he says that while they do have a place that would be willing to rent us a car to drive to the next town over, there's been some sort of high demand for vehicles and he's not sure if they have anything left."

"In the middle of nowhere?" Tom asked, doing his best to force the tiredness from his voice, but if the look Ressler gave him was anything to go by he hadn't missed it.

"He didn't know exactly what happened. All he would say was that there were a 'bunch' of federal agents through."

Tom stiffened at that, his gaze moving to hold Ressler's. "Feds?"

"That's what he said. I could check into why, but we'll run up against the same problem we had with calling Cooper before we left."

"Right," he murmured, starting for the old building that supposedly housed their best chance at making it to the next town by nightfall.

"Tom," Ressler shouted after him.

"It's fine. I'll handle the rental." Ressler didn't look convinced, but at the moment he didn't care. Everyone had a price. Everyone.

He had a limited amount of cash in his go-bag and replacing that wasn't as easy as it might have been any other time, but they were on the clock. They had no way to know for sure until they got there if Garvey had sent a team of feds after Liz when he had received word that she had skipped town, but Tom didn't believe in coincidence. He couldn't risk it. The airport employee's truck cost a hell of a lot more than a rental ever would have, but they had keys, a full tank of gas, and a GPS that stuck to the window. They had a way to Liz.

Ressler eyed him suspiciously as he drove up and he hesitated at the door. "I swear, Keen, if you stole the vehicle…."

"Because you never have?" Tom groused. Funny how feds always thought that a badge or lack thereof somehow made the exact same action acceptable or not. "Get in. It's not stolen."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow at that, not looking convinced, but he finally tossed his bag in and jumped in the passenger seat.

The old truck gave a roar of protest as Tom kicked it into gear, the GPS already set, and his gaze fixed on the road in front of them. The weather had turned colder earlier than usual, the chatty owner of the truck had told him. There'd been a bad ice storm that had moved through and would have left their path a bit slicker than it might have been otherwise. If they could make it there by the time the sun set, they should be fine.

"Your watch is beeping at you again," Ressler said, pulling Tom out of his thoughts. "You need me to grab one of those bottles from the pharmacy you're carrying with you in your bag?"

Thin lips twitches downward. "No, it's fine. I took what I needed to. It'll just take my system a few to balance out with it."

There was a stretch of silence from the other man so loud that Tom could almost hear the questions he was sorting through and deciding between. "Listen, I know that you want to get to Liz. I get that, and I get that sometimes people don't…. bounce back from major injuries."

"You planning on getting to the point before we get there?" Tom growled.

That seemed to snap Ressler out of any delusion that he needed to tiptoe around the subject. "We're going in blind and I need to know you're good for this."

It was a fair question, even if he hated it. He had held up against Nez and in his own training. He tired out easier than he used to and his hands still shook at the worst of times, but adrenaline did wonders in the middle of a fight. "Yeah."

"Tom."

"I said yes," he snapped. "Liz is in trouble. I'm good for this."

He heard Ressler loose a breath from the seat next to him, but if he had any more arguments he didn't voice them and Tom certainly wasn't going to offer anything further. His wife needed him, and that was the only thing that mattered. Everything else was secondary.

He was half pushed into the waiting chair, the pain working its way through his whole body and Solomon saw dark spots dance across his vision. He tilted his head back, a rough laugh escaping him. "Whatever you think you're getting from me, you're not," he chuckled.

Garvey didn't respond immediately and Solomon sat up a little straighter to get a better view. He regretted it instantly as the larger man wheeled around, his fist slamming into his middle close enough to the bullet wound that it left Solomon gasping. "I disagree," Garvey said easily. "Now, easy or hard is your choice, but you will tell me what Halcyon Aegis wants with the syndicate."

"You'll have to ask them," Solomon managed, the words riding out in struggled breaths. "I don't work for Halcyon anymore."

He must have blacked out with the next blow because when the darkness faded from his vision Garvey had pulled a chair up and was leaning against his own knees. "You don't get to lie to me, Mr Solomon, no matter how good you are."

"Your lady Zhao hired me," he managed, "to fix the problem in your supply line…. and this is the thanks I get?" Part of him wondered if anyone was coming for him. He'd set off his tracker hours ago, and by this point he would have thought something could have been mobilized. Maybe this was just what he got for wanting to go at this alone.

Garvey tilted his head a little. "That's what gave you away. You should mix things up a little, Matias. You pulled the exact same stunt in Juarez."

He hadn't realized he was fading again until that moment when he was jerked painfully back by the words. "What did you just say?" No one knew that.

The dirty fed smirked a little at his gaping expression. "Now, I'll ask you again: what does Halcyon Aegis want with the syndicate?"

Movement behind him caught Solomon's attention and a new lackie he hadn't seen yet half-jogged in. The man barely paused to be acknowledged, nervous energy pushing him forward and he handed Garvey a cell phone. The heavyset man frowned, but took the call, circling around out of Solomon's line of sight.

He let his dark gaze flicker up and hold on the nervous little peon that had delivered the phone. Something was happening. Even through the pain and the blood loss he could tell something was happening.

All at once the sound of gunfire filled the air and before he could dive for cover the peon had a hole in his head. He was dead before he hit the ground and the shooter moved into view. Solomon felt his lips twitch upward. "Took your time," he managed.

"And you said you wouldn't need any help," Nez said, moving towards him.

"Garvey-"

"We know. He slipped out the back. We'll get him. Hell, Mattie." He grimaced as she tugged the bottom of his shirt up, trying to get a better look at the damage done. The material pulled against where the blood had dried it to his skin and he let out a small sound and she froze where she was. "Help's on its way."

"Nez," he managed, suddenly feeling the exhaustion pulling at him. "He's-"

"Shut up for half a second, would you."

He caught her hand, drawing her attention and forcing himself to focus through the pain. "Nez, this can't wait."

The town shut down at a certain time of night, making it next to impossible to find any useful information when Tom and Ressler had arrived. As much as he had hated it, as much as he had wanted to do something - anything - to find his wife, it was probably just as well. Tom was entirely spent by the time they got the keys to the motel rooms and he hadn't argued Ressler's proposition of a night's sleep to get started bright and early.

Bright and early had, thankfully, actually meant the same thing to both men. It hadn't taken long to uncover what was apparently the biggest news in years for the little town. The feds were there after multiple homicides had been discovered at a house just a few miles outside of town. The moment Liz's alias was dropped they were on their way.

"Let me do the talking," Ressler said as they pulled the truck to a stop. "Maybe it'll help keep the felonies to a minimum."

Tom shrugged, piling out of the vehicles and onto the muddy grass. His boots sank in and his eyes focused in on the crime scene tape and the cops that were crawling all over the property. No one seemed to know yet exactly where Grace Talbot stood in all of this. If she was a witness, a suspect, or if she was…. no. She was alive. She had to be.

"Special Agent Donald Ressler, out of DC. What do we have here?" Ressler asked, flashing his badge and immediately drawing attention to himself.

"We weren't told they were sending someone in from DC.," one of the local cops managed, looking a little overwhelmed where he stood.

"That's fine," Tom said with a charming smile. "If you'll just put us in touch with the lead agent we'll-"

"But FBI agents are in town talking to witnesses."

"Then I'm sure you won't mind if my partner and I have quick look around, get filled in while we wait?" Tom waited a beat, seeing the hesitation and silently begging Ressler to keep his mouth shut and trust him. "I mean, we can get our boss on the phone. I'm sure AD Cooper would-"

"No, no, that's fine," the local officer managed, looking even more nervous than before as he took his hat from his head to fiddle with it. "I'll just take you up the way, get you to the scene."

"That'd be great, thanks."

Ressler reached out and tugged his jacket a little as he started forward, pulling him so that they were several steps behind. "You could have blown everything just then."

"No I couldn't have. I knew they were gone. Didn't you see the feds down at the coffee shop this morning? They won't be back here for hours."

He watched Ressler's expression shift. It wasn't that it eased, not at all, but perhaps it was at least a little less fuming. He shook his head and huffed. "Deputy Director Cooper."

"Huh?"

"You called him AD Cooper. He got a promotion while you were dead."

"Seriously? That's great. They don't know the difference."

"What happened to you letting me do the talking?"

"You weren't getting anywhere."

"You're not great at patience, are you?"

"I've been patient," Tom answered, the amusement gone from his voice. "For over a year I've been patient. I'm done with it. Nothing gets done when I'm too patient." He didn't wait, hastening his stride so that he was closer in to the cop.

"I didn't catch your name, Agent -"

"Phelps," Tom tossed out and he could feel Ressler seething behind him. He'd live, and if the name got back to Liz maybe, just maybe, she'd catch it.

They made their way up to the house and the officer started in on his explanation of what they knew, which wasn't much. There were multiple deaths, most of which had been dealt out with brutal accuracy. They passed by a man with an axe in his chest, another whose corpse was so badly burned that they were unrecognizable. Apparently there was another one from the cellar in a similar state.

"So you're saying that you think this Grace Talbot did this?" Ressler asked, and it was hard to miss the disbelief in his voice.

"Well, the agents out of Juneau seemed to think that they-" he pointed towards the mangled corpses - "killed Colin." At the curious looks he shook his head. "Colin Knox, one of our rangers. He was found dead too, long with a dog."

"And no sign of Ms Talbot?" Tom asked, nudging the conversation back around.

"Not since she dropped that federal witness off at the hospital. Ask me, I figure she's long gone. She's running from something. People that know how to do stuff like that are always running from something."

Tom's snarky retort died on his tongue as they entered the house and he could smell the faintest hint of bleach. He let his gaze drift over the cabin. It was tidy and clean, save the dead man that looked like he'd been poisoned on the living room floor. "You run her prints or her DNA yet?"

"Can't."

"What do you mean by that?" Ressler asked.

"There's nothing to run."

"That's impossible."

The local shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, sir. Your people think she's had some sort of training…. Like trained to clean a crime scene kind of training. It's crazy, but forensics can't find a damn thing."

Tom pursed his lips together to keep the proud little smile from showing too much as he made his way through, everything that the cop had said ringing true. Liz had scrubbed the place clean enough to make the ghost of Kate Kaplan proud of her.

"Nobody really knew her," he continued. "I mean, Colin tried. Had a thing for her, but never pushed it. She wore a wedding ring, but there wasn't a husband as far as any of us could tell. Maybe split or-"

"Dead," Tom murmured as he crouched to check a corner that she might have missed. Nope. She'd been thorough.

"Yeah, could be. She always seemed like she was kind of mourning somebody. Grace liked to keep to herself."

"Thanks, we'll take a look and catch you if we have any questions," Ressler prompted. It took a moment, but the man finally nodded, leaving them alone to discuss. When Ressler turned back he looked a little sick. "I have a hard time believing Liz is capable of-"

Tom shrugged. "Right circumstances anyone's capable of anything."

"This doesn't bother you?"

"Smells a little." Ressler didn't seem to think that was funny. "Listen, man. You've seen stuff this bad, right?"

"This is Liz we're talking about."

"And these guys attacked her."

"You sound really sure about that."

"Aren't you?" Tom tilted his head, looking out across the room. "I know Liz pretty well. The good, the bad, and everything in between. She's a good person at heart, but if you threaten her she'll make sure you don't get a chance to do it again. My guess is that they came in, tried to rob her or something… maybe even had something to do with that witness they mentioned. Whatever the case, they thought a single woman in the woods was going to be an easy target. Sucks to be them, but I'd rather see them charred than her."

"So where do you think she's gone now?"

Tom loosed a long breath. "I don't know. I mean, we could talk to the witness, but she scrubbed this place down. She won't have let anything slip to him,"

"Okay," Ressler murmured, glancing back towards the door. "Let's get out of here. We'll regroup, catch a flight back to DC, and get you to the Post Office. We'll find her."

"Yeah."

Ressler reached out, a hesitant hand on the dark haired man's shoulder. "We'll find her, Tom."

Dark blue eyes flickered to meet a lighter shade and he tried for for a nod. "Yeah," he echoed again, his voice strained with the understanding that they'd hit another dead, even after everything they'd done to get there.

"It was risky bringing him here."

Scottie glanced over at Howard. His footsteps had been silent as he approached and she offered a small shrug. "Everything we do now is risky. Everything we've ever done is risky. Has Dumont finished the sweep?"

"Almost," her husband answered and motioned to the seat next to her. "May I?"

She nodded, the movement feeling stiff. It had been a last minute decision to bring a badly injured Matias Solomon to Halcyon's leading medical facility rather than taking him to the bunker, which would have been more secure prior to the full sweep that was being done. The emergency staff would have needed to be flown in though, and that would have taken time that they didn't have. Howard had left the decision to Scottie and she had made it. She couldn't regret that now.

"Have you spoken to Nez?"

Scottie looked over, startled out of her own thoughts. "Briefly, just to get the details of the rescue. I don't think she's very interested in speaking with me these days."

"You know how she is with trust."

"She gives you a lot of leeway."

Howard shrugged. "She knows I won't leave her out to dry."

"Neither would I." Scottie pulled in a steadying breath. It wasn't a surprise that Nez tended more towards Howard than she did her. Howard had gotten her clean and Howard had given her the job that had kept her that way. In her eyes, Howard had saved her. Scottie had just been the one to step in and the loyalties had been based on the relationship that Nez thought they had.

"Did they…. Nez and Solomon?"

Dark brown eyes blinked owlishly for a moment. "No, not to my knowledge. They were close. She was the one that stayed with him after Frankfurt."

"Tom shot him, didn't he?"

"Yes."

There was a beat of silence. "I know how fond you are of him, Scottie. He'll be alright."

"I know." She tried for a smile. He was comforting her, or at the very least he was trying. It was sweet. Scottie reached out and while he flinched a little, he didn't pull his hand from hers. They sat there for a long moment, neither of them talking, and she tried to steady herself. "You checked on Agnes, didn't you?"

"She's with Candy. We trusted that woman to watch our own son when he was that age, I think we can trust her with our granddaughter for a few hours."

"We should bring her here. She should be with us."

"A waiting room is no place for a three-year-old. She's fine." To her surprise, Howard tightened his grip on her hand. "Scottie, what's gotten into you? You're spiralling. I haven't seen you do that in… years."

She blinked hard and looked at him. "It's the Cabal."

Howard looked a little startled at that. "What do you mean?"

"Garvey. He works with or for or…. is somehow linked to the Cabal."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because Garvey knew about an op he ran that no one outside of the organization should know about," Nez said, making her way over to them. "Before he passed out in the helicopter Solomon told me Garvey knew about an operation that he ran in Juarez for the Cabal. It had been sealed up so tight that no one outside of the organization knew about it.."

"I did an extensive investigation into his background before hiring him and I didn't come across it," Scottie volunteered.

"Then this is deeper than a man just after Red for a power play," Howard murmured softly and Scottie could see that clever mind turning over possibilities, searching out the best ones. "Tom needs support in the field."

"Agreed. As soon Dumont is finished with the sweep I want him there with him for technical support. Nez-"

"I'll gear up," she said tightly.

"After Matias is out of surgery. You said that Tom's with someone?"

"Donald Ressler."

"Then he does have support for now. I'll make the call. Howard?" She waited until he looked towards her. "I think it's time you called Katarina."

He blinked and she saw the signs of a lie forming on his lips before it was swallowed back up. A rough chuckle left him. "She went to you too. She's your source," he said, shaking his head like he should have known.

"She's on our side. Not yours, not mine, ours. She's been talking about something coming."

"The Cabal is certainly something. I'll call her. Tell Tom to watch his back."

"I will," she offered with a strained smile, pulling her cell from her folded jacket pocket.

"Scottie, if you need me to go now-"

"No. Let's see where we are and what support he needs. If he's found Liz or if he's still looking will change things up." She waited until Nez nodded before standing and moving towards a more private corner of the otherwise empty waiting room.

Thin lips pressed together and she tapped in the number of the secured phone Dumont had sent with him, and closed her eyes as it range. Once, twice, three times. Finally it rolled over to an automated voicemail. "Tom, it's me. I understand that you're angry and that it doesn't matter how many reasons I give you for our actions, but none of that matters as much as yours and…. Liz's safety now. We received some intel about Garvey. I need you to call me back when you get this. Howard and I have decided to give you the full support of Halcyon. If you have to fight this war, you'll have what you need to fight it. And Tom…. I love you." She ended the call and all Scottie could do was pray Tom listened. All of their lives depended on being united now.

Notes: On whole, I'm not a big fan of straight up AU's, but more of canon divergent plots. There are a couple of things that needed to change/did change from canon that weren't necessarily affected by Tom's survival. The first was how I handled Halcyon and Howard's betrayal. I hated the way that they approached it in the show, so I went a bit of a different route. I suppose you could say that that was actually the point of divergence from canon: the fact that Howard wasn't incarcerated. Garvey's a bit of a different story though. I decided well before Jennifer showed up in canon that Garvey was going to be linked to the Cabal and that was going to be a driving force for him, and as the show aired and we (sort of? I mean, I think we're supposed to assume it's a bit like Red and choosing to do it to protect Jennifer like Red started his criminal empire to protect Liz?) found out why he turned to a life of crime I decided I wanted to stick with the original plan. I just found it more interesting than what canon provided as a reasoning. Hopefully you'll agree, but I'm really excited to get to this point in the chapters posted and head down this road. There are a lot more twists and turns to come :D

Next Time: Tom tries for a little bit of honesty, Katarina follows up on a lead on the Cabal, and Henry Prescott has an other job for Ressler.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

Tom nearly ran into Ressler's back as the man slammed to a stop, the door not opening like it should have and neither of them having a great deal of energy to fight with a hotel key card that was already giving them a fit. It had been a long, long day. They'd finished up at the house before going back to the motel, grabbing their things, and leaving once they were certain they'd gotten as much information as they could without putting themselves on a short list of some kind. They'd returned the truck and caught a flight from there to Juneau and then another from Juneau to Seattle. That's where everything had come to a standstill. A storm rolled through, grounding flights, and finally the airlines had told them that the next flight would be, at the earliest, the next morning. The two men had grabbed what must have been the last available hotel room anywhere near the Sea-Tac Airport and just wanted a few hours' sleep before they were back to trying to get to the East Coast.

"You've got to put it in slow," Tom grumbled, feeling like he was trying to think through a fog. Everything hurt and his own hands were shaking so badly that he didn't think he could hold the card if Ressler asked him to. No, what he needed was to get in, pop back the pills he was supposed to have taken three hours before with the food he still hadn't eaten, and crash. Forget the shower. Forget everything. He just wanted sleep.

"I am putting it in slow," Ressler snapped at him. "You think you can do better?"

Tom snorted and leaned heavily against the wall, finally letting himself slide down it when the door beeped at Ressler again. "You put it next to your cell?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Tom smirked and Ressler nudged him hard with his foot. "You could make yourself useful and go downstairs and get a new one."

"Seriously, man? Just-" Then it made a sound like it had decided they were worthy and the door opened. "See? Slowly."

"I hate you."

The smirk didn't fade, but after a moment he found a hand in his face. He blinked, following it up to the arm that it was connected to and then eventually to Ressler himself. "What?"

"You seemed to be having some trouble getting up."

"The floor is surprisingly comfortable."

"You're usually a better liar than that."

Tom shot him an offended look, finally accepting the help up. "I'm not lying. It is. You wouldn't think so, but-"

Ressler hauled him up and nearly sent him pitching forward in the other direction. He managed to catch him though, his hand lingering against the younger man's shoulder and Tom watched his brows draw together a little. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The ginger agent shook his head, looking very much like he wanted to rattle off a list of reasons, but chose not to for both of their sakes. "You're warm. Fever warm."

Tom pulled back immediately and stepped through the open door, fishing out his buzzing phone as he did. He took one look at the name and then shoved it right back into his jeans pocket where he had taken it from. "I'm good."

"That thing's been ringing off the hook since this morning. Between it and your watch with all of its warnings this afternoon you couldn't sneak up on someone if you needed to."

"You're one to talk. Still going with the lie about Reddington blowing up your phone the last couple of days?" He knew his expression turned a little smug at the look Ressler shot him, but he didn't care. "C'mon, Ress. I read people for a living. You think that one was going to get by me?"

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Ress."

Tom rolled his eyes. "You know what, whatever. Keep your secret. I don't care. There's a bed with my name on it and I'm claiming it."

He'd been aiming for it when it felt like the floor shifted underneath him. Tom listed to one side, feeling it as it happened but not being able to stop it. He heard Ressler shout his name as he crumbled halfway against the bed and then the rest of the way to the floor, vertigo dropping him hard. He waited a moment, blinking hard to try to clear his vision, when Ressler dropped to crouch in front of him. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, just…. Yeah."

"Not the time to lie to me."

"I'm not. I'm…. just spent. Just need to pace myself."

Ressler seemed to turn the words over for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Food, meds, and sleep."

"Sounds like a plan."

He didn't fight Ressler as the other man helped him up off the floor and onto one of the twin beds. He sat there, feeling more than a little useless as his wife's partner moved around the room to grab a water bottle and a half-eaten sandwich from his own bag from earlier that day. Tom turned his nose up at the prospect and Ressler leveled a look that said he was beyond done with the day. "Fine. Listen, I'm not your babysitter, pal. You want to pass out, fine. Just don't hit your head on the way down and you sure as hell better be up and ready to go first thing in the morning."

The turn happened so fast that Tom had trouble following and Ressler grabbed a set of shorts and a t-shirt from his bag before disappearing into the bathroom and just a moment later Tom heard the shower kick on. He sighed, glaring at the excuse for a sandwich that Ressler had bought at the airport earlier that day and finally reached for it. It wasn't quite as bad as he expected and by the end of it he felt a little less like he'd lose the meds if he tried to take them now. He popped the pills back, chasing them down with water, and finally toed his boots off so that he could flop back on the bed. His phone rang again.

Tom dug it out of his pocket and pulled it up so he could see the number he already knew would be there. Scottie. He waited and the number disappeared. She hadn't left another voicemail since the first one, which he still hadn't been able to bring himself to listen to. So when a new voicemail alert popped up he sighed and put the phone to his ear.

Scottie's voice filtered through. He had expected thinly veiled threats and insinuations that he had abandoned his daughter. None of that was said. Agnes wasn't even mentioned. Instead he heard real fear in her voice that went above and beyond manipulation. He closed his eyes, the struggle brief, before he gave in and hit redial.

"Tom?"

"Yeah."

There was a long moment of pause. "I'm glad you called back. Are you okay?"

"Holding in there. When were you going to tell me my wife was awake?"

"Tom, sweetie, I understand why you think that's important right now-"

"My family's all that matters to me, Scottie, and you kept me away from her. You and Howard let her believe I was dead instead of finding a way to…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the stress down. "I get it. I get wanting to protect someone at all costs and that sometimes that…. Kills your judgement, but she's missing and I can't find her and if you'd just been honest with one or both of us then this wouldn't be happening."

"I was protecting you in the only way I knew how."

"And here we are."

"And here we are," she murmured softly from the other side of the country. "Tom, you have all of Halcyon's resources to find Liz."

"So you said on your message. Why?"

"Because this has escalated in ways even your father and I couldn't have predicted. You need to find her and you need to bring her here. Once you have I can tell you everything. We will tell you everything."

"Sounds an awful lot like you're hedging your bets now that you've lost your control."

"I don't trust the information over the phone, encrypted line or not." She paused. "Where are going going next? I'll send Nez and Dumont there. They can get you up to speed."

"I'm going wherever Liz is."

"I'll put a search on her through the Artax Networks."

"You don't trust the phone lines but you'll trust the Network?"

"It's ours. Completely and totally ours."

"Fine, you get me Liz's location and we'll talk."

"I'll be in touch." There was a pause, Scottie not hanging up where Tom thought she might. "Agnes misses you."

"I miss her," he admitted softly.

"You'll see her soon. All I ever wanted was to have you back, Tom, and I still want that, but I swear to you I will do whatever it takes to bring your family back together."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Call me when you find her." He ended the call then, leaning back against the pillow and hating every moment of the conflict clawing at him. Making deals with Scottie was dangerous, but not finding Liz was even more dangerous. While she was asleep the dangers that Reddington posed were still at a distance, but now…. Now those dangers were at her doorstep and she didn't even know to watch out for them.

A buzz drew his attention and he held the phone up in front of him, expecting a call back. The screen was blank and he sat up, looking over to the nightstand between the two beds. Ressler's phone sat there, forgotten and unguarded, and he glanced over to the door. The water was still running from the shower.

Tom reached over for the phone and the number was blocked. He frowned at it, turning it over between his long fingers like that might somehow give him an answer as to who was calling. He could answer. Ressler might never find out if he played his cards just right. He could -

The call ended and Tom tossed the phone over to the opposite bed. He could trust his wife's partner, that's what he could do. That's what he should do. Reddington, Scottie, Howard… they were all something else, but Tom needed people he could trust. Liz, Nez, Dumont… and now Ressler. The boy scout had grown on him over the years and he even respected the man these days, even if he might not admitted it openly. They'd saved each other's lives and they'd helped each other out. He was something like a friend, and as bad as Tom was at real, actual friendships, he knew that snooping through a friend's phone wasn't likely the best way to earn trust in return.

The water went quiet from the shower and a few minutes later Donald Ressler emerged looking a little more relaxed than he had when he went in. Tom was halfway through changing his t-shirt to sleep when the door opened and steam came pouring out. Ressler stopped, staring, and it took the other man a moment to realize that his gaze was fixed on the scars up and down his left side. Tom tugged the shirt down and offered a lopsided smile, pulling in a deep breath, not giving Ressler a chance to broach that particular topic. Not that the one he knew that he needed to talk about was any better. "Hey…. so, I suck at the trust thing. I can count the number of people I've trusted over the years that haven't tried to kill me on one hand."

"Which list does Liz make?" Ressler asked and Tom thought there was just a hint of amusement in his voice as he toweled off his pale hair. The younger man swallowed a jibe about it moving.

"If Liz had ever wanted me dead I would have been."

"Fair."

"I'm just saying-"

"I get it. We're both at the end of a long day."

He sounded like he was trying to cut the conversation short but Tom continued. "Scottie called."

"That's who's been blowing up your phone?"

"Yeah. She's going to look for Liz."

One fair eyebrow quirked upward. "And you trust her?"

"No, but there was something…. This thing was big when it started, but something about what she said makes me think it's bigger than even I knew."

"Ominous."

"Maybe. Maybe it's just Scottie getting into my head."

Ressler bent over his bed, eyeing the misplaced phone. "Did you answer this?"

"Thought about it, then thought better of it."

"Look at that. You are a smart man. Liz kept telling me and I kept waiting for some proof."

Tom shot him a look, but it wasn't as harsh as it could have been. "I've trusted you with a lot here, Ressler. Don't screw me on it, okay?"

He nodded. "I won't."

Dark blue eyes broke contact. "And if you need help with something-"

"What makes you think I need help?"

"Man, something's going on and you're in over your head. Whatever it is… I'm just saying you don't have to tackle it alone. You know Liz will be game and I'm right there with her on it."

Ressler gave a small, quirked smile and that looked like the realest one Tom thought he'd seen out of him. "One thing at a time, Keen. Let's find Liz."

"Yeah."

"And keep you on your feet."

"Meds are taken, disgusting sandwich eaten."

"Good. Night."

"You need to call whoever that is back?"

"He can wait. One thing at a time, and Liz is more important."

Tom nodded, pulling the covers back and slipping under them. Ressler killed the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

She had kept tabs on the Cabal over the years. Even with her supposed death there had been those much like Matias Solomon who had believed the whispered sightings of Katarina Rostova. It had required her to keep spies here and there, to listen to the whispers. They never lasted long, though, and that was the problem. Either they were caught and killed or she decided that she didn't trust them and put them six feet under herself. They never knew her name, but they gave her enough information about the Cabal that she was able to follow what was happening.

First had come Alan Fitch's death. For what he was, she hadn't hated him. She had even had a dinner or two with the man over the years. He had been intelligent, driven, and even vicious at times. The lengths he had gone to to secure his and the rest of the Cabal's plan were extraordinary, and if she hadn't found herself being targeted by some of those she might have even been impressed. In the end Fitch got what he deserved, from what her sources had told her.

Katarina had been in London when Masha had had to run from them. She had stayed where she was, silently cursing her ex-lover for the mess he had allowed into her daughter's life. He could have stayed away. He should have stayed away. So she had waited and watched and refused to add to the problem at hand by racing in. Peter Kotsiopulos had done everything he could to destroy Masha, but in the end he had unwittingly fitted his organization's neck against the chopping block. She had made the right call to stand down then and let it play out.

These were different times, though, and while she had always worked well from the shadows she found herself needing to make steps out towards the light to get done what needed to be done. The Cabal had taken a blow, it was true, but they had always been the type to rise up from the ashes.

After Kotsiopulos would have come a number of different possibilities to fill the void of leadership, but the call for his death would have come down from that person. Laurel Hitchin had been the most obvious choice, but that's where Katarina hit her dead end. The woman was dead. Slipped and hit her head, so the newspapers said, but even from print the scene screamed that it had been cleaned. More than that, it had fallen into the hands of a fixer. If she wanted information about Hitchin's untimely demise, she would need that fixer. He could lead her to the one who had given the order.

And so Katarina Rostova found herself a trail to follow and it had led her to a name she hadn't heard of before: Henry Prescott. He was a tall man, well groomed, and he wore his confidence like well tailored as his suit. That was fine. All she needed to do was find the appropriate thread to pull. There was always one loose at one end or the other.

He was stepping out of an apartment building that night, straightening his jacket and smoothing back his hair, having just closed a deal successfully if she were to make her prediction. She stepped out of the shadows to interrupt the moment of preening. "Mr Prescott."

He turned, those sharp grey-blue eyes on her and she smiled. "Excuse me?"

"No need. I have a business proposition for you."

"Many people do, but they go through the proper channels to hire me."

"I don't need to hire you, Henry. I just need a little information about the death of Laurel Hitchin."

"Assistant Secretary of State, right? It's been… a while. I read about her accident in the papers."

"You laid it out for the papers nicely, did you?" Katarina mused, tilting her head a little to the side and holding his gaze. "After you covered up her murder. Don't worry. I don't care who you bury, Henry, just who hired you to bury them. I'm willing to pay, of course-"

"My trade is dependent on secrets, Ms-?"

Katarina just smiled pleasantly.

"Right. If you think you're going to catch me on the street at eleven at night and bribe me into telling you something, you're delusional."

With that he turned, stalking away. Katarina didn't rush after him, didn't pressure. Not yet. Everyone had a price. She would just have to find his. The harder route made life interesting.

The trip felt like it took a hell of a lot longer than three days, but at least by the time they made their way back to DC they had enough information for a starting point. Scottie Hargrave had made good on her promise to Tom and had uncovered an uncomfortable amount of evidence on Liz's whereabouts that Ressler could only assume the Artax Network was responsible for. She was in back in DC and that meant that her husband had no interest in going to the Post Office to speak with the Task Force, not that Ressler was convinced that he had ever really meant to go. His team from his time working for Halcyon was on their way, but he remained stubbornly attached to the idea of keeping the Task Force in the dark for just a little while longer.

"You get why I'm not exactly jumping at the idea of reading everyone in, right?"

Ressler turned, finding the man in question leaned against the arm of his couch, not quite sitting on it. "We've covered the fact that you have trust issues, yeah."

Tom snorted, a little amusement making it into the sound. "You guys may work out of a black site, but it's not a black hole. We don't know how far Garvey's reach goes and that doesn't even mention the fact that it ups the chances of Reddington-"

"You still haven't told me why you're so against Reddington knowing you're alive. Last I knew you guys had more or less worked things out for Liz."

"You mean we'd stopped shooting at each other?" Tom smirked at that. "Reddington and I aren't ever going to see eye to eye and right now I know something he wants to keep a secret. He's already gone pretty far to do that."

"You think he'd try to hurt you?"

"Maybe." Tom seemed to think on that for a moment. "I don't know. Probably not, but I do think he'd keep me away from Liz to keep his secret."

Ressler let his gaze slide over, watching the dark haired man from the corner of his eye. "I get it, but you're asking me to keep a pretty big secret from my team."

"You'll manage. Looks like you've had some practice at secret keeping." There was something in his voice that caused Ressler to turn and Tom nodded to the table. "Phone's ringing again."

Ressler shot him an aggravated look before moving for the phone. Prescott. Again. He could only put him off so long. He glanced over to see Tom bend for the bag, the only clear signal that he wasn't staying any longer. He'd had a shower, swallowed some food and some pills, and he was on his way to find Liz. "Where're you going to start?"

"Home."

"You really think she'll go back to that place?"

Tom shrugged. "It's as good of a place as any." He stopped, halfway to the door. "Thanks. For everything."

The ginger agent frowned a little. "You know that I at least have to tell Cooper, right?"

There was a beat and Ressler thought he saw Tom blink hard, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fine."

Then he was gone, slipping out the front door and out, leaving Ressler alone with a ringing cell phone. He grimaced as he pulled the phone up to his ear. "What?"

"That's quite a greeting. What have I told you about answering when I call?" Prescott asked.

"I told you I'd be out of touch for a few days. What do you want?"

"Your services." Ressler snorted at that, but it didn't seem to deter the other man. "I'm texting you the address to meet. Don't put me off again or the truth comes out."

The call ended abruptly and Ressler heard the text ping through. Telling Cooper about Keen would have to wait. He'd pushed his luck with Prescott as far as he could this time.

Notes: I originally wrote this chapter before the season finale and when Ress asked Tom if he thought Red would hurt him his answer was immediately no, but he thought that he'd keep him from Liz. Now I feel like Tom sees Red as a threat and a danger rather than just the overbearing father in law. It really shifted how I need to approach Red in this story. I've about settled on not changing my ending for this, but getting there has taken a few turns since 5.22

I'd love to hear your thoughts on where this is going and any predictions you might have. A lot of different paths are crossing right now and things are getting crazy :D

Next Time: Tom leaves a coded note for Liz, Howard tries to ease Whitehall's concerns, and Nez and Solomon discuss the Cabal and what it means for them all.

Chapter Text

He had dreamt about this place. Sometimes they were memories, good and bad and often bleeding in one on top of the other. Other times the nightmares took on a life of their own to weave new horrors into the home that he and Liz had bought with the intention of raising their daughter in. Those nightmares had gotten a little better with Agnes' constant presence, but as much as he wanted to stay with his daughter he knew her mother needed him as much as their little girl needed both of them.

Part of him had hoped that coming here and seeing it again might restore some of the better memories he had attached to the apartment before the attack, but what he found wasn't the home they had made together. There were no photos that used to line the walls, no personal items that showed that a family had lived there. The toys had been put away or sent along with Agnes and it felt…. wrong. Tom's lips twitched downward as he surveyed the space. It was like a lived in crime scene. The couch had been moved to make way for the wall-turned-evidence-board and boxes of case files and assorted information were scattered across the living room floor where their coffee table used to be. His gaze fell on the bloodstained carpet that hadn't been removed and he felt his chest tighten just a little, memories creeping in. He could almost hear the sound of the men talking about how they'd finish the job, the way they'd set one of his records to play to drown out any noise that they made, and the feel of the knife sliding in between his ribs, the blood escaping through his fingers no matter how desperately he'd tried to stop the flow. He had to steady himself where he stood, purposefully dragging himself out of the flashback. Funny, he couldn't remember ever having a reaction like that when revisiting a sight where someone had tried to kill him before. It wasn't like this had been the first time.

Liz wasn't home, that much was evident as he walked through the apartment, weaving in and out of the scattered files and careful not to land a boot on any of them as he did. There were dishes in the sink, not quite piled, but if the trash can was anything to go by most of her food had come from styrofoam containers. The fridge was mostly empty and the few dishes she had used seemed to have come from a box set on the floor. It looked like she had boxed everything away that wasn't directly linked to the case. This wasn't a home, it was a work space to house her investigation out of.

He circled around, taking everything in. A glance into the bedroom showed signs that she used it, though the couch looked slept on too. He could almost see her falling asleep there, case files scattered around her and evidence in her hands. Almost all the decorations and photos had been stored away with the exception of one with her and Agnes that Tom remembered taking himself. They'd been out at the park, the late autumn air cutting in and they'd had their little girl bundled up to keep her warm. He had wanted a picture, though, of the two most important ladies in his life. He could still remember Liz rolling her eyes as he'd all but begged her for the photo and told her that he had decided, after everything that had happened with Scottie and Howard following his short stint at Halcyon, that he didn't want to miss a single moment with the family that they had made for themselves. He wanted the memories, the photos, and when they were old they would look back on them and have it all. She had shook her head, finally taking a seat on the park bench, and pressed her face next to their fussy daughter's as he snapped the shot. He hadn't wanted to miss anything.

But he had. He'd missed so much time and so many milestones. Tom reached for it, long fingers tracing across the two faces he missed the most, and there was something in Liz's eyes that pushed at the sense of urgency that was already present. Everything in that apartment said that she was driving herself towards revenge with little care of how she got there. She was alone and likely more than a little desperate. If she had put together that Reddington was connected yet was anyone's best guess, but it was a guarantee he hadn't offered up any more information than he had had to. Certainly nothing that would pull him out of her good graces. She had no idea what kind of danger that she could be in.

Tom pulled in a deep breath. She wasn't there then, but she would be. She was staying here, so she'd be back. He moved for her files and dug for a moment before finding what he needed. He latched onto the sticky notes and sharply, scribbling a message that she would know and a time and location to meet before looking around the room for the best place to leave it. He couldn't call, not without risking it all being intercepted, but this he could do.

Dark blue eyes scanned the organized mess before landing on a file that looked a little more worn than the others. He stuck the note to the front. If he knew Liz - and he did - she'd notice the subtle difference immediately.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out of his pocket, seeing Dumont's name flashing across. He clicked accept. "Hey."

"Tom-Tom, how was Alaska?"

"We were a few steps behind the whole way, so about like the last year and a half of my life."

"No dice then?"

"She's back in DC. I'm hoping to make contact tonight." Tom gave one more glance back at the apartment before turning to the door and walking through. "Whatcha got for me, Dumont?"

"How about a safe house to base out of?"

Thin lips stretched. "Sounds perfect, man. Nez there yet?"

"Nah. You heard Solomon got shot, right? She's sticking with him for a day or two more unless we call her in."

"No," Tom answered quickly. "I can't stand the man, but Nez…"

"Yeah, I think everybody but they know."

"We'll need her soon. No reason to pull her away yet. Shoot me the address and I'll grab lunch on the way over."

"What about that Chinese place you're always talking 'bout? Maybe your girl will call?"

A soft laugh escaped Tom as he rounded out of the building and into the street. "She'd have to know I'm alive first, buddy."

"Details details."

"Send the address. I'll grab Wing Yee's and head over."

"What's changed that has us meeting here?"

Howard looked to his left to see that the nervous scientist had no intention of drawing his gaze as his own was fixed on the hallway leading down one of Halcyon Aegis' headquarters' many corridors. He offered a charming smile nonetheless. "Situations evolve. I would have thought you preferred this to skulking around like we were wronging somebody."

"You and I know my research and what it can do… your wife is the problematic factor."

"We're not here to discuss Scottie, Richard."

Whitehall bristled. "She had me held against my will, Howard."

"I'll handle Scottie. Your focus needs to be your research. And my son. Speaking of?"

"The readouts have been surprisingly strong for what he's been through," Whitehall huffed. "Even I wouldn't have thought that he would have been capable of jumping into the field like this."

"Any adjustments that need to be made? Nez is going to his location in the next few days and I can send any additions with her."

"Mmm. I'll make a list. I'd like to see Mr Solomon."

"Why?"

"To run a few tests. He's reacting differently to the medications and I'd like to find out exactly what's causing it."

Howard pursed his lips together. There was something about his tone that didn't set well. "He's not a lab rat. What exactly are you looking for?"

"The man was in bad shape when you brought him in-"

"You've seen worse," Howard said pointedly.

A bit of amusement sparked in dark eyes. "You mean he wasn't dead like your boy? Put me in touch with Gramble. We'll get your man to his feet."

"Gramble says he's doing well. Let's take it easy on the experiments where they're not necessarily needed, hmm?"

Whitehall was looking at him now. "Our deal still holds, doesn't it, Howard?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Women have a way of getting into your head if you're not careful."

"I told you, Scottie's not a problem. I know that woman, Richard. Tom is the most important thing in her life. Has been since the day he was born." He slapped the other man on the shoulder. "Your inventions brought him back. They're speeding up Solomon's recovery. Just let me worry about everything else."

Whitehall didn't look convinced, but they had made it down the hall and to the elevator. "How's the new lab working out?"

"State of the art."

"And it's yours. Enjoy. I'll get you anything that you need with it. Scottie's not a problem for you to worry about."

He waited a long moment until Whitehall nodded, placated again for a little while longer. Howard knew Scottie made him nervous, but there wasn't much to help with that. He had them both or Howard was out and he would lose all funding. At this point he just needed to make sure he held him steady for long enough that he realized nothing was coming at him.

The elevator doors opened, allowing him in, and Howard rode the lift up to. The top floor that was often used as a conference room when they had very high end clients. With the private, DNA locked entrance, direct access to the helipad on the roof, and spectacular view of the city, only the best of the best were given that luxury. Currently it housed a special treasure.

"Grandpa!" Agnes cheered as the doors slid open.

Howard felt a smile tug at him as the little girl leapt from her place on the floor where she and her grandmother had been having what looked like a tea party to launch herself into his arms. He scooped her up, feeling her latch on. "You've been gone forever!"

"Not quite that long. Just had some business to discuss."

"What did Whitehall have to say?"

Howard's gaze shifted over to his wife who was seated with her legs folded half under her, dress pulled down just so, and gaze so focused that she might as well get staring through him. "He's fine. Loves the new lab."

"I'm sure he does," Scottie said carefully.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Agnes squirmed. "Have tea, Grandpa." She grabbed Howard's hand and led him over to the little party they had set up.

"Just that you're playing with fire."

"The man saved our son's life. Damn near saved Solomon's too-"

"Watch your language."

Blue eyes flickered to the seemingly oblivious little girl. "I'm just saying that by now he should have won you over."

"I've never questioned his talent. It's what it would be used for. Howard, if he ever chooses to leave Halcyon-"

"And go where? No one in the country will pay him more."

"Even Halcyon may not be able to compete with tyrannical governments."

"He's loyal, Scottie. And satisfied." A tea cup was pressed into his hands, saucer and all, and Howard dunked at her. "Trust me."

"Grandma, how do you like your tea?" Agnes cut in and Howard saw his wife soften as she reached out and touched their granddaughter's cheek.

"It's perfect, sweetie."

The little girl beamed and that was that. Work was put away for tea with Agnes Keen.

They were in a holding pattern on Garvey, each step even more careful than before after what had happened with Solomon's operation. It hadn't been his fault. Even Howard wasn't trying to stick the blame to him, not after hearing the full story.

The Cabal changed everything in the Hargraves' eyes. Nez had never had any direct contact with the group, but she'd heard stories. Late nights over bourbon with Mattie had loosened his tongue as much as it ever could and she had listened to the old ops he was willing to share with her from his time as the organization's enforcer. Tom had spoken about how they had chased Liz down, hunting her like a dog to get to her before he, her team, and Reddington had manage to out them publicly.

Nez could recall the press conference featuring a blonde woman from the White House. She hadn't known her by name, but she had found the idea of a Cabal interesting enough. Howard, at the time, had side eyed the the television like a man holding a grudge and told her not to count them out just yet. Now she knew this was exactly what he had meant, even if he might not have been able to predict the specifics.

A deep loathing for the Cabal seemed to be one of the few things he and Scottie shared, though Nez didn't know the details why. Something had happened there, just as it had with Solomon and just as it had with Tom. It seemed like Nez had been the one left without any direct effect from the shadow organization, at least until now.

"I don't need a babysitter, you know. I'm not Keen."

Nez's pale gaze flickered up from her file that she hadn't been reading, drawn by the tired voice coming from the bed. "I know," she said simply, looking back down.

She heard Solomon shift in the bed and could feel his steady gaze on her. It wasn't like he should be surprised, not really. She'd been the one sitting by his bedside the last time he'd been shot.

"Why are you here, Nez?"

She took a long moment, her eyes staring through the page in front of her rather than focusing on it. "If you don't want me here, Mattie, all you have to do is say so. I have plenty of other things I could be doing."

"Exactly. So why are you here?" He pulled himself so he was sitting up a little more and Nez had to swallow her protest.

Nez closed the file she hadn't been able to focus on and letting it rest in her lap. "Do you trust me, Mattie?"

"Asks the woman that just saved my life," he chuckled, but his expression slowly evened out. "Yes."

"Then I need you to tell me what we're up against with this Cabal. I know it's been a while since you worked for them, but Howard and Scottie lock down every time I've tried to get information."

Solomon snorted a laugh. "They do love their secrets."

"Mattie."

He looked over, his gaze darkening. "We're up against an unbeatable odds, Nez. The Marshals alone made Garvey just shy of untouchable, but if he's deeply linked with the Cabal, if he's useful to them, they'll protect him with their full power."

"Which is?"

She watched him shift, and if she didn't know better she would have thought he was uncomfortable. "Did you know that when I worked for them, not a damn thing would stick? Elizabeth Keen's little Task Force arrested me twice, but it never crossed my mind to worry on it because I knew after a few hours for show I'd be out again."

"We have that with Halcyon."

"Halcyon can't hold a candle. The Cabal answers to their leadership, made up of leaders in powerful positions from America and Russia. If they want to protect you, you're protected. If they want to toss you out of a plane thirty-six thousand feet in the air, there won't be anything left of you to argue it."

"That's specific," Nez murmured and watched him smirk. She waved it off. "You got away."

"Directly after they had taken a major blow. They had no need or want to go toe to toe with Halcyon."

"So what do you think has changed?"

"They've been quiet."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Dark eyes flickered up to meet hers. "Building power."

She had always been good at reading people. When she was young she had known what buttons needed to be pushed, what strings needed to be tugged to get what she wanted. Sam had taught her some of that, but she knew now that it was an inherited trait. She had carried it on through her rebellious teen years, learning to lift cell phones and the occasional wallet. She had fallen in with a crowd that appreciated her skills, and for a while she had too, and then her adopted father had gotten sick. Sam had fought like hell, and while he had beaten the first round of cancer the promise that she had made to him stuck: she would find a new direction. A new path. And she had, and she found out she was even better at that than she had been at grifting.

Part of her wondered what Sam would think of her now. He had known where she came from, who her father was. Tom had told her once that he had even known who he was, at least in the broadest of strokes. Sam had been very fond of her husband. Maybe he'd understand what needed to be done.

She steeled herself, the long hallway stretching out in front of her. Bobby Navarro was at the other end of it. The man that the cops had cut loose because they couldn't find anything that would stick. That was a load of crap and she knew it. She wasn't sure about Singleton yet. Good, bad, or just naïve, she didn't have enough to go on for sure, but the first or the last seemed to hold more potential. He couldn't get her what she needed though, and Reddington wouldn't. Navarro could, though. Navarro could lead her to Damascus, and Damascus had been the one that had killed Tom.

Liz felt her chest tighten, red hot anger boiling up inside of her as the scene plaid out. Again and again he'd stabbed him, blood everywhere and Tom's eyes wide with the pain he must have felt. Damascus had just stood there, the ease in which he had tortured her husband lighting a fire within her. She wouldn't let him get away with it. She couldn't. Vengeance might be a dark and dirty path, but it was the one that would help her find a way to be able to hold her daughter close again without utterly destroying her childhood further.

No, Liz needed this. She needed answers. And tonight she would get them. Navarro would be the one that would give them to her. If he wouldn't, she was willing to take them.

It was cliché for them, he knew, but he hadn't been able to resist. She might not even recognize the address until she reached it, but Tom had positioned himself just right so that he would see her face the moment she walked into Wing Yee's.

It felt right, after everything, and he could almost see it in his mind's eye. Her pace would slow almost to a stop outside the restaurant, her brilliant mind working at the puzzle in front of her. Maybe she would even hope against hope. She would wait a moment, Tom knew she would, playing scenarios over in her head and looking at that angles before her curiosity would get the better of her. She would burst through the door, a little eager, and he would be right in her line of sight.

That's where the possibilities diverged. She might run to him, letting him wrap his arms around her and pick her up off the ground, kissing her and promising her that he'd never leave her again.

Or she would blame him. Question him. It was a very real possibility, and he wished he could have said he was prepared for it, but every time he tried to come up with a response that might curb her anger long enough to let him explain he came up short. He'd been hurt. He'd been in recovery. He'd been… a fool. He'd been a fool to trust his parents. That was the truth of it and he wasn't sure knowing that did him a damn bit of good now.

The door opened and Tom looked up. A happy couple walked in draped over each other, laughing and taking a booth seat so that they could slide in together. He missed her. No matter how angry she was, even if she wanted to pummel him for his miscalculation, it was worth it. He just needed her.

But she didn't come. He sat there all night, and when the restaurant closed he sat on the curb outside, not quite able to bring himself to leave.

He wasn't sure how long it was before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He clicked accept after a quick look at the name. "Hey, Nez."

"I'm going to guess from that tone she didn't show?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Tom. Do you think….?"

He heaved a sigh. "Something must have come up."

"Sounds like a well rehearsed line."

He snorted, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Tell me you've got good news."

"I have news. Good or bad remains to be seen. I was able to uncover records of an interdepartmental task force that Garvey is a part of. Get this: their goal? Bring down the Nash Syndicate."

"Ironic."

"Isn't it? I'm sending over the members now. Odds are he's not the only dirty one."

"Not like I'm sleeping tonight anyway. I'll take a look." He stood, feeling the pull of muscles left idle too long. "How's Solomon?"

"His usual self."

"That bad, huh?"

He heard her huff on the other end. "He thinks we're in more trouble than any of us signed up for with this Cabal."

Tom glanced down the street, finding it mostly empty at that time of night. "He's not wrong. It doesn't make things easier."

"We'd get bored if it did."

That finally tugged a smile from him. "Yeah."

"Tom, do you know anything about a link to your parents from the Cabal?"

"Should I?"

"I don't know. Just something Mattie said…. and then refused to say anything else about."

"Vague bastard."

"Don't push yourself too hard tonight. Go back to the safe house and get some sleep if you can. Maybe she hasn't even been home yet."

"Maybe."

"Trust me. If that woman is even half as head over heels for you as you are for her, she wouldn't waste a second getting back to you."

The smile returned, albeit faintly. "Thanks, Nez. I'll let you know what Dumont and I get from the files. Tell Solomon… I don't know? Congrats on not dying?"

"Sounds about right for you two."

He ended the call and loosed a breath, watching it show in a puff in front of him. Sleep wasn't going to be an option, but he could get a good start on trying to track down Garvey's allies before the sun came back up.

Notes: Poor Tom. All he wants to do is get back to his wife. And he's so close!

Also, to my anon that was worried that this was going to end quickly.... I don't think that's going to be an issue. I have a LOT of threads that are still being laid out and there'll be quite a few to tie up by the end, and then once that's done I do have a shorter follow up that I'm planning to write. There's definitely enough story here that it's going to be going for a while yet. This one has the possibility of getting close to if not breaking my word count record. It's already starting to crash my Google Docs app. Apparently 80K is where it starts getting huffy with me.

Next Time: Prescott tasks Ressler to find information on a mystery woman for him, Katarina drags Scottie to DC, and Tom has a close call before uncovering Liz's location.

Chapter Text

The problem with under the table deals was that rules didn't apply. No matter how much Ressler gave, Prescott continued to take. He would take until Ressler couldn't do it anymore, either because he was was caught, killed, or the weight became too much to bear. Every time he caught a glance of the flag folded in his apartment or one of Prescott's calls took him away from a case, putting his team another man down and possibly in danger, Ressler felt that weight increase just a little more. There had to be a limit to what people could take.

Any hopes of getting to Cooper in a timely fashion had gone out the window when Ressler had finally answered Prescott's call. Avoiding him for days hadn't bought him any relief and his payback would end with yet another task. He had dragged Ressler out to Maryland and made him wait an hour at an old, abandoned facility there. When he had finally shown up he had been his usual smug self, tossing a file onto the table. Ressler had found a stark reminder of just why Prescott felt entitled to an answered call, no matter the time of day or night, through a set of photos of himself standing over Laurel Hitchin's body. Below the blackmail photos was another one that he had never seen before. The picture was dark, but the angle was just right to catch the face of the red headed woman that appeared to be speaking with Prescott. He expected Ressler to use his resources at the FBI to track the woman down. Discreetly of course.

He had come in at the break of dawn that morning in hopes that he could handle it before the team arrived at the Post Office. If he lucked out he could find what he needed and be ready to speak to Cooper about Tom when he arrived.

"Hey, how was the vacation?"

Then again, he hadn't lucked out on much lately. "It was fine, Aram."

Aram didn't seem to take the hint from his tone. "Samar's been talking about going away for a weekend. I know it's kind of a stretch because we're running so thin lately, but I heard that Agent Keen is back."

That pulled Ressler's attention from the search. "You saw her?"

"Samar did. When she went to go speak to Mr Reddington about a case."

"Did she say anything?"

"No…. Samar said she was kind of vague about the whole thing. I mean, after everything, I guess we were surprised she came back at all."

Ressler let his gaze slide back to his work. "She'll come around."

Aram made a startled sort of noise to Ressler' left. "I don't know. I mean, losing the person you love is kind of a big deal."

"I'm aware," the ginger agent snapped and he saw the taller man flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh wow. Right. I'm sorry, I didn't even…." He cleared his throat awkwardly and motioned to the screen. "So who's Katherine Mills? Is she linked to Mr Reddington's treasure hunt?"

The search had finished and a driver's license had popped up with the woman's information. Canadian citizen, no record, but also no indication that she had come into the United States. Ressler leaned towards the computer, studying the clear image, and he couldn't shake the feeling he had seen her somewhere before. "Not sure yet," he finally mumbled in response.

If Aram had anything to say about it, that was cut off as the lift sounded an alert that it was carrying someone to the war room. Ressler used the distracted moment to shut down the search so that no one else would see and turned to find Elizabeth Keen entering the Post Office. She looked tired, but focused, and there was nothing that immediately told Ressler if she had met up with her husband or not.

Not that he had the opportunity to ask with Aram there. As much as he hated keeping one more thing from the team, he'd made a deal with Tom. Cooper only.

Aram took off to greet Liz at the entrance and Ressler offered her a wave and a tight smile as she passed by. "Just here to get something," she stated flatly, not bothering with an actual greeting. No, he didn't think Tom had caught up with her yet. Maybe if he could catch her alone…. The lift sounded again, revealing Cooper this time, and Aram passed by Ressler's desk on his way after Liz. It would have to wait. Cooper couldn't. He'd just have to try to catch Liz on her way out.

Tom had spent the night and into the morning pouring over the files that Nez had sent over and running them against Halcyon's records. Having access to the full force of his parents' company without having to tiptoe around them made things infinitely easier to dig up. The Task Force surrounding Garvey was relatively clean, most of them exceptionally so. Good records, steady performance, but he had to wonder if this was how Garvey was putting a stop to investigations they'd tried to conduct. It would have been easy enough with the collection he kept around him. One of his people was even heading up Metro PD's investigation into Tom's supposed death.

Dirty cops usually had something to show for it, but nothing stood out here. Not outside of the convenience of it all. By the time Dumont nearly shoved breakfast down his throat and Tom had swallowed the pills that accompanied it, he had about decided he needed some space from the files if he was going to find what he was sure he was missing.

It had been Nez that had pushed him back towards the apartment with the idea that maybe Liz hadn't gotten the note in time for the meet. She could be at home sleeping off a late night or even still out. Either way he could find out by dropping by. If she wasn't there and the note hadn't budged, he had his answer.

Tom flexed his stiff fingers as he stood outside the door, all the anxiety flooding back in. The longer he went without her knowing he was alive, the more it felt like lying to her. He tapped his knuckles against the door and waited. There was no movement from inside and he loosed a breath, going for his picks.

His hands were shaking after a night of no sleep and it took a couple of tries to get the mechanisms to turn correctly and unlock the door. Finally he heard the lock give and the door swung open to show an apartment entirely unchanged in just under twenty-four hours. The lights were off, there was no coat hanging on the rack, and after he stepped in and flipped the lock back into place, he moved into the living room to reveal his sticky note untouched.

He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not. Liz hadn't been home that night. That left him with the question of where she had crashed or even if she had. Not that he had a lot of room to talk there. He ran a hand through his hair, standing it up on end, and looked around the room. He could wait. If she was here or not it was a risk of spooking her, so maybe it would be better if he just-

Footsteps making their way down the hall drew his attention and Tom turned back towards the door, a chill seeping through him when he recognized the muffled voices beyond the front door. There was a knock and Tom didn't dare risk remaining out in the open. He moved silently, avoiding one particularly squeaky floorboard, and ducked into his and Liz's bedroom just as he heard the key slip into the lock. He pulled the bedroom door partially closed, stepping behind it even as the front door opened.

"...difficult to get ahold of. Surely she's seen the calls. Elizabeth?" Raymond Reddington called out, waltzing into the apartment like he had any right.

"Perhaps she didn't come home last night," Dembe offered.

Reddington snorted and Dembe paused just outside the bedroom door. Tom didn't dare breathe as he spoke. "You will not be able to dissuade her from this, Raymond."

"You underestimate me."

"You underestimate her."

Tom twitched a little at that. As intelligent as Reddington was, he was bullheaded about a few things and Liz was one of them. If he wasn't treating her like a pawn in his game, he was speaking to her like a child that refused to listen when daddy obviously knew best. What right he had to treat a grown woman that had proven herself more than capable of making decisions for and taking care of herself, even when Reddington dropped her in the middle of his own chaotic world like a child was still yet to be seen, was beyond him. Reddington wasn't her father, no matter what she might believe, and the fact that he let her believe it to further the manipulation made Tom's blood boil. He'd get what was coming though. If Liz wanted something, she went for it, and no one on the planet could to stop her. It was one of the many things her husband loved about her that Reddington seemed to view as some sort of flaw that needed to be corrected. The fact that those around him had every right to a different opinion - one that might actually take them all down a better path, if Reddington would give it half a moment's thought - never crossed the older man's mind. He lived his life assuming that those around him would bend to his will and putting down those that didn't. That was what had pushed Tom to taking the bones in the first place and what now had him hiding in his own home to make sure that this wasn't the day that his would-be father-in-law discovered Garvey hadn't finished him off. They couldn't risk Reddington knowing he was alive.

Reddington grumbled something under his breath and Tom heard the faint sound of him shuffling in the living room. He shifted his own weight, making sure to remain absolutely quiet behind the door even as it sounded like Reddington was making a call. "I've been looking for you," he said after a moment. Liz. He must have been talking to Liz.

There was a long moment in which she must have been talking. "Apparently I'm not the only one," the Concierge of Crime answered the question only he could hear.

Tom leaned forward a little, hoping to catch a word or two filtering in over the phone, but instead he felt his own give off a sharp vibration in his pocket. His movement was instant, clamping down on the button to silence it and he held his breath.

"I've cautioned you that in the pursuit of Tom's killer you need to…. restrain your darker impulses." There was a pause in his voice and Tom pressed his back up against the wall behind him, hoping against everything that whoever had tried to contact him didn't try again immediately after. He heard Dembe's footsteps, the door pushed a little closer to him and there was nowhere else for him to go as he squared his shoulders back and made himself as thin as possible, the door the only thing between him and what looked like Dembe leading into his room with his gun drawn. He couldn't see him well, the door blocking his view, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for his next move.

Reddington's voice drolled on from the living room, the details of the conversation lost to the more pressing matter of not being discovered. It felt like a small eternity before Dembe stepped back out into the hall, murmuring that the room was clear.

There was a long pause, almost like Reddington were weighing if he trusted the empty walls to hold whatever secrets the conversation he was having with Liz would spill out. "Tom's evidence?" he asked after a beat and the man in question squeezed his eyes shut again. Was the man going to set up shop in his living room?

"Right. Text me your address. Dembe and I will meet you there."

Tom heard the two men move down the hallway and out the door, never once admitting to being in Liz's home without her permission or even her knowledge. He waited a long moment after he heard the door close and lock behind them before he finally loosed a long breath, feeling a little lightheaded from it. He leaned heavily against the wall behind him, fishing his cell out of his pocket. Scottie's name accompanied a missed call and a text that simply said Call me. He glared at it before dialing a different number and pulling the phone up to his ear.

"Yo, your mom's lookin' for you," Dumont answered.

"And she nearly got me caught by Reddington."

"Aren't you at home?"

"Yeah."

"Reddington was in your home?"

"Story of my life. I need you to do a search for Liz. Run the aliases through. She didn't spend the night here, so she's staying somewhere else."

"Done waiting?"

"Done waiting. I'm not missing another opportunity. Call me when you've got her location."

"Will do, but you'll need to call Scottie back. She's in DC."

Tom's brows drew together. "What for?"

"You know how she is with details, man."

He snorted. "Just let me know when you find out about Liz," he said before ending the call.

The whole thing was a mess. She had never meant to kill Navarro, just to get answers. Everything had happened so quickly and suddenly they were fighting, he had her by the throat, she had fought back and….. If she meant to or not really didn't matter now. He was dead and she had covered everything up. Or, closer to the truth, she was still covering everything up.

Detective Singleton had been little more than an irritation constantly buzzing around until he had decided that he wanted to take her down instead of find her husband's murderer. Now he was sniffing around Navarro's place and she had to get the one shred of evidence she had left there from lockup before DNA could be run. She had never thought Reddington would turn up so useful at just the right time.

Liz closed the door to her apartment behind her and froze. She couldn't place it, but every instinct she had was screaming…. something. She reached around, fingers latched on the gun hidden under her shirt and she inched forward.

She found the apartment empty. Her evidence board in the wall was untouched, the boxes of evidence still sat where she had left them the morning before, but as she moved closer she saw the smallest difference. A sticky note with scrawled handwriting on it. Carefully she slipped her gun back into the holster and reached for the paper, a chill running up and down her spine. She would have known the handwriting anywhere.

2400 Wisconsin Ave

9pm

She knew the address. Wing Yee's. It was the small note under the time and place that left her spooked.

We usually do six impossible things before breakfast.

Someone was screwing with her and trying to get into her head. The handwriting and the location would have been enough, but she couldn't recall another person besides Tom himself that would know the inside joke. Of all the pieces of him that had been a lie in their first marriage, the underlying nerd that could be found reading to all hours until he fell asleep with the book on his chest while he waited for her to come home hadn't been one of them. She had hoped as Agnes grew up they could share their favourite stories with their daughter. Now someone was trying to use her husband against her. Why, she wasn't sure, but that was really the only plausible explanation.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her jump, and Liz crumpled the note between her fingers. She would deal with it later. First she had to get evidence out of lockup and finish disposing of Bobby Navarro.

Katarina had shown up without notice at Halcyon and had slipped past their first three layers of security before being detected. She had been ready to break their head of security's neck when Scottie had intervened, pulling her into her office and away from her employees that were just trying to do their jobs. Everything about her demeanour had been agitated, from her clipped question about Special Agent Donald Ressler to her demands to follow up with Tom to get the information that Scottie didn't have. And a phone call, apparently, just wouldn't do. Kat was determined to set a meet.

That was what left her sitting in her office space in DC, Katarina Rostova pacing the length of the room to get a closer look at the photos on the wall that Howard hadn't bothered to pull down in his brief tenure as sole head of Halcyon, and Scottie leaned back in her chair to watch her. Tom would be there at any time, but she still wasn't sure what Kat thought she was getting from him.

"This is Masha."

Scottie looked over to focus in on the photo of the little girl. "From the beach."

Katarina's smile was almost soft, but as she straightened it disappeared. "He is coming, isn't he?"

"He said he was."

"Maybe you should have brought the girl. Agnes. He would have come for her."

Scottie bristled a little at that. "You know how I feel about that. Moving her around too much is dangerous."

"A little incentive never hurt," the former KGB agent said with a shrug, even as the phone buzzed on Scottie's desk. "He could still be angry at you for lying to him."

"Do you want my help or not?" the dark haired woman snapped, punching the intercom button. "What?"

The guard announced Tom by the alias Dumont had help set up for him to travel under and she had him sent up, shooting a warning look at Katarina. "And what about you? Do you plan on telling him who you are?"

"Masha can't know."

"I see."

It was Katarina's turn to fix a glare, but the office door opened before she could say anything. Tom entered looking tired and irritable. "What is so important that you fly down from New York and pull me away from-" He stopped mid sentence and fixed his gaze on Katarina, his tone more careful with the next question. "And who are you?"

She flashed him a charming smile. "Katherine Nichols. Kat."

"Okay, that doesn't necessarily answer my question."

Scottie tried to catch his eye but he was focused in on Katarina like he knew something, but that was impossible. He had only met Kat briefly when they had taken the kids to the beach and he had been three years old. As far as he had conveyed to either Howard or herself, Tom had no memories before his abduction. He didn't have anything clear for his first year with the Phelps family either. That meant that the recognition she could have sworn passed through his dark blue eyes was misplaced. It had to be. Perhaps he just saw traces of his own wife in her.

Katarina paused, but her smile didn't fade. She was studying him, sizing him up to determine what she could get away with. "I'm the woman your father called to provide a body double for you, so you can say that I was involved in saving your life."

Tom squared his shoulders a little and held her gaze. "And now you want something from me."

"Clever boy."

"What?"

"Information about Special Agent Donald Ressler."

For the first time since he had walked into the room Tom looked surprised. "Why?"

"That's not important."

"Like hell it's not."

Katarina took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs at the knees and she never broke eye contact. "I've looked into him. Everything about him on paper looks very legitimate-"

"It is. He's a good man. A good cop."

"Would there be any reason for him to have contracted a fixer?"

Tom tilted his head at that, his jaw clenching ever so slightly and he didn't follow her in taking a seat. "No."

"Then what is his connection with Henry Prescott?"

"I don't know who that is."

Katarina's smile hadn't faded, not until that point, and she loosed a breath. "You don't, do you?"

She stood and Tom moved into her way. "Listen, I don't know what thread you think you're following, but there are only a handful of cops or feds that I'd be willing to vouch for, and Ressler's one of them. I don't know what you think you know about him, but it's wrong. He's clean."

"Or perhaps you don't know him like you think you do," Katarina chirped as she stood. She turned to Scottie. "I need to borrow Nez."

"She's unavailable," Scottie answered immediately.

"For the right price anyone is available. I won't take her for long." Her gaze flickered to Tom and she shrugged. "I'll reach out to Howard about the specifics," she said before walking from the office before any argument could be made.

There was a beat of silence before Tom turned, levelling a glare at his mother. "What the hell was that?"

"She's an old friend of your father's and mine," Scottie said carefully. "She's been following the lead to the Cabal-"

"And somehow that led to Ressler?" Tom asked, not bothering to hide the disbelief.

"I'll fill your father in on it. We won't let anything happen to your wife's partner. Have you found her yet?"

"Working on it."

Scottie swallowed her next remark, instead taking a moment to study her son. He'd been tense since he'd walked through the door, his distrust visible in the way he carried himself, and she didn't think it was just for Katarina. There was something in the way he was looking at her, the way he was watching her, that reminded her that he blamed her for time he thought he could have been with his wife. He couldn't have. She knew that, and if he hadn't been so close he would know too. Even know he looked worn down and tired, pushing his limits and then some. If he'd gone to her months ago all he would have accomplished would have been to get himself killed. If he blamed her, so be it. He was alive and that was what mattered.

She tried for a smile and stood. "I know that you think-"

Something caught his attention and suddenly he was pulling his cell phone from his pocket, putting it to his ear. "Tell me you have good news." There was a pause and she saw something in his expression change. "I owe you. Text me the address."

"You found her?" Scottie asked as he ended the call.

"Yeah. She has a motel room under an alias. Dumont just… I have to go."

"I know," she answered tightly and rounded the desk. He didn't move as she closed the distance between them, reaching out so that the palm of her hand was against his cheek. He didn't flinch and he didn't lean away, so she tipped up a little on her toes and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "It may not always seem like it, but I love you, Tom."

She found him staring at her, those dark blue eyes wide and confused, a million emotions flashing through them all at once. "I have to go," he said after a moment.

"I know," she repeated and her hand fell to her side as he turned. She watched him leave without another word and stood frozen there until long after he was gone.

Tom found the motel without a great deal of trouble from the address that Dumont provided, but no one answered when he knocked. The place was a dump, worse than the motel she'd lived out of right before she'd gone on the run from the Cabal. There was no security, but plenty of people that appeared to be more than willing to look the other way. Even with the afternoon sun still high enough in the sky to give off plenty of light, he had no problem getting inside. No one seemed to care.

He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, every instinct screaming at him that something was wrong. Tom turned, refusing to go for his gun as his gaze swept the room. It was relatively large and very clean, but it was staged for something. Heavy curtains were drawn it looked like someone had put plastic over the archways leading into the bathroom. He inched forward, not certain he wanted to see whatever was on the other side, and reached out to tug the hanging plastic door open so he could move through it.

He was hit immediately by the smell. The stench of strong chemicals filled his lungs, gagging him and he staggered a little at the unexpected stench before regaining his footing. It took a moment or two more to be able to open his eyes against it and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.

The plastic was fixed to every surface and every wall, blue tape holding it in place. To his right was a heart-shaped tub filled with bubbling, dark red liquid. Tom cringed a little, forcing himself forward and burying his nose in the crook of his elbow to try to shield himself a little from the smell that was only growing stronger. A quick glance up showed the mirrored ceiling and a a few dark lumps in the liquid. It didn't take long to figure out what it was. The only question was who it used to be.

Tom's lips thinned out as he leaned back again. He'd cleaned more than one crime scene over the years. Bleaching a floor, scrubbing out the blood from the carpet, wiping down every surface he might have touched… those were all pretty basic lessons at St Regis. He'd given Liz a tip or two over the years, just in case, but he'd never taught her this. Hell, he'd never gone this route to get rid of a body. Whatever she was into, she was in deep.

The door outside of the plastic gave a loud clicking sound, evidence of a key being turned in the old lock. He froze where he was, waiting to see if Liz walked through the door or if he'd be diving for cover and going for his gun.

His wife backed into the motel room, arms full of supplies and she let it swing closed behind her. Liz paused, and Tom didn't have time to say a word before she dropped everything, pulled her gun, and leveled it at him. His hands immediately went up. He couldn't see her face clearly through the plastic, so she couldn't see his, but she could hear his voice. "Liz."

She froze where she was for a long moment, gun still trained on him and she remained silent. All of a sudden she moved forward, ripping open the plastic door and those beautiful blue eyes of hers were locked on him in shock and a dozen other emotions fighting for a place in them. "Tom?"

His lips stretched very hesitantly. "Hey, babe."

She finally lowered her weapon. "How?" she managed, her voice raspy and she must have been in this room for hours before. He swallowed hard, ready to try to dive into the explanation when she took a step back, her expression melting into a mix of hurt and confusion and maybe even a little anger. "No. Why?"

"Liz, I can explain everything. Can we just-"

"You were dead. They told me you were dead."

Tom pulled in a breath and found himself choking on it. "Can we take this outside of the melting room?" he asked, his voice a little weak and his smile even weaker.

She nodded very slightly and turned. Tom followed behind her and breathed in much fresher air outside of the plastic. She stood with her back to him, unmoving and he wasn't absolutely sure she was even breathing. A couple moments ticked by before Tom reached out hesitantly. "Liz?"

His wife spun the moment his fingers touched her arm and he stumbled back, only barely avoiding the blow. She had a wild look in her eye and could see the tears standing there. "Why?" she demanded again, her tone hurt and angry and everything in between.

"Because I didn't know," he answered honestly, not having to second guess the meaning behind the question. "I didn't know you were awake until after you'd left for Alaska, and by the time I found you there and was able to get there you were gone again. I've been…" He shook his head, a rough chuckle leaving him. "We just kept missing each other. I've been searching for you."

She blinked hard, a couple of tears escaping with the movement. "You left the note."

"You found it?"

"Today. When I stopped by the apartment." She pulled in a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. There were so many emotions raging for front seat there and he swallowed hard, taking another hesitant step towards her and she let him. He didn't dare say anything and she took a step forward. "You were dead. You've been gone over a year, Tom. You…. what happened?"

"It's kind of a long story."

Her gaze hardened a little. "Then give me the highlights."

He ran a hand through his dark hair and shrugged. "I died. They didn't lie to you about that, Liz. From what Howard and Nez said I was gone for a couple of minutes. I don't know exactly how long, but enough the doctors called it." He watched Liz's expression tighten, but he forced himself forward. "They gave me a medication that got me back and I've been in recovery since. That's the... abbreviated version."

She nodded slowly and he watched her soak in the meaning of it. He couldn't quite tell if the motion was meant as an acceptance or merely that she had heard him. Finally she looked up. "Are you okay?"

The answer to that question shouldn't have been as complicated as it was. He offered a smile and risked another step towards her. "Better now," he said, and that was true. Just seeing her with his own eyes, being able to reach out to her, it made him feel like they could get through this. That there was a light somewhere at the end of this long, painful, and dangerous tunnel.

Liz reached out, her fingers ghosting over the side of his face. She was holding his gaze, and as her hand snaked around to the back of his neck Tom let himself be guided forward. His eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips against his. The kiss was tentative at first, both afraid that they would shatter the moment only to wake from a dream, but the longer the moment lasted the more real it felt. The more real Tom was willing to believe it was.

Liz made a soft sound as he deepened the kiss, both of his hands shifting to bury his fingers in her dark hair and she tightened her hold on him, her free hand moving to take hold of the front of his shirt. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised breathlessly, barely breaking this kiss to let the words tumble out.

"I'm not taking any chances," she murmured, pulling him willingly back into the kiss.

It was broken just a moment later by the sound of an alarm reminding them of the body being stewed in the other room. Tom pulled away, a small smile playing on his lips. "About that…?"

"Bobby Navarro," his wife answered, her voice dark and dangerous and Tom's smile immediately faded. He didn't know what had happened, but Navarro wasn't a push over. He wouldn't have gone down easily.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she huffed. "It's just a mess."

He leaned in, his forehead bumping hers. "What do you need?"

She swallowed hard and felt shift so that her arms circled his waist. "You."

That pulled a smile from him and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You've got me, but we still need to deal with your admittedly effective clean up methods."

He heard her snort a short laugh, leaning into his chest. "It'll be a couple more hours, but that'll give you time to fill me in on what happened." She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Everything."

Tom made a small sound of agreement before reluctantly releasing her. It was time. It had been time for months now. If he had had his way he would have been waiting by her bedside to tell her the instant she had woken up, but that hadn't been an option. He was there now, though, and if anyone deserved to know the truth about everything that had happened, it was Liz. With that in mind, he started in on a story that was long overdue, and it began with a call from Kate Kaplan.

Notes: It took me 65K, but here we are. The Keen2 reunion! It was such an utter relief to get to this portion of the story in the writing process. My beta left me a comment on the google docs file that she really liked the easy-going feel of the reunion and I couldn't help but think about how many times they'd been separated. Liz's death has been faked twice now. We don't know if Tom saw the news clip the first time, but there's a really good chance that there was a chunk of time right after Agnes was born that he didn't know if Liz was alive or dead, and that doesn't even touch on the surprise reunions that they've had where the other didn't know they were coming. It's just... the Keens. And I'm so freakin' happy that they're together again.

Next time: Liz learns some big news and Singleton makes a surprise visit to the Keens' home and finds some evidence that she may not be alone.

Chapter Text

Tom had haunted her dreams for months. There had been nights where she had re-lived his death on a loop and others when he came home to her, pulling her close and whispering promises in her ear. They were okay. They would be together again, and everything would be okay. She had woken each and every time, and even the dreams where he came home ended in misery when he wasn't in the bed next to her.

But she hadn't woken this time, and there were none of the usual signs that dreams left behind. Every moment was accounted for and every touch was solid. When she turned her back he was still there, his voice even as he spoke, explaining how he'd received a call from Kate Kaplan and had found a suitcase with Liz's name on it.

They worked together to finish as he spoke and she pushed back every question, every demand for further information. If it was a dream she didn't want to wake herself up, and if it wasn't they'd have time. Through the whole thing, his voice steadied her as she finished what she had started. The suitcase, the search, the DNA test, and how Garvey had gotten ahold of him the first place all came out as he spoke, his gaze a little distant as he sank down to sit and talk. She followed the story closely, her own actions running on autopilot so she could focus on his words. Reddington had known more than she had dared suspected. He had known where Tom was as she had searched and if she didn't know better, he had used Tom as bait to get his precious bones back, leaving him in Garvey's hands until the last possible second.

By the time that any evidence of Navarro was gone Liz's head had been spinning, but if it was from the chemical she had been breathing in or the overload of information she hadn't been sure. He started with the bones, but she had redirected him, needing to know about him. She needed to know how he'd survived and what could possibly have kept him away from her for so long before she could hear or even hope to process anything else. She trusted him. She wanted to trust him, but she needed to know, and he seemed to understand that as he shifted seamlessly into that part of the explanation, his voice soothing to listen to as she worked, no matter how insane the subject of the conversation. Liz found herself listening to the story of how Howard had saved Tom and what had followed with a sort of numbness as she drained last bit of the stew that had dissolved Bobby Navarro. Agnes had been with Tom since Scottie had taken her and her husband had been desperately trying to find her from the moment he was able. He'd missed her time and again, from what he said, and if she'd just paused half a moment she could have known all of this sooner. What it would have changed, she couldn't be sure, but even a moment more with him felt like it would have been worth it.

"I can have Dumont take a look at that eye," Tom offered as they walked through the front door and into the apartment they had once shared. "He should be able to run analysis on it and-"

Liz turned, her abrupt motion cutting him off. "I don't care about the eye," she said flatly and she reached forward, fingers wrapping around the thick material of his open coat to pull him forward.

"Liz… Liz?" he tried, not really fighting to pull away. "I need to tell you-"

"It can wait."

"Isn't that what got us into-?" He didn't finish the question as she pulled him closer, using the kiss to cut it off. She wasn't sure she could take anymore right then. For just a few moments before everything hit the fan again, she needed him. She needed to put everything else aside and just focus on the fact that he was there, that he was alive, and that he was with her.

He stopped resisting, and Liz thought that he might have felt the same. He fell into her with a laugh that helped to push back the shock. She could feel his smile against her lips, his hands moving across her as she kissed him and he kissed her. Liz reached up and tugged his coat from his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her middle. She shifted her own around his neck and an echo of a laugh crept up on her as he picked her up off the floor and she was suddenly leaning down to kiss him, her legs around his middle as they stumbled forward, both a little desperate in the moment.

He turned, heading for the bedroom and Liz found herself on her back against the bed, Tom bent over her and his kisses traveled down her jaw and her neck, lingering against the crook of her shoulder. She reached around, tugging at the back of his t-shirt to try to do something about the layers he was wearing. He shifted his hold, seeming to move with her, but somehow managed to press down just hard enough on the injury her fight with Navarro had left her with to pull a hiss of pain from her. Tom pulled back immediately and Liz reached for him, not ready to let him go just yet.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice rough but worried. He tilted his weight so that he took a hard seat on the bed next to her.

"I'm fine," she promised, moving to lean in over him and she pressed another kiss to his lips to try to keep the moment from being entirely ruined. He didn't seem convinced as he pulled the hem of her shirt up to take a look. She tried to swat him away. "Tom, I said I'm fine."

"This doesn't look fine," he argued and he looked up at her. "If you're hurt-"

And the mood was effectively ruined. She let out a low sound that was mostly a huff and flopped over onto her side of the bed. "You just can't leave things alone sometimes."

"Not if you're hurt," he said firmly and there was no point arguing with him over it. She laid still on the bed and this was not what she had in mind when she had tried to get them out of their clothes.

Tom's long fingers brushed against bare skin as he tugged gently at the dressings that probably needed to be changed anyway. "We still have a first aid kit in the bathroom?"

"Yeah."

"Don't move," he murmured and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before rolling off the bed.

She laid there, her mind whirling, and listening hard to make sure she could still hear him rummaging around for what he needed. He went silent then and Liz was halfway to sitting up when he walked back in. She didn't give him a chance to say anything before flopping back again.

"So what happened?" he asked as he went to work on cleaning the wound and rebandaging it.

"I accidentally put Navarro through a glass table," she admitted softly and cracked an eye open as he chuckled.

"Accidentally?"

"I needed him alive. He had answers."

Tom fixed the bandage in place, his touch gentle as he did, and Liz found herself looking directly up at him. "Good thing you've got me for those answers, huh?"

"And a few other things," she said suggestively.

Her husband flashed her a wide grin and leaned down to kiss her again now that he was convinced she was alright. She felt him sink into it, his hands moving to pull her tank top the rest of the way off, but as she sat up to let him it was her turn to push him away a little. He looked a little liked a kicked puppy and she laughed, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to wash some of the chemicals off before they work their way permanently into my skin."

"Fair point."

Liz swung her legs over the side of the bed, but paused when he didn't follow. He was watching her with that awe-struck expression that he got sometimes that made her wonder how she could have ever questioned that he loved her, even in their darkest days. "You coming, babe?"

She didn't have to ask twice as he hopped off the bed and to his feet.

They had left a trail of their clothes from the bedroom, across the hall, and into the bathroom that did them precious little good when they finally emerged from the shower, half lost in the steam that had filled the small bathroom up to all corners. A change of clothes had been the last thing on Tom's mind as he'd followed his wife in, both of them feeling more alive than they'd felt in over a year. The thought still hadn't quite made the cut even as he wrapped a towel around his waist, his dark blue gaze flickering over to Liz as she did the same. She looked up, her grin only a little mischievous, but the rest of it reflected in her eyes. "Hey you."

"Hey you," he greeted back and he felt the corners of his mouth stretch as wide as they could. "I've missed you."

"Really?" Liz asked, starting to cover the space between them. "I'm not sure I've gotten that impression since-"

The teasing retort was instantly silenced as he leaned down and kissed her. He could feel Liz smile against him, her hands trailing up the white towel, teasing at the corners folded under at his hips, and he laughed into the kiss at the chill that ran through him when she made it to bare skin. Her hand paused just a moment as her palm pressed against the scars that now ran up and down his left side from Garvey's knife, but she didn't linger long.

"I may have boxed up all your things," she said breathlessly when they finally parted.

"Are you telling me all my clothes are in storage?"

She pursed her lips together. "Yeah."

"It's a good thing I've got a go-bag, huh?" he teased, stealing one more quick kiss before he reached for the door and let the steam pour out into the hallway. He winked at her as he walked out and didn't miss the over-the-top eye roll she gave him in return.

"Dork," she called.

"One of the things you love about me, isn't it?" he called as he stooped down to grab the bag.

"Your watch is beeping in here, babe. You have an alarm set on it?"

He circled around and into the room to find her fiddling with it. "No, it's just yelling at me to do something. Or maybe because I've had it off too long."

She quirked an eyebrow and tossed it at him. "Your watch has separation anxiety?"

He looked down, finding the particular warning about already being late for the evening round of pills. He strapped it back in place and set his bag on the bed, digging for what he needed to make it stop.

Liz's movement caught his attention as she dug through a drawer, pulling out an oversized sleeping shirt and letting the towel fall to the floor. He caught a glimpse of her looking at him from the corner of her eye, a small smirk playing on her lips, and damn her if she didn't know exactly what she was doing to him. His watch gave another sharp sound and he grabbed the pill bottle from his bag.

"I don't think we should take Navarro's eye to Dumont."

Tom glanced over to find Liz slipping the shirt over her head. "The only problem with Aram is keeping it out of Reddington's line of sight." He popped a couple of pills back, dry swallowing them.

"That's just it. I want to take it to Reddington."

Tom froze where he was, mentally rewinding the words that had just tumbled from his wife's mouth and replaying them to make sure he heard them right. "Come again?"

She pushed a long breath out through her nose. "You heard me. I want to take it to Reddington. It gives him a chance to tell me the truth on his own. Whatever those bones mean-"

This was it. This was why he should have led in with the bones. She'd been so determined to hear what had happened to him that he'd led in with that for her, but now he'd waited too long. This was too dangerous. "Babe, he hasn't told you yet and handing over a piece of tech to him isn't going to change that. Let me just-"

"He's my father, Tom. Whatever they mean, whoever that was, he-"

"And there it is." He stepped into his sleeping shorts and tossed his towel in the corner with more force than was actually needed.

Her eyes narrowed briefly. "There what is?"

"The reason I didn't tell you about the bones in the first place. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I get that, but he doesn't deserve it. He's lied to you, manipulated you, and he-" His watch howled a warning and he loosed a breath, reaching for his t-shirt and he could tell just how badly his hands were shaking. This needed to de-escalate and quickly or he'd be paying to price by more than just an angry wife.

"And what if I'd treated you that way?" Liz snapped, pulling his attention back around. "What if I'd never given you the opportunity to tell me the truth? If I'd never asked for it?"

"You've asked him, Liz. Again and again you've asked him. That man isn't going to change. Not now. He's proven that, and if you hand over that tech all you're doing is setting yourself up to lose it. He's not…." He shook his head, regretting the action instantly. He was having trouble breathing and every movement threatened to tilt him off his feet. He needed to steady himself before he could hope to explain what he'd found in that DNA test. He turned, hoping to take just a moment and let the medication do its job. "Hang on."

"Tom, don't walk away from me while we're-"

Whatever she was saying was lost as his vision tunnelled and the next thing Tom knew he was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to keep from losing the pills he'd swallowed on an otherwise empty stomach. It was late, he'd been up for over twenty-four hours, and his emotions were running on high. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know, but right then he needed to stop the room from spinning before he could explain what he'd found.

It took a long moment before he realised Liz was knelt down with him. She reached forward, her hand covering his that was gripping the t-shirt he had meant to put on so hard that his knuckles were turning white. "Hey," she coaxed. "Look at me. There you are. Take it easy."

"'M okay."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Tom," she did, her voice soft but fierce. Her hand was cool against his cheek and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You ready to get up?"

"Maybe?"

Her smile was strained, but she got under his arm to help hold his weight if he needed it. He leaned on her as they made their way over to the bed and he sank down on it, his movements slow but relatively steady.

Liz disappeared for a moment and reappeared just a few moments later with a bottle of water. He accepted it gratefully and nearly chugged the whole thing in one go.

"Food's on its way. I don't know what you took a few minutes ago, but my guess is that it wasn't supposed to be on an empty stomach."

"No."

"Then food should help. Anything else you feel like sharing?" He winced at that and saw her echo the expression. "I'm sorry. You…. you just went down. Hard. I didn't…"

"I didn't mean to scare you," Tom managed, reaching a hand up for her.

She took it instantly, her fingers wrapping around his. "Are you okay?"

The question sat between them for a moment and he shifted a little, giving her room to sit on the side of the bed with him. "Sort of?" he tried. "I'm better than I was. A lot better than I was."

"The way you talked about recovery you made it sound like you had gotten past it." Like you always do. She didn't say it, but the words hung in the air nevertheless.

Tom loosed a long breath. "Still working that part." He gave her hand a squeeze and tried for a smile. "I'm okay. Really. Just… still getting used to some new limits. I didn't sleep last night, I've been all over the place today, and-"

"And then got into a yelling match with me," she said softly.

"I wouldn't call it a yelling match. We've had those. That was…. a forcefully worded disagreement." He offered her a lopsided smile and a small laugh escaped her.

She leaned down and kissed him. "I can't lose you again, Tom. You know that, right? I can't."

"You won't."

Liz shifted carefully over him, stretching out beside him and reaching over. Her fingers ghosted along his scars, and he shivered and closed his eyes. "Don't lie to me," she said, her voice sounded more broken than he was comfortable with, and she nestled down against his bare chest.

"No," he promised. "Not to you."

"I'm holding you too that." She pulled in a deep breath.

"Liz, there's something I need to tell you."

"Can't it wait?"

"It can't. It's why we can't take this to Reddington. Why you can't trust him." He turned so that he was lying on his side, facing her. "I got the DNA test back in the bones. Liz…" He paused. There wasn't a good way to say it. There was only the truth. "The bones belong to Raymond Reddington. The man we know…. Liz he's not him. He's not your father."

He watched her, waiting for some little sign of emotion to break through the blank mask she was wearing. It took a moment and finally she blinked. "Are you-?"

"Yes."

"Then who the hell is he? Why…. why would he….?"

"I don't know, but I was started on a trail that I think could lead to that answer. I tracked down one of Kaplan's people before Garvey got ahold of me. He said I had to find Oleander. Any idea who that is?"

"No," Liz answered softly and he could see her pulling away.

"Hey," he coaxed, scooting close enough that his forehead touched hers. He was exhausted, and while lying down was helping he needed sleep if he was going to be worth anything the next day. He couldn't let himself drift yet though. "Look at me?" She did as he asked. "I love you. You're not facing this alone."

"I know." She loosed a breath and brought a hand up to rest against his face. "I love you too. Get some sleep."

"You okay?"

"No," she answered honestly, but he saw a little of the fire return to her eyes. But I will be. You and me, we're going to get to the bottom of this."

He nodded and settled in a little. He felt her wrap an arm around his middle. Their fight was far from over, but at least they were fighting it together.

The sound was muffled and difficult to make out at first, almost like she was listening down a tunnel or through a pillow. The second option seemed more reasonable as she crawled closer to the surface of consciousness, finally cracking an eye open to find that the night had been real after all. It had felt like a mix of a dream and a nightmare, the best and the worst happening all at once. Tom was alive, he was there with her, but the truth behind the bones was heavier than she'd given herself permission to believe. After everything, the man that she had come to accept as her father, the man that had stood there and let her hold onto him and love him despite everything, was anything but that. He had to have known that was what tied her to him, what kept her risking being shattered again and again by him. Her life had been turned upside down so many times by the sharp dressed, sharp witted man that had given himself over to the FBI more than five years before. He had watched her, stalked her, and had manipulated so much along the way. Somewhere in her mind she had been able to accept that if he was the man that she'd always longed to know. But he wasn't. Finally she knew that he wasn't, and in that moment she found herself right back to square one like nothing she had learned mattered at all. Nothing she had done mattered at all.

A sound drew her attention and she saw her husband sleeping next to her, his back rising and falling with each breath and she was reminded that not everything had been a waste. He looked peaceful like that, laid out on his stomach with his face half buried in his own pillow. He was completely undisturbed by the knock at the door and Liz remembered him saying he hadn't slept the night before. He had needed this. They both had. A smile tilted her lips upward as she reached out, the sound outside the apartment forgotten for the moment.

Tom stirred at the soft touch, a smile of his own inching into place and she saw those familiar eyes slide sleepily open. "Morning."

"Morning. How're you feeling?"

"Better," he answered and scooted closer, one arm wrapping around her middle before another loud knock drew both of their attentions.

"I need to get that," Liz mumbled when he did release her.

"They'll get the hint," Tom countered, pulling her a little closer.

Liz snorted a laugh as she forced herself to sit up, not missing the look of sleepy protest at the movement. "And if it's Reddington he'll just come in." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, muffling the groan he gave in response, and rolled out of bed. "Stay here."

"I'm doing a lot of hiding in my own home lately," he groused, but she didn't have time to ask him what he meant. She picked up the pace as the knock came again. Someone was persistent.

A quick glance out the peephole revealed Detective Singleton, not Raymond Reddington, and Liz stifled a groan of her own as she pulled the door open. She really wasn't sure which was worse right then. "It's early."

"Not that early," he answered, looking more than a little irritable as his gaze swept past her. "Unless you had an eventful night. Are you alone, Agent Keen?"

She had done her best to shove the clothes still littering the hallway out of sight as she had passed them, but clearly she had missed something. "I don't think that's really your business, is it, Detective?"

Singleton shot her a withering look and held out a package. "Your husband's effects," he said pointedly.

Liz kept her expression even as she took them. "Thank you."

She moved to close the door and he caught it. "How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Remove the evidence we had taken from Navarro's murder from lock up before it could be processed."

Liz blinked innocently. "Evidence was stolen from the case?"

Singleton's dark eyes narrowed at her. "I think you already knew that. I think you made it happen."

"Exactly why would I do that? The man had answers about Tom's death that I need."

"You seem really torn up about that," the detective said and Liz finally glanced back to find one of Tom's boots - very obviously not hers - half visible from the bathroom. Damn.

She turned a glare back on him. "Get out."

"Ms Keen-"

"Agent," she corrected. "I'm still a federal agent, Detective Singleton, and unless you have probable cause and a warrant, you're not welcome in my home. Get out."

He watched her for a beat more before he finally nodded, turning to leave. She slammed the door behind him, locking the door top and bottom with enough force that he would hear it from the hall.

When she turned she found Tom leaning against the door frame of their bedroom and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He didn't say a word as she rolled her eyes and stormed past him, giving his boot a kick for good measure.

That finally pulled a chuckle out of him and she heard him follow her into the living room. "You want breakfast?"

The question was so out of place for what had just happened that she turned to stare at him. "You're not going to ask who that was?"

"I know who he was. Detective Norman Singleton, Metro PD. He's over my, uh… I guess he's in charge of the case into my homicide."

"Our lives," Liz snorted.

"Yeah." He moved past her into the kitchen. "We've got a file on him and the rest of Garvey's task force to try to figure out if they're with him or not."

"Wait, back up. Garvey has a task force?" Liz managed.

Tom paused in his search through the cabinets, likely looking for something editable. "Yeah. Joint task force tracking the Nash Syndicate of all things. Did I miss that one?"

"Kind of a big one," she laughed, setting his things Singleton had brought on the table and joining him. She thought she might have some eggs. Maybe.

"They're all big ones," Tom huffed. He motioned to the egg carton she was studying, looking for an expiration date on. "That's part of the problem. Are those still good?"

"I think so?"

"Your good or my good?"

"Listen now," she groused and he grinned, taking it from her and digging a pan out of one of her boxes. She watched him for half a moment before turning for the package Singleton had brought again. "What did you mean earlier? About hiding in your own home a lot?"

Tom chuckled, cracking an egg over the pan. "I came by to see if you'd gotten the note and Reddington decided to drop in looking for you. Just managed to avoid getting shot by Dembe."

Liz paused, halfway into tearing the package open, and looked over at him. "Tom, do you think…. you don't think he'd hurt you, do you? So many people who have tried to tell me the truth have died because of him. Sam, Kate…. I don't know how many people, honestly."

He paused, the only sound for a long moment coming from the wooden spoon scrambling the eggs in the pan. "I don't know," he breathed finally. "I think he'll fight us on it. The bones, his secret, they're all more important to him than actually stopping Garvey or getting to the truth. Maybe even more important to him than stopping the Cabal. Until we get more answers I think it's time we make him play by his own rules. We keep necessary information close."

"I won't let him hurt you," Liz swore softly.

Tom dumped the eggs onto a plate and turned, his smile soft. "Really?"

"Really."

Tom put a plate down for her. "Anything good in that?"

Liz turned her attention back to his things and finished ripping the package open. "Looks like what you had on you when…" She swallowed hard, the memories still too fresh over a year later and she looked up, finding him crossing the distance between them.

"Food's ready," he offered, gently taking it from her and pulling her out of the flashback.

"Thanks." She watched him sort through it quickly out of the corner of her eye, taking inventory before he joined her. "Anything you need?"

"Key to my gunbox, yeah. I have some research hidden away there."

It was said so casually that he might have gotten away with it had he not fixed her with one of those innocent expressions he wore so well to fool anyone but her. "Uh-huh," she answered around a mouthful of scrambled eggs and motioned for him to continue.

"Oleander," he clarified and she remembered him mentioning it the night before. "It's a person. A him. That's all I know, really. I tried searching it through Halcyon's systems but everything came up a blank. It was weird. I'm hoping looking over the notes I had on it might help."

"And you think that this Oleander can lead us to answers about Reddington."

"Reddington, Garvey…. I don't know." He took a bite of his eggs and she saw a little mischief dance in his eyes. "Let's follow the thread and find out."

She shook her head, a small smile pulling at her before she looked back up, the amusement fading under the pressure of what they were facing. "Tom?"

"Hmm?"

"No more secrets between us."

He stared at her for a long moment before he set his fork down and reached out. She took his hand and he squeezed it. "No more secrets between us."

Notes: I know I talk a lot about how much I enjoy writing this, but this chapter was so much fun! I've missed the Keens together and it's killed me a little having to keep them apart, but good things are worth waiting for, I hope. An entire chapter focused on them.

This one was the chapter that gave me the most trouble with the season finale reveal. I had just finished writing it at the time and if anyone here follows my tumblr you probably saw me grumbling about it. Originally I'd written it with the idea that whatever was going to happen, whatever Red was hiding, was a much bigger deal to him than it was to Liz. I was anticipating and hoping for a reaction like S4's finale where they had a moment and she told him to stop being stupid. Then we found out Red isn't Red (something I was actually hoping against, but hey) and Liz's opinions changed and I had to adjust. The problem was that I needed Tom and Liz to end up in a spat in this chapter and I loved the idea of her wanting to go to Red with the eye despite everything, but that couldn't be done with her knowing he isn't who he says he is. So there was some adjusting and some thinking, and finally I settled on there being a lot of information Tom has to give her and, hey, at some point she gets distracted and brings him with her lol. Hopefully it flowed the way it needed to. I'd love to know what you guys think about this one :)

Next Time:Dumont takes a look at Navarro's eye, Howard gets himself into some trouble, and Tom and Liz go to the Post Office to fill the team in and ask for some help.

Chapter Text

Dumont DeSoto was everything Tom had described him as and Liz couldn't help but laugh as he regaled her with stories from the past year that she had been separated from her husband. Listening to Tom she could have easily believed Scottie and Howard had held him prisoner in a dungeon of some sort, but Dumont painted a little less menacing picture.

"So he was on a cane for what….?"

"Months," Tom grumbled from his corner.

Dumont grinned. "You see how that went."

"Oh, I've been with Tom through enough injuries that I know how that goes," Liz said with a grin, ignoring the look she received from her husband. "Taking it easy doesn't mean the same to him as it does to everybody else."

Tom glared over the files that they had picked up from the storage unit on the way over to the safe house. "Like you're any better."

"Yeah, but we're talking about you right now, babe."

Dumont snorted a laugh. "I like her. I think we should keep her around. Can you image her and Nez?"

"Trying not to."

"You won't get away with anything."

Liz couldn't stop the laugh at that one, watching Tom scowl a little at the thought. "I'd like to meet Nez. Tom said she helped save his life?"

"Oh yeah. She got into the ER and administered the drugs. Howard wouldn't trust anyone else."

"You guys took good care of him. Thank you."

Dumont looked up, a little startled by the soft thanks, and mumbled something that sounded like he was brushing it off as that's what you do for a teammate. He turned back to the project at hand and Liz leaned against the desk to get a better look. His computer program that was reading data off the eye, wires stretching out from it, gave a loud warning and he reached over.

"What was that?"

He looked up at her. "It's giving off a GPS signal."

He said it so casually that it took Liz a moment to catch up to it. "What?"

Tom was already on his feet. "GPS? They can follow that thing here?"

"Breathe, Tom-Tom. What do you take me for? An amateur? I blocked the signal first thing. It's not makin' its way out."

Tom seemed to relax at that, sinking back into his nook now that Garvey wasn't going to be knocking down their door.

Liz forced herself to relax as well. "Can you trace it back? Use it to find something useful?"

"Maybe. Still working on it."

She knew a dismissal when she heard one and Liz turned back towards Tom. He was focused on the notes in front of him and she inched over. She couldn't do a damn thing to help Dumont, but she could handle a good mystery. "Anything yet?" she ventured.

Tom didn't look up. "No. I've run the name through every database we have access to."

"Which is all of them," Dumont offered.

Liz lifted an eyebrow and Tom leaned back, waving a small file as he spoke. "It means it's been redacted somehow, which doesn't make sense. We have people that specialize in reversing redacted documents."

"You got nothing on the search?" Dumont asked, suddenly interested.

"No files found," Tom confirmed.

"Yeah, that's been wiped. Must have been at the top levels to be that thorough though. Whatcha looking for?"

"Oleander," Liz said, watching for a reaction.

Dumont shrugged. "Not something I've come across."

She pushed a long breath out through her nose. "If Halcyon wiped it, that means it's just in their systems. They can't wipe federal databases, right?"

"Well, probably not all of them."

"Reassuring," she grumbled.

"What are you thinking?" Tom asked and Liz found his gaze locked on her

"I'm thinking that your wife works for the FBI," she answered, her lips tipping up at the corners. "We can run the search without tipping anyone off."

"You'd have to tell them you're alive though," Dumont murmured thoughtfully.

"Ressler already knows. Cooper too, probably."

Liz turned to him. "When did you see Cooper?"

"I didn't, but Boy Scout-" she glared at him over the nickname and he pointedly ignored it- "was convinced he had to tell his boss."

"Are you okay with this?"

"Long as they keep it away from Reddington."

Liz's expression darkened. "We'll make sure of it."

"Good. You kids go play with the feds a while. I'll have somethin' for you by the end of the day."

"Is that your way of telling us to leave you to your work, Dumont?" Tom teased as he started gathering his files and Dumont grinned.

"Scram. And call if you need me."

"Will do, buddy."

She had been careful. For thirty years she had been meticulous in the way she covered her tracks and in the way she moved from one identity to another, never staying with one too long. She had no attachments, she had no roots. Every move was planned and guarded, and it had allowed her to stay alive and off of the Cabal's radar. Until now.

If she traced it back, Katarina thought her mistake was going to see Masha in the hospital. The first visit had been against her better judgement, but she had been drawn to her daughter for the first time in years, and she had been spotted by her federal agent partner. Donald Ressler had seen her face and now he was looking into her. The timing linked him with Prescott, but it made a mess of everything. It would continue to make a mess if she had to do away with him too.

Prescott wasn't one to give up information easily, but in his business that should be expected. Eventually she did find the link, and interestingly enough it connected Donald Ressler to Laurel Hitchin. Perhaps Christopher's faith in the fed was misplaced. He'd killed the woman and hired a fixer to cover it. It was better news than she had hoped for. A cop so easily put in a fixer's debt didn't have the Cabal to back him. He hadn't been sent by them to handle Hitchin. A fluke, bad timing, it really didn't matter. He could be useful now that she had every file to force his hand. A fed that had worked against them before could prove much more useful to track the Cabal than a fixer was any day.

Scottie had someone waiting to escort her up when she arrived at the New York offices and Katarina tried not to bristle too badly as she was frisked and told that she would be taken to the Hargraves. She avoided the cameras as best as she could and followed her escort to the elevator that took them all the way to the top of the skyscraper. She was released into a conference room, her escort leaving her there.

Pale blue eyes swept the room, finding that it looked almost lived in. Toys were scattered and there were childish drawings scrolled across the whiteboard and even the windows. In one of the oversized chairs at the long table sat a little girl who looked just like Masha had at her age with the exception of those dark blue eyes that must have come from her daddy. Those eyes were fixed on Katarina and she stood very still under the intense gaze.

"I thought you might want to meet your granddaughter," Scottie offered from her place at the head of the table. "Say hello, Agnes."

"Hi," the little girl said obediently.

"Hello," Katarina responded carefully, wondering what her old friend might be angling at.

"Did you find what you needed? Howard said that he was able to pull Nez away to help."

"I imagine you've already received a full report," Katarina answered and her daughter's daughter's eyes were still fixed on her.

Scottie offered a thin smile before turning to Agnes. "Sweetie, why don't you finish the movie that you started a little bit ago? The laptop is in the corner with the headset."

"I don't wanna watch the movie."

"Oh? What do you want to do then?"

"I wanna see Daddy. Can we go see Daddy?"

Scottie's amused expression gave way to a sadness. "Not just yet, sweetheart."

"When?"

"Soon. Right now the grown ups need to talk. Grandpa will be back from his meeting soon and he can take you to the park. How does that sound?"

"Can I feed the ducks?

"I'm sure we can work that out."

Agnes seemed to think on that for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

And just like that she slipped off her chair and settled in the corner with a set of what Katarina could only assume were noise cancelling headset in place.

"She's a little bargainer," the former KGB agent murmured.

"And she has a built in lie detector. It's impressive."

"She'll do well in the family business someday."

"I doubt Tom and Liz will let that happen. They're desperate to keep her away from all of this."

"It finds you," Katarina said softly. "No matter where you go, it always finds you."

Scottie made a small sound of acknowledgement. "Nez tells me you killed Prescott."

"He knew too much."

"Meaning that he saw your face?" She tilted her head, fidgeting with a pen between her long fingers. "Where does that leave Agent Ressler?"

"Chris worried about him?"

"Your daughter won't forgive you if you kill her friend. She's very protective over her team."

Katarina's lips stretched into a charming smile. "You put too much weight on what our children think about us. If they like us, if they hate us, that really doesn't matter." Her gaze drifted to the little girl in the corner. "What does matter is keeping them alive as best we can."

"Killing Agent Ressler won't keep Elizabeth safer," Scottie said pointedly. "All it does is protect you."

Katarina grinned at that. "Will it ease your mind if I tell you I won't lay a finger on the man?"

"Not particularly. I've known you too long to trust you, Kat."

Her smile faded just a little. "Then I'll say that I will keep Masha's feelings in mind while handling the situation."

Scottie nodded slowly. "You understand this is give and take, yes? Howard and I supplied you with the manpower to do this. We expect to be kept in the loop as to what you find."

"As soon as I find something worth sharing, you'll be the first to know. If that's all?"

"If it is," Scottie murmured, her tone tired.

It never was and both women knew that. They were checking in on each other, reminding the other of what was at stake in their own way. Katarina risked only the briefest glances at the child in the corner as she turned to leave. She'd done what she said: she had followed up after the op. She couldn't allow herself any additional distractions.

Whitehall was a nervous man, and Howard's alliance with Scottie had made him downright paranoid. He had missed the last check in and he wasn't picking up his burner. Either of them. It had started as a source of irritation, but the longer the scientist went without answering, the more of an issue that it became.

A call to Dumont and a sweep of Whitehall's credentials put him at a motel in Jersey and Howard turned down the offer to send someone ahead. He was already spooked, and if they came at him with the force of Halcyon he might go completely to ground. Or worse, he would refuse to work with Gramble to ensure Tom's medication remained in balance.

The last recorded ping on any of his cards had been just down from the motel at a coffee shop not five minutes before Howard's car pulled up. He redirected his approach and stepped out when he spotted the man sitting at a table outside the shop, sipping on his latte. He was watching for someone, but if it was someone that he was expecting or just a general paranoia, Howard couldn't be sure yet. He rounded into Whitehall's line of sight, but by that point it was too late for the other man to slip away.

Dark brown eyes watched him carefully as Howard flashed a charming smile. "May I?" he asked as he was already pulling the chair from where it had been tucked under the table.

"I'm meeting someone," the scientist countered.

"They'll have to wait. I'm the one that pays your bills and you've been ignoring my calls."

Whitehall risked a glance in either direction. "If they see you here…"

"If who sees me here, Richard?"

The other man's jaw tightened at that. "Consider this my resignation from Halcyon, Howard."

"If this is about Scottie-"

"Scottie, you, your boy… you're all on a collision course and I have no interest in going down with you."

Well that was interesting. "Who have you been talking to?"

"Not another word, Dr Whitehall."

Howard kept his movements smooth as he looked back around at the new voice, hoping to hide the way it had startled him. He found a woman standing there, her cool grey eyes locked on him. Between her perfectly tailored suit and the way that her blonde hair was pulled tightly against her head to tie in the back, he couldn't help but conjure a few of the images from stories that his father had told of occupied Poland. Howard had seen his share of enemies over the years to know one, especially when they stood out quite so boldly.

Her lips tilted in an uncomfortable way. "Mr Hargrave, I've heard so much about you. Won't you join us?"

Howard stood, pulling himself up to his full height and buttoning the front of his own suit jacket. "I'm afraid you'll need to make an appointment with my offices."

"I have."

"Oh?"

"Through Dr Whitehall. I always heard you didn't like to share your toys. Looks like the rumours are true."

"Who are you?"

She tilted her head a little. "Names don't matter. They're like snake skins that you shed as soon as you're done with them. You know a few people like that, don't you? Your wife being one, your father another."

"Then who do you work for?"

"That's the question you should be asking." Her smile stretched a little. "I'm an enforcer for an organisation that you know well, and they're not willing to go through your office to speak with you."

"I thought you had the stench of the Cabal all over you," he said with a smile more charming than the words should have warranted.

"We don't like that name," she said flatly and her gaze shifted. "I could tell you that the snipers positioned all around this block are for you, and they are, but don't think for an instant that we won't move on what's left of your family. Susan is a traitor with a longstanding hit on her just waiting to be called and I understand that your daughter-in-law sent sweet little Agnes to her grandparents to keep her safe."

"Your superiors used to know what they risked if they came up against Halcyon," Howard warned lowly.

"Halcyon couldn't even save your son twice over. What makes you think it'll protect you or anyone else?" She moved quickly enough that Howard didn't see the taser until it was too late. The jolt of electricity hit him hard and his knees gave way. Someone behind him caught him before he fell and supported his weight towards a car that had just parked on the curb. As he struggled to hang on to consciousness her words battered around in his mind, linking together questions and possible answers for what little good it would do him if they killed him that day.

Liz had called ahead to make sure that Reddington wasn't expected into the Post Office and that her team wasn't out on a case. Tom had sat in the the passenger seat of the car as she drove, quietly listening to the one-sided conversation as she stressed the importance of the the visit and what she needed to share with them. Dumont may have done some work on her line to be able to call out securely, but there was no guarantee that Garvey - or even the Cabal - hadn't gotten a tap on the Post Office's lines. It wouldn't have been the first time that someone had.

She pulled the SUV around into the parking garage just above the Post Office after providing her credentials to do so. She nodded at the guard at the door and he didn't stop them even when Tom ducked his head a little to keep the bill of his baseball cap in position to hide the majority of his face. They let him enter with her and he waited until the big, yellow, metal doors had clanged shut behind them and the lift jolted into action before he peeled it off.

"He wasn't going to recognize you. They've changed out all the guards. The first time I came back there were all new faces."

Tom glanced over and he saw the intentionally blank expression she was wearing. He'd lost so much time with his family, but so had she. Perhaps even more so by the fact that she'd slept through ten months of it. One minute things were normal and the next her world was upside down all over again. He reached over, his fingers brushing hers and she gave him a thin smile. "Better safe than sorry," she acknowledged. "I guess we never know which one of them is in Reddington's pocket."

A lopsided smile tilted his lips, but he didn't have a chance to respond as the lift came to a shuddering stop. He felt Liz squeeze his hand, both giving and taking reassurances all at once, and the doors opened.

While everything had changed, in a way nothing had too. The Post Office's war room that they emptied out into looked a lot like it had the last time Tom had come through it, with the exception of fewer feds flittering about. It was getting late and most of the staff had either gone home or were out on various assignments. There were familiar faces, though, and one of them turned to look directly at him.

Aram Mojtabai's elated expression quickly turned to shock as his jaw dropped, his eyes widening, and he stood slowly from his perch at his computer. "Tom?"

"Hey, Aram," Tom managed and he hated the feeling of guilt. It still wasn't something he was overly accustomed to, and certainly not outside of a very small circle of people, but Liz's team was family. They were his daughter's godparents and the ones that supported Liz when he couldn't. They had her back no matter what came down around them, and even if he hadn't planned this, hadn't tried to lie to them, the assumption was there. For everyone. Ressler had certainly believed that he set everything up. It wasn't a surprise that Aram would too.

The technician let out a shuddering breath as he ghosted his way across the war room and towards them. Tom stood still, not sure exactly what was about to happen, and suddenly found himself being dragged into a hug. After half a beat of surprise he returned it, a soft chuckle escaping him as he patted Aram on the back. "Hey," he said again and Aram seemed to take that as the signal to let go.

He pulled back, shock still resting on his features. "Mr Cooper said, but….. wow. You're really here. You're really okay. You're okay right?"

That finally pulled a real smile from the younger man. "Yeah, I'm getting there."

"We haven't had a chance to hear the full story." Samar's voice drew his attention to where she stood with her arms crossed and her expression guarded.

"And I'm sure we will," Cooper said as he made his way down the stairs from his office, Donald Ressler in tow. "Good to see you, Tom."

"Kinda nice to be seen," he answered with a shrug. "When the Hargraves decide to keep survival a secret, they go all the way."

"Is Halcyon going to be a problem?" Cooper asked.

Liz shook her head. "Scottie and Howard are a lot of things, but they saved Tom's life and they've been able to uncover some intel that we couldn't."

"Agent Ressler was just telling us," Aram said, scurrying back to his desk and his fingers flew across his keyboard as he spoke. "I've been doing some research on this Ian Garvey - don't worry, I did a full security sweep before I did - and he's had several reports filed against him with IA, but nothing's stuck. For a dirty cop, he's kept his nose pretty clean."

"That's because Garvey has ties with the Cabal," Tom said bluntly and the war room fell silent. His dark blue eyes moved around the room, making quick assessment of each reaction. They had fought this enemy once before and it had nearly cost them everything.

"When did you get that piece of information?" Ressler asked, his voice bordering on accusatory.

"Solomon took a bullet to get it," Tom countered.

Liz took a small step forward, her motion pulling the attention around to her. "A lot's happened. Tom and I have been compiling what we've each found out about Garvey and about the Cabal, but there's a lot we still don't know, and that's what we're trying to find out."

Cooper nodded from his place. "You made it very clear you didn't want Reddington involved in this meeting. Why?"

"Because he's at the center of all of this," Tom answered carefully. They'd discussed just how much to share on the way over there. The Task Force needed to be brought in on Garvey and the Cabal. Their safety was at risk just as much as the Keens were, but to tell them everything was a risk in and of itself that might put them into more danger. Reddington had been lying to them, to Liz, and to everyone, and that was information that the Concierge of Crime had killed over. They couldn't be sure what the body count was but Tom was sure that Sam had died to keep that secret and that it had been the real reason behind Reddington taking the shot that was supposed to have killed Kate Kaplan, which in turn had led them down this path. Letting that secret go was going to need to be managed carefully. They both knew that, but keeping it too close could cause just as much trouble. Tom had promised to trust Liz's instincts on it. She knew everything now and this was her team. It would be her call how much she divulged and to whom the information went to.

"How so?"

Dark blue eyes flickered over to the Deputy Director of the FBI, but it was Liz that spoke. "He's still after the bag that Garvey took when he attacked Tom and me. It's a secret that Reddington wants kept badly enough to kill for it."

"But not you. Mr Reddington wouldn't hurt you," Aram argued, his voice bordering on a nervous laugh.

"Just everyone that I love," she said firmly and the implication was clear enough.

"So what do you want from us?" Samar asked.

"In part to loop you in," Tom said, catching the Mossad operative's gaze and holding it for a moment. "The more we uncover, the more twisted it gets, and it's going to come crashing down eventually. We just want to figure out what's coming before it does. Maybe even get ahead of it to stop it."

"Alright," Cooper said, nodding back to his office. "I think it's time you filled me in. Agent Keen?"

Liz glanced back at Tom just a moment before she nodded and followed Cooper back up the stairs and into his office behind closed doors.

"Tom, if you've got a second?" Ressler said, and the dark haired man finally looked back around.

"Sure." He followed Ressler around to his and Liz's office, and he could feel Samar's gaze on him even as he passed through the door and the ginger agent turned to close it behind them. "How much do they know?"

"The basics: Howard saved your life and you just got back out into the field and have been looking for Liz."

"You told all of them?"

"No, I told you I'd only speak to Cooper. I keep my word," Ressler said pointedly and Tom smirked a little.

"I know you do. So what's up?"

Ressler pulled in a deep breath and turned going for a locked drawer in his desk. The key turned and the drawer popped open, allowing him access to a file that he had tucked away in there. He didn't put it down, though, but instead he turned a look on Tom that was much more guarded than it had been before. "I need you to be honest with me on something, Tom. No dancing around it, no half truths. If you can't, tell me now."

"Ressler-" He swallowed his argument as the FBI agent's expression shifted, that guarded mask cracking to reveal the struggle underneath. He had known something was up since their trip to Alaska, but exactly what that meant he still didn't know. He'd offered to help him before. He had to give trust to get it. "Okay."

"Did you do something to Prescott? Or have something to do with him dropping off the face of the planet?"

The name hit hard, jerking back memories of a woman in his mother's office that had had claimed to be the one Howard had called to help him fake Tom's death. "Henry Prescott?"

Ressler loosed a shaky breath. "Hell, Tom… What did you do?"

"Nothing. I swear. Scottie called me a couple of days ago and introduced me to a woman that was asking about you. She dropped the name Henry Prescott, but I hadn't heard of it. She said he was a fixer that you had called."

"What did you tell her?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment, Ressler becoming more anxious with each passing second that Tom didn't answer. Finally he loosed a breath. "Just that you're a good cop and there was no connection."

Ressler looked like a man that had kept a painful secret too long and the weight was finally doing him in. He stared at Tom for a long moment, his gaze a little desperate and his fingers closing in around the file between them. He swallowed hard, tossing it down on the desk. "Is that her?"

Tom reached for it without a word, flipping it open to reveal a photo of the woman who had called herself Katherine Nichols. There was another name attached to the file though. This one was Katherine Mills, and as he flipped through the photos he saw a few other names. Natalie Vanderbilt, Amanda Thompson, Martha Catchings….

"Those are just the ones I've been able to link in the system so far. No criminal records attached to any of them and all I know is that Prescott met with her and wanted me to find her."

"Then you are in his pocket." Tom regretted the words as soon as they'd left his lips and he looked up at Ressler. "I'm not judging you."

"I am."

"What happened?"

"A mistake. They took my badge a while back after an incident. It was brief, but Hitchin-"

"She was with the Cabal, right?" Tom asked, relatively sure he knew the face that belonged with the name.

"Yeah. She was trying to use the situation to control me, she grabbed for me, I pulled away and…. It all happened so fast, but she fell and hit her head. She was dead within seconds and I was the only one there."

The question of why he would have jumped to call a cleaner died in Tom's throat. Panic. Panic made good people do stupid things. Not that calling a cleaner was necessarily the wrong move, but obviously the one he'd called had gotten him into more trouble than he'd started with.

"Prescott figured out who I was, my connection to the FBI, and he… fabricated evidence to make sure I'd stick around. He's been calling in favours since. Tracking down this woman was one of them. Who is she? You said Scottie knew her."

"She called herself Nichols when I met her. Said she was the one that helped Howard fake my death." Tom flipped through the last of the files, finally coming across an older photo that forced him to stop. The readout only called it a partial match, but it was the puzzle piece he had needed to make it make sense. "Holy crap," he breathed.

"What?"

Tom held up the photo of the woman that looked to be a good twenty years younger than the one that he'd met recently. "Did a name come back for this one?"

"No. Why? You recognize her?"

A knock startled them both and Liz poked her head in. "Hey, I've filled Cooper in. He's going to look into Oleander for us and see what he can find."

"There's more," Tom said tightly and waved her in. Liz shut the door behind her and he held the photo out. "Tell me that doesn't look like the photo we were trying to track down a few years ago. A little older, but that's her."

From the look on his wife's face he knew that she saw the same thing he did.

"Who is she?" Ressler pushed again and the Keens both looked up at him, Liz's voice small as she answered.

"This is my mother. This is Katarina Rostova."

Notes: My beta likes to tease me over my cliffhangers because I do love them, and I managed two in this chapter. :D

Next Time: Tom and Liz receive a surprise visitor, Scottie makes plans to rescue Howard, and Reddington receives some shocking news.

Chapter Text

There had been something familiar in Scottie's redheaded colleague when he had met her, but at the time his focus had been on Liz and on finding her. Looking at the photo that Ressler had uncovered, Tom wondered how he had been able to miss it after all the hours he and Liz had spent a few years before trying to track the woman on the swing. That photo had even been framed in their house. He shouldn't have missed it, no matter how distracted he had been.

Finding Katarina was like finding a piece of the puzzle that showed just how many more they were still missing. Her involvement opened up too many questions about secrets and loyalties, especially with Scottie and Howard, and that left them questioning where all three fell in terms of Reddington.

"Do you think she's told him?"

Tom was pulled out of his thoughts by his wife's voice and glanced over to the driver's seat. "Reddington?"

"Yes."

He leaned back against his head rest. "She's working with my parents and they've been against letting him know I'm alive since the beginning."

Liz nodded, turning down the street and towards their apartment. "How do you think they all know each other? We're either of your parents involved with the KGB?"

Tom considered the idea for a moment, careful not to let himself jump to conclusions. "No. I don't think so. Howard talked about growing up in Communist-occupied Poland and his family got out as soon as they could. Changed their name and moved here when he was a kid. He's never done or said anything to make me think there'd be a connection there."

"And Scottie? It might make sense why he didn't trust her for a while…. if he found out."

"Maybe," Tom said quietly, memories of Howard trying to convince him that the woman he'd married had been replaced by a sleeper agent out of Russia. If she had been KGB, if she had worked with Katarina Rostova, that leap didn't seem as far fetched as it had at the time. He loosed a long breath and leaned back against the headrest, feeling the day weigh on him. They were in a waiting pattern until Cooper was able to uncover what the FBI had on Oleander, but it wasn't like they didn't have enough questions to work through before they got there.

Liz pulled the vehicle to a stop outside of their building, no street parking in sight. "Why don't you head up and I'll find a place?"

He shot her an amused look. "I'm fine."

"Did I say you weren't?"

Tom shot her a frustrated look but didn't argue it any further as he unfolded from the SUV. The episode he had had their first night back together had made her nervous. He could feel her watching when she thought he wasn't looking and trying to gauge if he was pushing too hard or not up to what they were doing. It had been been a long time since she had worried over him like this. Soon, when this was over, maybe they could take a few lazy days before the next terrible thing cropped up. It would do them both some good.

He fished the key Liz had given him out of his pocket and turned it in the lock. Almost immediately he heard it: someone stepping on their one squeaky board as they moved across the room. Tom drew his gun and steadied himself for what he might find in the living room. He was done hiding in his own home.

"Hands up," he growled as he came around the corner, gun aimed at their intruder.

Detective Norman Singleton froze where he was, pad of paper in one hand and pencil in the other. The pencil slipped from his fingers as he gaped, wide-eyed at the man with the gun trained on him. "You're…. you're Tom Keen."

Tom didn't confirm the statement, but instead let his gaze shift to the pad still loose in one hand. He reached forward, desperately trying to will his hand to remain steady. "Hand it over."

"You're dead," the homicide detective managed. "The Deputy Director of the FBI ID'd your body."

"What are you doing in my home?" When he didn't receive a direct response to either the demand or the question Tom reached forward and snagged the notebook. He had been copying Liz's research. He tossed it aside and steadied his hold on his weapon, adjusting his aim. "You better talk fast, Detective, or I'm going to think there's more than one dirty cop wrapped up in all of this."

That seemed to spark something. "Then there is somebody. You know who attacked you, don't you?"

Tom's lips twitched downward at the question and he set his jaw.

"And there's no guarantee you're not working with him."

Tom didn't flinch at Liz's voice to his right, but Singleton did, his dark gaze immediately darting over to where she was making her way into the apartment, her weapon drawn as well. He shook his head, a mirthless chuckle escaping him. "You know, I was starting to think you had something to do with this, Agent Keen. Between Navarro and the way you kept pushing me out of the investigation, I knew you were a woman with something to hide. Guess you were."

Tom risked a glance at Liz and saw her expression shift. Neither of them had come to a definite opinion about the detective, but in that moment he could see all the signs that she was making a judgement call. When her gaze flickered to him he offered the barest of nods. He trusted her instincts.

She lowered her gun, the movement slow and purposeful and Tom followed her lead. Singleton let his hands drop to his side. "I guess the first question is how."

"Not why?" Tom asked, his head tilting just a little as he studied the other man.

"Well, assuming a dirty cop really did try to kill you, I think that covers the why you wouldn't want him to know you're alive. I think I'll stick with how."

"I'd be asking who before how," Liz said tightly.

"Says the woman that's known her husband wasn't six feet under, but okay. Let's go with the second question. I think the same guy you've been after is the same one my boss and our team has been after for a year. He has ties to the Nash Syndicate and inside information into what our task force is after. Every time we uncover a lead it runs dry." Singleton's gaze shifted to Tom. "Who is he? What were you in the middle of that put you in his crosshairs?"

Intel didn't come free and Singleton seemed to understand that. Tom finally holstered his weapon. "The syndicate's a means to an end for him," he said carefully, watching the detective's expression carefully. "Garvey's in deeper than you could know."

Singleton paled at that. "Garvey? Ian Garvey tried to kill you?" he choked out and he looked like he might tip over for just a moment. "Okay. The why makes even more sense."

"How about that cup of coffee, Detective?" Liz offered, moving past them.

"Got anything stronger?"

Tom met his wife's gaze and his lips tilted upward. "I think we're gonna need it."

Howard came around slowly, his head aching and the lights doing nothing to help it. He'd been knocked unconscious, maybe even drugged, but when he wasn't sure. He squeezed his eyes closed, and tried to focus. He was strapped to his seat, wrists securely fastened to the armrests and ankles to the legs of the chair. The room was decently lit but bare, with no visible windows from where he sat. Maybe a closet of an unfinished office space or an interior room of a warehouse. It was hard to tell from this angle. How he had gotten there was the question that mattered though.

He remembered leaving Halcyon's headquarters and promising to take Agnes out to a little park just down the way as soon as he got back. He had left to find Richard Whitehall after he had ghosted. That was right. He had tracked him down to a café where he had been waiting for…. Howard groaned. That was it. He had been taken by a Cabal enforcer. Pretty thing. Blonde. Brutal, if the way his jaw ached was any indication. Memories worked their way back into place through the pounding headache and he grimaced against them. He wasn't sure if they had used Whitehall to get to him or if they had just taken advantage of a lucky break. Either way he was in a mess.

The door to the room opened and revealed the woman that had identified herself as the enforcer. She gave him a pretty smile that must have worked well for her in her business. "Mr Hargrave. Comfortable?"

Howard flexed his fingers, his lips tilting up. "It's a bit stuffy in here. Maybe a room with a window or-"

The blow wasn't unexpected and his head whipped around. It didn't drive the smirk from him, though, and he turned piercing eyes on the woman. "You're young, so I don't expect you know the details of the last time the Cabal tried this number on me. It didn't work then and it won't work now."

"Is that a challenge, Mr Hargrave?"

"A warning that whatever you think you'll gain here, you won't."

"We'll see. I have Whitehall, I have you, and I know the secret you want to keep the most."

"Dear, I run an international intelligence company. There's no end to the secrets I want to keep."

Her smile was chilling. "What about the one having to do with your son?"

If the Cabal hadn't killed him yet, Scottie would. For all of his intelligence, for all of the hard lessons that he should have already learned, Howard could be reckless to the point of self destruction. It drove her mad.

Dumont had been the one to call her, and it had taken a bit to coax the full story out of him. Howard had had their leading tech expert on Whitehall's trail, never mentioning the fact that he might be missing to Scottie. He hadn't bothered with back up or any other precautions either. He probably thought he had it all under control and now he'd been taken and put her in a bind. It was no wonder he wanted to keep this quiet. The board would be nervous if they knew their lead scientist had ghosted, but if Howard had just trusted her with this, she could have had his back. She could have protected him.

Now, though, she had to handle this quietly. Finding him wasn't going to be the hard part. Extracting him was, and she needed help. Unlike her husband, she had no interest in running into a situation entirely unprepared and without support.

The phone rang in her ear and she waited. One, two, three, and finally there was a cluck at silence. "Kat," she greeted.

"I'm busy," came the tight response.

"I need your help."

"That's nice."

She hated these moods. "Howard's been taken."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and it lasted long enough that Scottie wondered if the call had been dropped. Finally she heard her old friend loose a breath. "The Cabal?"

"That's a fair bet. They took off with Whitehall and Howard was shortsighted enough to follow without backup."

"I'll help you on one condition."

That didn't sound good. Katarina had been pushing since the beginning of this madness for both Hargraves to be on the same side, but now that there was real trouble she wanted to pull favours.

"Call your son off of his current trail."

There was a beat of silence as Scottie processed the request. "What?"

"He's looking for an old spy called Oleander. If he and Masha find him-"

Scottie snorted. "Every time we try to stop them from uncovering one of the secrets any of us have it only drives them harder to it."

"You think I should let them?"

"I think you should get ahead of it. Masha will take the news better coming from you - choosing to be honest with her - than if she and Christopher follow down the evidence."

"She can't find out," Katarina said firmly.

"She will, and none of us can stop that no matter how many stumbling blocks we put in their way."

"And have you and Howard told Chris about how you two met? About why you've fought so hard to make Halcyon something the Cabal fears?"

Scottie's thin lips twitched down and she heard Katarina laugh on the other end.

"If you're unwilling to help me, I'm unwilling to help you. I'm sure you'll think of something."

The line went dead and Scottie resisted the urge to throw it. Instead she reached up, trying to massage the oncoming headache away before dialing another number. She didn't need Katarina. She didn't need the board's approval. She just needed a path in and some backup. "Nez, I need your help. Something's happened with Howard."

Singleton had the potential to be a wealth of information once they were all on the same page. Or at least on the same side. Liz didn't miss how careful Tom was as he spoke to the other man, only releasing enough of the story to gain trust and receive information in return.

It was late when he finally left out and Liz took a heavy seat next to her husband on the couch after locking the door. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned in, reveling in the momentary feeling of safety with him. They didn't move and didn't speak for several long moments and she wondered if he had dozed off. He had been exhausted before Singleton appeared in their home.

"I keep turning it all over in my head," he said after a long moment.

"What's that?"

"Why. Why would he lie about who he was and why would he need to get close to you?"

Liz thought about the question that had plagued her in some shape or form for over five years now and inched in a little closer, feeling his fingers drift over her arm in a soothing motion. "He's told me that it has to do with my father."

"Do you think he killed him?"

She shook her head and pieces of memories flashed. "Not directly. I still remember the gun going off, of someone crumbling to the floor. I think it was my father." She shook her head, the fractured memories playing out across her mind's eye. "Reddington said once…. that my mother was never the same because I killed the man she loved. I don't know if I can trust that, or anything that he's said now."

Tom turned, pressing a kiss to the side of her head and Liz reached for his free hand. He took hers instantly and she felt the the support he was always so quick to give her. He was tired and worn down - he had been before Singleton showed up - but there he was willingly giving her whatever he had left.

"Liz?"

She blinked hard and found that she had been deeper in her thoughts than she realised. She leaned in and squeezed his fingers. "Reddington has taken so much from me. I don't think I know how much yet, but he did one thing for me. Even if he didn't mean to." She looked up to see his confused expression. "He hired you."

Tom's lips tilted slowly up and he leaned down, not seeming to care about the awkward angle. "I'm not going to let anyone else try to take you," she swore softly. "They can't take you from me. Not Garvey or Reddington or anyone else. I won't let them."

"I wouldn't bet against you," her husband chuckled, pulling her in. "We'll protect each other."

She hummed a soft affirmative, feeling his long fingers working their way through her hair. At this rate they weren't going to make it to bed, but if they fell asleep on the couch they would regret it in the morning.

Her phone buzzed on the table, forcing the decision. Tom moved first. "I think that's our cue, babe."

Liz groaned dramatically as he stood and she watched him for half a beat as he shuffled towards the bedroom to give her privacy if she needed it for the call. Finally she stood, moving to try to catch the call before it rolled to voicemail. "Keen."

"Liz, I hope I didn't wake you."

She blinked, startled by the voice she hadn't expected to hear until the next day. "Just caught us, sir. Did you find him?"

"I did," Harold Cooper acknowledged. "I wanted to give you and Tom a chance to swing by tonight for it if you wanted to. Otherwise I'll be in first thing."

He had found Oleander. Liz's first inclination was to tell him they'd be there in just a few minutes, but she swallowed the words before they could escape. It was late and Tom was worn down. If she went, he'd be right there with her if he should be or not. She had promised to watch her husband's back, and part of that was not putting him in positions to push himself too far, and she had seen what happened when he did. No, the safer option would be to get a good night's sleep and hit it fresh first think in the morning.

"Elizabeth?"

"Sorry," Liz said, her voice dropping a little lower. "That's okay. It's late and we all need some rest."

"I'll see you both first thing in the morning then."

The line clicked off and Liz loosed a breath. It was the right call.

"Everything okay?" Tom's voice drew her attention as he rounded out of the bedroom and into the hall, still tugging his t-shirt down into place.

"Yeah," she answered and a smile tugged at her. He was there with her, alive and mostly well. Nothing was worth risking that. "Just Cooper. He found Oleander."

Dark blue eyes widened a bit. "Then the name was wiped from Halcyon's databases. Let me put my jeans back on and we can-"

"I told him we'd get the information in the morning. It's late."

"Liz, we have no idea how time sensitive the lead is."

"A few hours of sleep isn't going to make the difference," she said firmly.

A small smile played out on his face and he moved to cover the distance between them. "You know you sound like you're convincing yourself too, right?"

She could help but echo the expression as she looped her arms around his middle, her fingers loosely laced behind his back and she looked up at him. "We're both exhausted. It can wait."

Tom nodded after a moment, leaning down to steal a kiss. "Okay."

That settled she released him long enough to move into the bedroom and to get dressed. He had already turned down the bed and was crawling in, confirming that she had made the right call as he all but collapsed onto his side.

"You're phone is ringing again," he grumbled into the pillow.

Liz reached for where she had set it down on the bedside table to get dressed. Nick's Pizza flashed across the caller ID and she hit decline. "Reddington. He can definitely wait until morning."

She saw Tom smile as she slipped into the bed with him, scooting closer so that they could hold each other as they fell asleep. She settled in, focusing on each inhale and exhale of breath and the steady beating of his heart. She would protect him. No matter what came their way, they would protect each other.

The Hargraves had scrubbed their systems clean of anything linked to Katarina Rostova years before. It had been a move of self preservation as much as it had been to protect her. It still served the same end result that Oleander wouldn't have turned up if Christopher had run a search, but with Masha jumping into it, it was only a matter of time before the FBI led her to a man that called himself Dom Wilkinson. If that happened there was no telling what secrets that they could uncover, and not just her own. Perhaps Scottie was right. Perhaps it all would come out eventually, but in that moment Katarina still had a way to head it off if she moved quickly enough. She hadn't survived this long by giving in.

The last time she had seen him was by Masha's bedside, but he had been half drunk and dozing in and out to the point that he had thought she was a dream. It had worked in her favour and she had let him think that. At the time he could do nothing for her. Now he was the one person that could get to her father without tipping him off that she was alive.

Raymond always did prefer the finer things in life, even before he had taken the name. He had class and charm, but he had lost the naïveté that had made him so easy to manipulate. Years on the run would do that to anyone, she supposed, but it didn't make it impossible. It was a risk, she knew. She had let him believe she was dead along with everyone else, and he had always felt as if he should have been different. He had always wanted to be different, to be more to her than just another useful tool. She had known few men that could hold a grudge quite like he could, and she had to make sure to work the situation in her favourite quickly.

He wasn't staying at a hotel. Instead her sources - and for a dead woman she had many of those - told her he was in a penthouse at the top of a high rise. How he had swung that was anybody's best guess, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting to him and working out their plan.

The security downstairs wasn't his and they were easy enough to slip by. She made her way upstairs and down the exceptionally long hallway to the door at the end. She stopped there, stalling out just before knocking. He was special. That was the dangerous, dirty little secret she kept. Of all her marks she had had in her career, he was the one that lingered with her more than any of the others. Not Masha's father, not Constantine, but the man that so many had called Red. It made him dangerous, but these were desperate times. She knocked.

There was a long moment and Katarina thought perhaps he was out. She reached into her purse for her set of lock picks, but the door opened abruptly and a large black man stood with a gun on her. "You must be Dembe," she murmured smugly, but his expression didn't change. Instead he only motioned her inside.

Raymond was sitting in a chair at the head of the dining table like a king waiting to accept subject into his presence. She stepped in, the gun still on her, and she saw that he was working on a puzzle, breakfast put away to the side and his steaming cup of coffee showing he hadn't been done long. His expression was purposely focused. If he had known she was on her way up she couldn't be sure, but he had certainly known she was at the door and had managed to compose himself. "Did you visit her often?" he asked without looking up.

"A few times," Katarina answered honestly.

Raymond hummed in response, looking for his next puzzle piece. "You've been dead for so long that I had finally accepted it."

"I've been many things, Raymond." There was a small twitch there. Guilt. It looked strange on him and Katarina started towards him.

"That's far enough," Dembe said firmly, but Raymond waved him off, finally gracing them with his attention as he looked up.

"Of all the reasons Katarina Rostova would come out of hiding, killing me wouldn't make the list. What are you here for?"

There was something in those blue eyes of his that struck a chord with her. She hadn't seen it under the drunken, dazed expression months before, but now he couldn't hide it, or at least not from her. This had weighed on him in ways none of them could have predicted. That couldn't matter at the moment, though. She needed him at his best. "We have a problem."

"It's we, is it?"

"The Cabal isn't dead and gone and they're still looking for a way to put their Twenty Year Plan into action."

"Fitch and Kotsiopoulos are both gone."

"I'm aware, but they had others."

"And you think I have information on this."

"No, I think you've done what you needed to to keep your head off the chopping block after Masha made the Fulcrum irrelevant." She watched his chin tilt up a little. He was listening. "Hitchin was a fool that never truly got to lead them, but someone has taken her place. They're tying into resources and building power. One of those resources is someone that has something you want. Ian Garvey."

That sparked a reaction. "And you believe our interests are aligned?"

"They should be, but I'm not quite ready to trust you in that," she answered with a cool smile and leaned her hip against the table, forcing him to look up at her if he wished to make eye contact. "I have others that are in a better position to help me take the Cabal down once and for all."

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't need something."

She tilted her head. "Masha has been following a trail that could lead to Oleander."

That caught Raymond's attention, but just as quickly as it had snapped, the mask of calm fell back into place. "Elizabeth is a talented agent, but Dom won't say anything."

"It's less what he'll say and more what they would find," Katarina pressed.

"They?" Raymond echoed. He didn't know about Christopher. That much was becoming clear. For all his spies, for all his resources, the Hargrave boy had managed to slip through them somehow.

Katarina's smile was easy enough. "She and her husband are hellbent on unraveling everything."

Raymond shook his head. "Tom is dead. Garvey killed him."

"Garvey tried to, but he does have a very stubborn father."

She watched that calm expression tighten. "That's impossible. Not even Howard has that power."

"He employees some of the sharpest minds in technology and medicine," she said pointedly and they both knew Howard well enough to know what that meant. "Tom Keen is alive, and between the two of them they are stubborn enough to uncover certain secrets that you'd rather have left buried."

"No," Raymond managed as he stood, the puzzle entirely forgotten by this point. Katarina felt a rare tug of worry as he met her eyes. "If Tom's alive, then Elizabeth already knows."

Notes: And now Reddington knows.... anyone want to wager a guess as to a reaction?

Next Time: Liz and Tom follow their lead to Oleander.

Chapter Text

Oleander was an old Russian spy out of the Soviet Union. From what Cooper had uncovered there were potential ties back to a man named Dominic Wilkinson. The CIA had dropped the case against him decades earlier due to lack of evidence, but in Liz's experience that hardly proved him as innocent.

Tom had gotten the name Oleander during his search into the bones. He had followed the trail to Albert Dennison who had told him to find Oleander just after Reddington had shot the bound man at point blank range to silence yet another person that might have a link to his secret. The body count was building at this point. Sam, Kate, Dennison, and nearly Tom. Those were just the people she knew about. There were likely many more.

"Okay, I hear you, but that sounds like the opposite of under control."

Liz glanced over to the passenger seat of her vehicle where her husband sat, phone pressed to his ear and not bothering to keep the frustration from his voice. Whatever Scottie was saying on the other end didn't sound good.

"No, I get that the board would make it a spectacle, but Solomon's still benched isn't he? Nez can't take this in by herself. She-" Tom glanced over towards Liz and she slowed down, looking for a place to pull over. They couldn't risk tipping their hand with Oleander if they were about to have to turn around and go help with something else. She tried to keep the frustration from her expression. They were so close, but Tom wouldn't sound like he was about to offer to go in and backup Nez himself if it wasn't a dire situation. Liz met his gaze and he covered the mic on the phone. "Howard's been taken."

Liz found a place to pull over and listened.

"I know that that's what Grey Matters is there for," her husband said tightly. "But she needs a partner to have her back in the field." There was a pause and Liz saw him slouch in his seat, massaging at the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay, just let me know?" He barely pressed the end button before tossing the phone onto the dash and leaning back against the seat hard.

"Do we need to go help?" Liz asked hesitantly.

"No. She says she has it under control."

"Do you think she does?"

His dark blue gaze shifted to look at her. "Scottie's good. Even with odds against her she'll put something together. It's the fact that she called at all that had me questioning her. She just…. wanted to be open with me. Let me know about Howard."

Liz cracked the smallest of smiles, no mirth making its way into the tilt. "A little honesty makes you suspicious?"

"It's Scottie," he countered.

"I know. It's not like she has the best track record." She closed her eyes and reached over. Tom immediately took it and she squeezed his fingers. "It's your call. Say the word and we'll turn around and go help Scottie rescue Howard."

She watched the struggle play out on his face before he shook his head. "No. We need to find out what Oleander knows and we've lost too much time already."

Liz tightened her hold. "Maybe she really is trying, Tom."

He snorted and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers. "Maybe."

"It's probably too much to hope Katarina isn't going to be just as crazy and secretive, huh?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood and she didn't miss the smirk her husband shot her as she put the vehicle back into gear.

"Considering no one's willing to admit she's involved, yeah."

"Who would have thought we'd be the most normal ones?"

Tom snorted but didn't answer, his gaze turning to the road ahead of them. He had to be conflicted. Liz knew she would be, and as frustrating as the Hargraves were, they were his parents. They loved him, even if they didn't always express it well. Howard had been willing to do anything to save Tom's life. It was complicated, just like everything in their lives.

"I think I should go in alone," Liz said as she turned down the road that should lead down to the house.

"Liz-"

"It'll give you a chance to search the property."

They pulled into the long driveway. He didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Alright. Just be careful, alright?"

"You too." She leaned over the console and he met her halfway, the kiss quick but it was a promise between them. She watched Tom open the passenger door, tucking his gun and phone away as he did, and start off for what looked like an old garage. She forced herself to look away and back to the house. He would be fine. She just needed to focus on her end and he would be alright.

Liz forced herself out of the SUV and towards the front door. She rapped her knuckles against the wood and waited until she saw an old man shuffling through the distorted glass. He pulled the door open and he certainly didn't look like a former KGB operative. "Dominic Wilkinson? I'm Special Agent Elizabeth Keen, FBI. I have a few questions for you."

Tom Keen was alive. Somehow against the odds, against everything he had known was true for over a year, Tom Keen had survived the brutal attack Garvey had leveled against him. Reddington had been there. He had seen the amount of blood the younger man had lost, seen the wounds. Harold Cooper had ID'd his body. Reddington had made sure. He had needed to be sure. It wasn't that he had felt any joy in telling Elizabeth that the man she had loved was dead, but Tom's death had meant at least a temporary reprieve from the looming possibility of Elizabeth learning his secret.

So he thought. If Tom was alive, if he was with Liz, that meant she knew. If she didn't, she would soon, and things had become much more complicated than before.

He hated moving into damage control. Reddington had mobilized a few options to help with that, including one that Katarina had presented to him. In return he had agreed to go to Dom personally to relocate him. Even if Elizabeth knew that he was not her father, Dom knew things about both Red and Katarina that needed to be left well enough alone. In return, Katarina had offered information to allow him to set up his next moves. They always had worked well together.

"Did you know she was alive?"

Dembe's soft question from the driver's seat drew Reddington's attention. "No. I… suspected from time to time, but I'd never found anything concrete."

"You never looked."

"No," Reddington admitted quietly.

"She will think you kept this from her."

"Perhaps. Tom certainly won't be the one to talk her out of that."

"This is not Tom's fault." There was a pause, and even though Dembe's gaze remained on the road, Reddington could feel it on him somehow. "You should have told her. It would have been better coming from you."

There were days that Reddington desperately wanted to ask whose side he was on, but even as the thought flittered across his mind he knew the answer. His. There was no one more loyal to him than Dembe, even when there was a difference of opinion. "Tom should have kept his nose out of it. It wasn't any of his business."

Dembe didn't answer and Reddington frowned as they turned towards Dom's home. Elizabeth's vehicle sat in the driveway. It was parked, the engine shut off and no one visible inside as they pulled in behind it, blocking the black SUV in. "Raymond."

Reddington followed the direction that Dembe had nodded and saw movement in the garage. It was impossible to tell who it was from their vantage point, even if he could make an educated guess. It was time to see where they landed in all of this and just how much damage Tom had managed to do before he had been found out.

The Concierge of Crime reached for the door with one hand and his hat that was resting on the bench seat with the other. He fit it into place and pulled lightly on the rim as Dembe moved around the car and to his side. He didn't say anything, and for that Reddington was eternally grateful. He needed to assess and see where they stood. Once he knew that he would know how much pressure needed to be applied to bring the situation to heel. He'd been fool enough to take his eyes off of Tom Keen before and he was paying the price now. He might not be able to take him out of the equation permanently, but he could control him. Soon he would have what he needed to do that. Elizabeth wouldn't like it, but if they were all going to make it out alive, they would need to trust him to do what he did best: control the board and come out on top.

The house was in the middle of nowhere, far from prying eyes and curious neighbors. He supposed that made sense for a retired KGB operative, or at least it would have if he had ever known an operative to make it to retirement. In his experience they never made it that far. He had tried. Several times he had tried, but something always pulled him back in. Teaching jobs falling through to keep them from moving, would-be fathers kidnapping them all and taking their daughter from them, or Reddington dragging him headlong into something. It usually came back to Reddington, and Tom would have loved to blame all their problems on the man, but he hadn't had anything to do with Howard pulling him into two months worth of investigation into Scottie. At least not as far as he knew. It was Reddington and he had his hands in everything. That was part of the problem.

Tom pushed a long breath out his nose as he surveyed the piles of junk stored away there. Whoever this Oleander was, he had somehow managed to live a life after he got out. There were drawings done by a child, board games, and old toys stored away. Tom pulled a smaller box that had been tucked away between two large game boxes and found a roll undeveloped film there. He moved over to the window and held it up to the light, catching shadows of what looked like a child and adult. He wasn't sure if time had damaged it too much, but between Dumont and Aram someone would be able to turn up something.

A sound drew his attention and he shoved the film back into the box as carefully as he could, slipping it into the inner pocket of his coat. Someone was coming.

Tom slipped around to use one of the shelves as a wall between him and the entry into the garage, pulling his gun from its holster. He waited, tense, and he could hear what sounded like two men making their way towards him. There was a long moment and the newcomers weren't trying to hide their presence. They knew someone was there, and they were blocking the one exit he had. So much for quietly investigating. He flexed his fingers against his gun, willing his hands to steady for him.

"Tom."

He felt a chill pass through him at the sound of his name from Raymond Reddington's lips. No, not Raymond Reddington. The man that had taken on his name and…. something of his life. How deep that went was still yet to be seen. Whoever he was was yet to be seen, but he knew Tom was alive somehow and he knew he was there.

Tom swung around and into the open, sliding his left hand under the butt of his weapon to keep it a little steadier. Dembe immediate drew on him and Reddington raised his hands a little, reaching to motion to Dembe. "No one needs to get hurt today, Tom."

Dark blue eyes shifted between the two men and Tom watched Dembe slowly lower his weapon, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were unfolding. Tom met Reddington's gaze and held it for a moment before finally lowering his own gun.

Reddington seemed to relax just a little at that. "Tom, what you think you know is-"

"You're done twisting her around," Tom bit out, his voice sharper than even he had expected. An old anger boiled up and he gripped the gun in his hand, every instinct developed over years of training demanding that he put the threat down before Reddington had a chance to do the same to him. He hadn't though, and as much as he might want to end this after everything, he wasn't going to kill him there. He jammed his gun back into its holster so he wouldn't be too tempted.

"You and I both know that the truth is rarely simple," Reddington said, taking a step towards him. "And I did warn you that this truth could only hurt her."

"Because you've been lying to her."

"Elizabeth is the one that has been determined to believe that I was her father. You didn't do anything to dissuade her by telling her that her father was alive a few years ago, but I have not once told her that I'm her father."

Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head. Every argument that wouldn't go anywhere flashed through his mind. How Reddington had descended on her life and how he had manipulated and controlled it. He had treated the world that she existed in like his own personal chess board, the people that she loved his chess pieces to move about and toss away whenever they became inconvenient. If he'd been her father maybe, maybe it would have at least made sense, but there wasn't even that. The bastard stood there after upending her life again with the damn bones and all he had were a few condescending words about how it was Liz's fault, not his. Tom was swinging before he gave himself permission to move.

His fist connected with enough force to whip Reddington's head around, making the other man stumble. Tom stood his ground, gaze fixed and he had to admit he was a little disappointed that Dembe caught Reddington before he went fully to the ground.

A rough, mirthless chuckle escaped Reddington as he wiped at his bloody nose and straightened. "Feel better?"

Tom's temper flared. "You think this is a joke for us?"

"I think that you're both acting like temperamental children who want something they can't have. The secret was not yours, Tom. It's not Elizabeth's. It's mine, and-"

He hadn't realized just how much pent up anger he held for the man, but the condescending tone was enough to break his temporary resolve that one punch was enough for now. Dembe must have seen the shift, though, because the larger man stepped between, solid and unmoving. Tom didn't give easily though. Dembe had the height and the weight on him, but Tom sidestepped and there was something satisfying in seeing a flash of worry across Reddington's features.

"I do not wish to hurt you, Tom," Dembe said pointedly.

"I'm not interested in hurting you either," Tom countered, "so get out of my way."

He didn't, not that Tom had really expected him to. Dembe blocked a kick and Tom dodged a swing aimed at his face. It felt good, somehow, to finally be exchanging blows with someone that wouldn't hold back and wasn't terrified of breaking him. He might not be at the level he once was, but he sure as hell wasn't fragile.

Tom bobbed, ducking the next blow and darted forward. He didn't make it there, though. Dembe caught hold of the back of his coat and dragged him backward. Tom didn't stop fighting, thinking that he could dodge again, but Dembe didn't let up. Instead Tom found himself being slammed down to the ground hard enough to drive the air out of him. He laid there for a moment, stunned and gasping and struggling to regain the ability to move.

"Stay down," Dembe warned. Tom really didn't have a choice in the matter. He was still fighting to drag air back into his lungs.

Reddington came into view, still wiping at the blood coming from his nose. Well, at least he had lost that smug look. That was something at least. He tilted his head, studying the younger man from above. "I think it's time we have a talk about what you've shared with Elizabeth."

Tom grimaced, but managed a glare up at the man that had started all of this. Reddington held that glare for a long moment before a voice sounded off behind him.

"Reddington!"

They must have made more racket than he had realized if it had brought Liz from the house. The only sign that it phased the older man at all was a small twitch of his lips.

"Step away from him," Liz shouted and Tom finally caught a glimpse of his wife at the garage opening. She had her gun drawn and aimed at the man she had thought was her father more than once. "I swear, Reddington, if you don't back away from him I will shoot you."

"I don't think you will," he answered calmly and the shot went off, echoing through the air and everyone froze in place. Tom watched from where he was still laid out on the ground as Reddington's fedora lurched from his head and fell, the bullet having sent it flying, and the man himself looked stunned as he finally straightened and turned to look at Liz.

"Get away from my husband or the next one does more than ruin one of your hats."

Reddington made a show of stepping back and Tom sat up slowly, still feeling the ache from the blow, even if he was starting to breathe normally again. Liz darted forward, but he was already waving her off as she stooped to the ground with him. "I'm okay."

"Tom-"

"I'm okay," he said again and he started the process of getting to his feet to prove it, risking a glance at Dembe to make sure they weren't about to go into round two. The other man didn't make a move, but was watching Liz with a mix of wonder and sadness.

"If everyone's done shooting up my garage now?"

Tom looked over to the huffy voice and found the man they believed to be Oleander standing where at the entrance. He was heavyset and gruff, his accent faded Russian. Surprisingly enough, his glare wasn't fixed on the woman who had taken the only shot, but on Reddington.

Liz whirled on him all the same. "I don't think you've been entirely honest with me, Mr Wilkinson."

He snorted a laugh. "My guess is that no one standing here has."

Reddington bent for his hat, straightening again and breaking his unusual silence. "Elizabeth, if I might have a word? Preferably without shots being taken?"

Tom offered her a tight smile when she turned to look at him again. "I'm okay," he said again. She didn't look entirely convinced as she reached her hand up, her fingers loosely holding his chin and easing him to meeting her gaze. He leaned into her touch. "Promise."

Liz pulled in a deep breath, tipped up in her toes, and kissed him. She didn't say anything more before turning to follow Reddington out of the garage. Tom watched, feeling his chest tighten again at the sight.

"You know that he won't hurt her," Dembe said and Tom turned a skeptical look on him.

"You want to tell me what he wants from her then?" He watched Dembe's expression close off immediately and Tom rolled his eyes. "Didn't think so."

"It is not as simple as you are trying to make it."

"I get that it's not simple. I never said it had to be, but you can't look me in the eye, after everything she's been through, and tell me that Liz doesn't deserve the truth."

Tom held the other man's gaze for a long moment before Dembe gave a small grimace, not able or not willing to agree with him. Instead his expression softened after just a moment. "I'm glad you are not dead."

That pulled a chuckle from him and Tom ran a hand through his short, dark hair. "Me too."

"Those two are going to be at it a while," Wilkinson said, pulling both men's attention over to him. "How about we wait inside? As long as you two don't plan to continue what you started earlier."

Tom gave a short nod of agreement and started after Wilkinson, but Dembe caught hold of his arm, the movement not nearly as aggressive as it had been earlier. Tom paused and turned, finding Dembe's expression tight and he spoke quietly so that only he could hear. "She will need you for what's ahead."

There was a beat of silence, the words heavy between them. He had played this game too long to ask him what was ahead. Dembe might care for Liz, but his first loyalty was to Reddington. This was likely as close as he could get. Tom's loyalty was, just as it had been for so long now, to Liz. "She has me," he swore before turning to follow Wilkinson towards the house.

She hadn't expected Reddington there that morning. His presence meant that there was a leak somewhere. Only a handful of people even knew that they were following this lead at all. "So who told you?" she demanded before he could get a word out.

Reddington stopped a moment, sniffing hard and mumbling an excuse as he pulled an already bloody handkerchief from his coat pocket. "I told you once that Tom was rash. It looks like that hasn't changed."

"I hope he broke it," Liz snapped. "Who told you we were here?"

"No one."

She resisted the urge to follow in her husband's footsteps and take a swing too. "Haven't you lied enough to me?"

Reddington's expression darkened. "I have never lied to you, Elizabeth."

"But you'll certainly let me believe whatever is most convenient for you." She stopped, turning the words he had spoken over and picking my them apart. No one had told him they were there, but someone had told him something. Oleander must have known something then. Maybe even more than she had originally thought. She tilted her head just a little as she studied him. "Someone told you Tom is alive," she tried, her tone much less uncertain than she actually felt.

There it was though. It was small, but there was a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that showed strain. "Okay," she said slowly.

"How long have you known?" he ventured.

"That he's alive or your secret that nearly got him killed?" She watched him stiffen and her smile was cold. "What? Did you think he'd keep that from me?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Everything," she said firmly.

"And what, exactly, is everything?"

She held his gaze. "You've taken so much from me. You've put my family in danger, you killed my father, and you've put a target on my back more times than I can count, but you've given me something too. You've taught me…. so much." She shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping and she could see her breath in the mid-morning chill. "Including that information is power, and by the time we're done I'm going to know every secret that you've tried to bury."

Reddington stared at her for a long moment, tilting his head up. "My secrets and my reasons for holding them are my own. You will stop your investigation, Elizabeth." He stopped, movement towards the house caught his attention.

Dembe was walking to them and he held a phone up. "Morgan."

Liz watched him take the call, but he purposefully moved away from her and her gaze shifted to the house. Tom hadn't come out with Dembe, but she could see him through the window where he was chatting with Wilkinson. The man didn't seem to be afraid of Reddington, but if Liz was to place her bet they wouldn't get anything from him that he wasn't willing to part with.

"Thank you. We're on our way." Reddington flipped the phone closed and handed it back to Dembe, peering through his sunglasses at Liz. "You've misunderstood me, Agent Keen. I'm not asking you to drop this search in my past, I'm telling you to, and you will."

"I'm not afraid of you. You don't have anything to hold over me anymore."

His smile was almost sad. "Information may be power, but it's not its only form." He motioned and Dembe fell into step with him, both moving towards their vehicle. Liz watched. This wasn't over, but she would be ready for his next power play. They would be. It was time to decide exactly who they could trust in this once and for all.

Notes: Originally I had planned to write one chapter that switched between what happened here and what will happen in Wednesday's update with Scottie and Howard, but as I started really getting into everything that happened in this chapter I realized that just wasn't going to happen. This one turned out to be around 4.2K and if memory serves the next chapter is close to 4K as well, so I thought it'd be best to just split those. Timeline-wise, everything is happening at the same time.

This chapter is something I was waiting and waiting for. I knew that when Red found out that Kat was alive that it wouldn't be long until she was willing to tell him that Tom had survived Garvey's attack and that the Hargraves were hiding him away. Things are about to get wild with a lot of power players all trying to outsmart each other and get what they want in the end. As things escalate I've found myself having to go back through and really work through each chapter carefully to make sure that I'm hitting what I need to in order to keep all my threads straight and tied up nicely by the end. So far, mostly so good. I'd love to hear your thoughts though :D

Next Time: Solomon is given a choice between self preservation and loyalties, Scottie and Nez gear up to rescue Howard, and Reddington makes a power play.

Chapter Text

"I know how you feel about Howard, but you can't let those feeling get you killed."

Nez turned to see Matias Solomon leaning heavily on the door frame of the locker room. He looked better. Every day he looked better, but he wasn't ready to be in the field yet, so she knew that wasn't why he was there. "You're not talking me out of this, no matter how smooth you think you are."

He flashed her one of his charming grins. "I don't think. I know."

"Well then," she huffed.

His smile faded and he moved further into the room as she fit her vest into place. "I'm serious, Nez. You can't do this alone."

"I'll have a team."

"You need a partner. Someone you know has your back."

"She does," Scottie said as she entered and Nez saw Solomon's expression shift ever so slightly as he looked at the woman that had saved his life once. Black tactical gear had replaced her stylish dresses that she typically wore and she had put her heels away for more practical boots that laced half way up her calves. Her rings were gone, her hair braided back to keep it out of her face, and she had already fit her own personal sidearm into a holster at her hip. She offered a smirk at Solomon's expression. "Did you really never think I'd spent time in the field? I'm a little disappointed."

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping. "I did have my suspicions."

Scottie moved to the lockers. "We're classifying it as a Grey Matters op to bypass the board and get in and out as quickly as possible. Dumont's on comms, but I'm sure he wouldn't turn down an extra pair of eyes."

Solomon caught Nez's gaze as she reached for her own holster and she saw the hesitation there. It wasn't just about Nez going in without him, it was about them pushing back at the Cabal. She wasn't used to seeing anything make him nervous, much less a challenge like this. Any other time he would be pushing to go himself, injured or not, and at the very least jumping at the opportunity to run point to feel useful.

"I understand if this is a conflict of interest, Matias," Scottie said evenly. "I won't hold it against you if you wish to bow out." Her gaze swivelled over to Nez and the younger woman saw the barest of smiles there. "I'll give you two a minute. We're wheels up in fifteen."

"I'll see you on the tarmac," Nez agreed and watched her boss go, giving them a moment together. This was goodbye, or it could be. If Solomon chose to break ties with Halcyon and lay low until the storm passed he wouldn't be there when they returned.

His dark gaze flickered to one side and then the other, refusing to meet hers. "It's not that I-"

Nez didn't mean to move and he seemed just as surprised as she was when her hand latched into the front of his shirt and pulled him into the kiss, cutting off whatever excuse he was going to give. She felt him tense at first, startled, but slowly he eased into it and by the time that they had to break for air he had been just as much on the giving end as receiving. She found that intense, dark gaze on her as they both pulled back and she gave him a small, satisfied smirk. "Neither of us do goodbyes well. Take care of yourself, Mattie."

She didn't give herself time to second guess as she stepped around him. She had a mission she needed to focus on.

He hit the floor hard, knees colliding knees first and he felt the impact through his entire body. Howard stayed there like that for just a moment, frozen where he was and refusing to drop the rest of the way to the hard floor. A low, rough sound left him, and he thought it did the trick as he saw the blonde enforcer's eyes flash dangerously. She was easily provoked, so relatively new to the game. She certainly didn't have the years behind her to provide a solid resumé like Solomon's had been during his tenure with the Cabal, but they weren't the same organization they had been when they had brought him in. They were beaten down and exposed, leaving the upper echelons to go to ground and the rank and file had been all but decimated. Laurel Hitchin's death had only served to weaken them even more, but that didn't mean that people weren't clawing for power. They had been quiet, and if Howard were to make an educated guess, they had been doing what they could to rebuild from the shadows.

Part of her inexperience meant that she let things slip without ever realizing it. She might have kept her name close, but that didn't matter. Howard knew enough. She had been tasked with bringing Whitehall in, not kidnapping the CEO of Halcyon Aegis. That was why she had limited backup and no real plan as far as he could tell. Beating him half to death was as far as they'd gotten and any thug could manage to break a few bones when their opponent was bound to a chair and couldn't fight back. It had been the fall that had snapped his wrist, the chair tumbling over with him still attached to it, but at least she'd untied him then.

He had surprised her when he had slammed forward, his head colliding with hers and sending her reeling back. In the flash of the moment he could remember how horrified a much younger version of himself might have been and how Scottie had teased him about it, reminding him that his sentiments were sweet, but a woman was just as capable of slitting his throat as any man. Even all these years later he could remember the then-rare smile and the way she'd looked at him like he was an oddity. Maybe he had been in those days, back when she had loved him.

It had been the distraction that did him in, however brief it had been. He knew that. If he had taken the opportunity in time he could have been out the door and on his way out by the time the enforcer managed to clear her head enough to start after him. As it happened he had barely made it down the hall - at least he had been right about that. It did look like an abandoned office building. - when the shot rang out and he had dropped to his knees. Maybe it wasn't the impact of the hard floor he was feeling as he struggled to stay upright.

She lashed out, the blow finally knocking him the rest of the way to the floor and he lost the will to pretend to be amused by the situation. Instead he laid there, left leg burning where the bullet had ripped through it, and there was no way he was making a run for it then. She was going to kill him there. The girl didn't really even know what she wanted from him, and when he wouldn't offer up something that would - so she thought - rocket her to the top of her organization, she would kill him and clean up the mess so that her superiors wouldn't trace it back to her.

"You never would a field operative, were you?" she asked, nudging him with the toe of her boot.

"That was my wife," Howard managed to cough out.

"Your handler." He snorted. That was one way to put it. "And your son's quite the operative. Even so, don't think that we can't-"

"You can't even find him," Howard growled. "Only reason you got ahold of me is by happenstance. You thought you got lucky." He looked up, clear blue eyes cutting. "All you got was a dead end. I'm not giving you anything and you don't have anything to threaten me with. I trust the people I love to be able to protect themselves."

"Sounds like you're dead weight then," she said cooly, leveling her gun.

His gaze didn't waver. "If you make a threat, you better follow through."

He saw the change in her eyes, the realization, and that was that. She knew he wouldn't give her anything. All he could hope was that he was right. That Tom and Liz would be able to protect themselves and that Scottie would take Agnes and hide her some place that the Cabal could never find her before bringing them to their knees. He might question her love for him, but not for their boy and not for their granddaughter. If they were in danger, Scottie would burn the world to protect them. At least he could die knowing that.

They had tracked Howard down to an old office building that hadn't been used in years. It stood quiet and seemingly abandoned if you didn't know what you were looking for. Scottie did. The problem was that they had no eyes and ears on the inside. While their intel had only delivered news of a handful of Cabal operatives there was no telling until they breached. The Cabal did love their misdirects.

"How did you convince Tom to hold off?"

She turned to Nez who stood in full tactical gear and ready for whatever they would find on the other side of the doors. "He's tracking down a lead on his end. I told him that you and I had this covered."

"We do," Nez said firmly and her pale gaze swept over the building's exterior. "Any idea what he's following down?"

Scottie's lips thinned as she thought about her phone call with Katarina. Tom could find more than one truths if he tracked down Oleander. It might be better that way. After this, once they had Howard safely out, she was done lying to her family. It was past time the truth came out, no matter the consequences. "I have a fair idea."

"Ma'am?" Scottie turned to see one of her ground operatives approaching and he motioned as he spoke. "We have the exits covered and the team of five you requested. You're sure you won't need more?"

"Stealth is the key here, but I need the others to be at the ready." She for her earpiece in. "Dumont?"

"I'm with ya, Scottie. Got the layout up and I'll be in your ear the whole time."

A small smile perked her lips. "It's been a while, but this isn't my first field op." She turned to Nez. "Ready?"

"Let's bring him home."

They moved forward and a small, timed explosion blew the lock off the door. They didn't meet immediate opposition, but the bullets started flying by the first turn in. Dumont was able to see their path through the feeds from the cameras attached to their gear and he led them through, noting the most likely rooms to use as holding spaces. They weren't certain if Whitehall was also being kept in that location, but they had been instructed to watch for him too.

The first couple of operatives split off to provide cover and Scottie slipped around, Nez and a team of three with them. They made their way down a hall.

"We've got some activity. Can't tell if it's them or Howard yet," Dumont said. "Looks like….northeastern corner, northern hallway, and another in the southwest."

"Nez, take Ramirez and Parker up to the northern side of the building. Sanders and I will take the southwest."

"Scottie-"

Scottie shot her a look and Nez clamped her mouth shut, no argument making its way out. Scottie didn't need protection. She needed a to be able to do her job.

Sanders was silent at her side, accepting the orders as they were given as they wound around to the hall that Dumont had spotted something that made him think they had someone there. He had been working on getting one of their satellites in place and a readout for heat signatures in the building, but they had to be ready for anything.

Scottie rounded a corner an the dots went off. Sanders took off to jump the opening to the other side of the hall, but a bullet hit just between his gear and he went down hard. Scottie fired her own weapon and the Cabal operative dropped, clearing her path. She checked Sanders quickly before moving down the way, voices audible.

"What do you mean breached?" a woman asked as Scottie moved silently closer. "I don't care. Take Whitehall around back. I'll take care of Hargrave. He's useless anyway."

Scottie spun around the corner, gun leveled, and she found the owner of the voice. She was a blonde woman that wore a look that screamed that she had gotten in over her head. She turned briefly, but as soon as she spotted Scottie she dove, putting Howard between herself and his rescuer. "I'll shoot him," she warned.

"Looks like you already have," Scottie said evenly, taking in the way Howard was favouring his bloody leg even as he was dragged to his feet by the woman behind him.

Howard met Scottie's gaze, holding as still as he could with the woman at his back, her gun pressed against the base of his skull and it would take a hell of a shot to take her out without hurting him at this angle. Even so, there was something in his eyes that said he expected her to take the shot, and when he spoke she realised why. "She knows about Tom."

Their son's chosen name focused the situation and Scottie took the shot.

There was a brief moment where time froze. She wasn't sure if the bullet had struck true or if years behind a desk had left her skills too dull to rely on for the precision she had needed. The woman dropped, though, and Howard stumbled forward, his leg not holding his weight. Scottie couldn't make it to him before he hit his knees, but she helped ease him to the side of the hall so that he could lean against the wall and she could get a better look at his injuries. "Look at me," she commanded and he did.

"Whitehall," he croaked out, the adrenaline rush subsiding to leave him with pain in its wake. She had been there and she knew the feeling.

"Our people will get him. Nez is with me. She knows the stakes."

He nodded. "That's how she knew. About Tom. Whitehall-"

"Hey," Scottie coaxed, one hand resting against the side of his face. "Tom is safe and we'll get to Whitehall. I need to know about you right now."

"Bullet to the leg, maybe a broken wrist." He gave a rough chuckle. "Pretty black and blue I imagine. We're getting too old for this." That brilliant blue gaze of his shifted up to meet her own darker one. "What are you doing here, Scottie?"

"Rescuing you."

"Why?"

They sat there like that for a moment with gunshots echoing in the distance and Scottie couldn't help the small smile as she shook her head. "Stubborn," she mumbled and leaned down, her lips brushing his. "I'm always going to come for you."

There was wonder in his eyes and after months - years, now - of distrust between them she saw the barrier crack. He reached up and pulled her closer again and into a kiss of his own choosing. She felt his fingers curl at the base of her skull and she leaned into it, losing herself to the moment.

"Scottie, you there?" Nez's voice echoed over the comms and she pulled back, Howard's expression more vulnerable than she had seen in years.

"Yes, Nez," she did pointedly. "I have Howard. He's conscious, but we'll need a medical extract."

"On its way to your location. We've cleared the building."

"And Whitehall?" Scottie asked.

There's was a pause that she didn't like. "He wasn't here, Scottie."

She squeezed her eyes closed. "Okay. We'll be waiting for the med team." She turned her gaze back to her injured husband. "We're going to get you out of here."

"They got Whitehall, didn't they?"

"They won't get far with him."

"But the Cabal will know Tom's alive." He shifted, grimacing as he did.

"We won't let anything happen to our son or his family," she swore. "They can't have him again."

"Scottie…" he reached over with his good hand, fingers slick with blood, but she took his hand and held on. He looked so tired as he let his head lull back against the wall. "I'm sorry…. for not trusting you."

She leaned forward and kissed him again. "We have time for all of that."

He nodded and she could hear the medical team making their way around the corner as his eyes slipped closed.

"I don't have to tell you how unreliable enhanced interrogation can be," Solomon said as he strode into the room, dusting his hands together more for show than need. "But in my experience, not one of the Cabal operatives you brought in knows where Whitehall has been taken."

He waited for a moment, but the reaction he had expected from Nez didn't come. They hadn't spoken since she had left out with Scottie that morning, so unless she had heard passing chatter there was no reason for her to suspect that he had stayed. Really, even he had been a little surprised at himself for making the choice. If he were smart - and he did consider himself a clever man - he would have taken off to a part of the world where no one, least of all the Cabal, knew his name or his face. He hadn't though. Instead of leaving he had offered his services and had overseen the interrogation of the Cabal members they had brought in. With that at a standstill he had hoped…. well he wasn't sure what he hoped for, but he had found her. Strange how things worked out.

Finally Nez looked up from the documents she had been pouring over. She held one out and he took it. "That's the woman that took Howard. Meredith Day. Twenty-three. Howard told Scottie that Day said she was an enforcer for the Cabal."

Solomon turned his nose up a little at that and flipped through what they had on her. "Sounds more like she was vying for the job if you ask me. I take it she came in in a body bag?"

"Scottie shot her in the head."

"Well then," he chuckled and closed the file, meeting her gaze. "How is Howard?"

"Out of surgery. Finally. The bullet nicked an artery in his leg."

"Never good."

"No, but the doctors are optimistic. Tom's on his way up. Scottie seems to think he found something on a lead that they were following this morning."

"Should be fun. He bringing the wife?"

"Yeah, Liz is with him."

He shook his head. "I can't imagine she's my biggest fan."

Nez quirked an eyebrow at him. "What? Just because you threatened to fillet her and almost killed cute little Agnes in a car crash?"

"You have got to stop getting your intel from Keen. He's a little emotional when it comes to dear ol' Agent Keen."

She finally cracked a smile at that. "Can you blame him? He loves her." She flipped the file closed and set it in the table with the others. "You stayed."

There it was. Solomon loosed a long breath. "I did."

"Why?"

"Why didn't I leave my team down a man to fight one of the - if not the - most dangerous organisation in the world? Really, Nez."

She rolled his eyes at the theatrics. "You had an out. You stayed for a reason."

His expression sobered a little, but his smile didn't fade. "I did."

Nez's phone buzzed and she glanced down at it. There was something about the way she met his gaze when she looked back up that threaten to send chills up his spine in a way he wasn't used to. "I'm glad you stayed."

"The Keens here?"

"At the hospital. We should get over there." She started past him, winking as she did. "Don't worry, Mattie. I won't let her hurt you."

He flashed her a grin and followed her out the door.

Howard was resting comfortably now that they had gotten him moved to a private room. The drugs they had coursing through his system to help with the pain left him dozing and Scottie had settled into the chair next to his bed, her fingers wrapped around his limp hand, careful not to disrupt the various connections and wires that were linked to the machines tasked to provide a steady readout of his vitals.

If she had had her way he would have been transferred directly to Halcyon's private medical facilities, but the doctors had taken him to Bellevue. They assured her that once he was strong enough he could be transferred, but that was still a couple of days out. That meant that he was there, exposed, and that she didn't dare bring Agnes with her to the hospital and risk an attack on her with the possibility of their son's survival having gotten back to the Cabal. They always had known how to hit a parent where it hurt to try to bring them to heel.

They would handle that as it came, though. Tom was on his way, and he and Liz were eager to see their daughter.

Scottie pulled in a breath. Liz. She had been willing to lie and manipulate her daughter-in-law to gain access to Agnes so that she could bring her back to Tom. She hadn't seen the younger woman since she had discovered that Tom was alive. Tom had been livid at the lie, still holding it against his mother the last time they had met face to face, and there was a better than even chance that if they hadn't tracked Oleander to Katarina that they would. Once they did Tom would know that his own mother-in-law had been involved in saving his life, that both of his own parents had known, and that they had said nothing.

The hand under her own moved and she felt her husband's fingers tighten on hers. "What's wrong?" he managed, his voice still rough and tired.

"Just considering all the consequences we'll eventually have to face."

He huffed a soft sound. "You want to tell him everything?"

Damn it all if he didn't know her when he let himself. "I think we owe him that."

"He may not trust us."

"It'll all come out in the end. You and I both know it will. It'll be better if it comes from us."

Howard nodded, his eyes lulling again. "Okay."

She squeezed his hand, bending to press a kiss to it and he murmured something so soft she couldn't quite catch it. Any hopes of him repeating it, though, were cut off as Tom and Liz rounded into the room, pausing in the door a little uncertainty.

Tom stood there for a long moment before finally asking, "How is he?"

"He's fine," Howard grumbled from the bed and he cracked one eye open. "Just a little roughed up. I've had worse."

Their son tilted his head a little like he was going to question it and then decided against it.

Scottie stood, reaching for him and he took a hesitant step forward. He didn't fight her as she wrapped her arms around him, and after a beat he even returned it. "I'm glad you're both okay," he admitted softly.

She released him, her hand moving to the side of his face. "You don't have to worry about us." Her gaze shifted past him and she stepped to the side to meet his wife's carefully guarded expression "Elizabeth, I owe you…. an apology. I-"

"Don't," the younger woman said, her voice tense and sharp. In that moment Scottie could see her mother shining through. She closed her eyes as if she was steadying herself. "You used me, you took my daughter under false pretenses, and you kept Tom away from me. You actively kept us apart. You let me think that my husband was dead. I don't know how I can ever forgive that." Her gaze met Scottie's. "I may not be able to…. but I can understand it. I would do whatever it took to protect Agnes."

"It's not the only thing you guys have held back from us," Tom said from where he had moved to his father's bedside. "We want to trust you, but-"

"You're right," Scottie cut in.

"Your mother and I were discussing it before you came in," Howard said. "We agreed. You both deserve the truth."

"The whole truth?" Tom pressed.

"Everything," Scottie swore.

"That would be a mistake."

All eyes turned to the door leading into the hospital room. The man known as Raymond Reddington stood there with his hat in his hand and an obnoxious smile plastered on his face.

"Reddington," Liz all but hissed and Scottie wondered if perhaps they knew more than she had realized.

His smile faded at her tone and there was an echo of sadness there as he looked at her. "I meant what I told you both, Elizabeth. This is not your secret, it's mine, and I do intend to keep it by any means necessary."

"We're done keeping things from our son," Scottie said firmly. "Sooner or later we knew things could come out and here we are."

"You won't tell him anything."

Howard snorted and shifted, pulling himself up to sit a little straighter in the bed. "We've known each other a long time, Red. You can't bully me like you can others."

"Whitehall."

A chill swept through the room at the name and Scottie saw Howard pale a little more at it. Solomon's first interrogations had yielded nothing, leaving them to assume that the Cabal had compartmentalized the information on where they were taking him, but maybe that wasn't it at all. The alternative- the one standing in front of them in a fedora - was just as dangerous.

"What about him?" Tom bit out.

Reddington turned a lazy look on him that wasn't quite as smug as it usually was. "I take it Howard and Scottie haven't mentioned the fact that they lost him yet? No? Not to worry. I was able to intercept Dr Whitehall and he's tucked away and safe."

"Whitehall's the one that created the drug that saved your life?" Liz asked and Tom nodded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yeah, and the one that has been adjusting my medication now, but you knew that, didn't you, Reddington?"

"You're leveraging our son's health for your damn secrets?" Howard growled.

"I don't take any pleasure in this, old friend."

"Go to hell," Scottie growled.

Reddington turned his piercing gaze back to their son, though it was clear his words were directed at all four of them. "I have no interest in hurting you, Tom, but you will drop this investigation into my past. Am I clear?"

Tom pulled himself up to his full height, leveling a glare at the man that was threatening. "If you think you can-"

"Yes," Liz cut in and all eyes turned to her. Scottie saw the determination there that shielded the desperation from showing too openly. She knew what Reddington was capable of, and unlike Tom, his wife didn't appear ready to gamble with that. "We'll stop. As long as Whitehall is allowed to keep doing what he's been doing, as long as Tom is safe, then we'll stop investigating."

There was a hush that fell over the hospital room in the wake of demands being met and finally Reddington nodded. "I'll be in touch."

And he was gone, leaving them the sound of the machines beeping in the background. Tom whirled on his wife. "Liz-"

She reached out and he took her offered hand immediately so that Liz could pull him closer. "I told you. I'm not losing you again. I can't risk it, Tom. If the price for keeping you with me is giving up my answers about Reddington, then it's a price I'm willing to pay." Her gaze shifted past him and met Scottie's for the briefest of moments. "There's still Garvey and the Cabal. They're the threats we should focus on now."

There was something unspoken there, and Scottie was certain she was reading it right. Liz was far from done fighting, but only a fool swung at Reddington head on. They would all do what they needed to to protect their family.

Her cell phone pinged and she glanced down at the message. "Nez and Solomon are here."

"You tell Agnes they were coming?" Howard asked tiredly from the bed.

"I did. She was very excited."

She watched both parents' expressions lighten just a little and Scottie gave them a soft smile. "Come on. Let's go see your daughter."

Notes: I mentioned in the last set of notes that the reason I wasn't able to flip back and forth between the Keens tracking down Oleander and Scottie's rescue mission for Howard was the length... this chapter is nearly 5K lol. So much happens that sometimes it just doesn't fit into one chapter :P

I've had someone asking about the ship name for the Hargraves and I don't think there's an official one, but I just call them Hargrave2, and this was a fun chapter for Hargrave2. It's been a long time coming to get them on the same page and it feels so good to finally have them there. They were so close to being able to tell Tom and Liz everything and then bam. Reddington. He does like his power plays. And Liz knows just how dangerous those can be.

Next time: Tom and Liz finally get some time with their daughter while they regroup and Ressler finds that Prescott isn't the only one willing to try to use his secret against him.

Chapter Text

One of the many things that Liz had found missing from her life after she had been told that Tom was dead was that glimmer of light that she had come to rely on. No matter how dark the case, how close the call, her family was waiting for her at home. Tom would cook dinner, he would have a glass of wine ready, and after Agnes was in bed she could vent some of it out. She hadn't been able to tell him everything, but she could tell him pieces and know that he understood. He would listen, one arm around her shoulders as she leaned into him on the couch, and at least some of it could fade into the background. When she woke from her coma she had felt so alone. Her team had tried, and Reddington had been a constant presence, but she had lost so much hope. It had been replaced with a deep, clawing need for revenge. The people that stole her hope needed to pay, and that thought had threatened to drown her. Even now, with Tom standing so close as they rode a private elevator up to the secured level of Halcyon's towering office building, she knew they couldn't be safe until every threat was dealt with. Including Reddington.

The elevator stopped and Scottie leaned forward, the computer reading her iris again as a secondary precaution, and the doors slid open, revealing a boardroom turned play area. There was a woman seated on the floor with a little girl playing go fish.

As Agnes looked up, that darkness was pushed back just a little all over again.

"Daddy!" she squealed, on her feet in an instant and barrelling towards Tom.

He was ready for her and scooped her up mid stride, swinging her up high and she giggled as he brought her back down so she could put her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "I told you I'd come back," he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her head and she tightened her hold on him. "And look who I brought. You know who that is?"

Agnes swiveled in his arms and looked briefly at Scottie who waved at her, but her dark blue gaze landed on Liz and the little girl's mother felt her chest tighten. It had felt like such a long time to be away from her, and as focused as she had been she could feel it all come crashing in now and Liz's vision blurred a little.

"Mama," Agnes answered her daddy's question.

Tom grinned and kissed her again. "You wanna say hi?"

He waited until she nodded and set her down. Agnes made her way over, never looking away, and Liz felt a tear escape as she blinked, dropping to a knee so that she was closer to eye level. "Hi there, baby," she greeted softly. "I've missed you."

She didn't say anything for a minute as she tilted her head a little to the side and studied her. After what felt like an eternity she reached forward, touching Liz's lips. "Your smile's pretty, Mama."

At that the dam broke. Liz felt the tears spill out and she reached forward and brought her daughter in as she stood. Agnes leaned forward, half laid out over her shoulder as she hugged on her. "Don't be sad."

"She's not sad, baby girl," Tom promised and Liz could feel him moving closer. He wrapped an arm around her back and pressed a kiss to their daughter's forehead from over Liz's shoulder. "Sometimes people cry when they're really, really happy."

Agnes leaned back, studying both of her parents skeptically before nodding. "Okay."

Liz smiled and kissed her round cheek. "I'm just so happy to see you. I've missed you so much."

"Can we go home now?"

"Soon, baby. Very soon."

"You and Daddy have to catch the bad men?"

Liz saw Tom look over to Scottie out of the corner of her eye and her husband's mother shrugged as she moved over to the table and picked up what looked like a tablet and a small, pink set of noise-canceling earphones. "Agnes, honey, I need to talk to your daddy and mommy. Can I do that?"

Agnes frowned a little, looking back towards her parents. "Stay here?"

"Yeah, kiddo. We'll talk in here. You can keep an eye on us," Tom said lightly and she gave him a smile. It was bright and sudden, reaching all the way to her eyes and she reached for him. Tom took her instantly and she was up in the air again, a giggle filling the room even as he set her back to the ground. She wrapped her arms around his leg in a hug before moving to obediently put her headset on and plug it into her tablet.

"You've got that down," Liz managed as she watched her little girl swipe through the movies available to her.

"Necessity," Scottie answered lightly.

The woman that had been playing cards with Agnes stood, the game put away and Liz had almost forgotten that she was there. "I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you," Scottie said before turning her attention back on the Keens. "Candy has been kind enough to watch Agnes on the rare occasion that neither Howard or I could be with her. Tom, I know you don't remember anything from… before, but Candy watched you when you were Agnes' age."

"I was much younger then," Candy chuckled and turned warm brown eyes in Tom, but she directed her words at Liz. "He was quite the handful."

Liz's lips quirked at the corner. "So hard to believe."

"Nice to, uh, meet you... again," Tom tried awkwardly as she left the secured room.

"I take it this wasn't just about seeing Agnes?" Liz asked as she watched Scottie pull a device out of her purse and click it on.

"This room is one of the most secure in the facility and this-" she held the device up - "ensures that nothing has been planted since the last sweep. Or if it has that it doesn't transmit. We can speak freely here."

Tom leaned against the table in the center of the room and he met Liz's gaze. She knew that look, and she gave him a small nod. She thought Scottie and Howard were telling the truth in the hospital: they wanted to tell them everything. Or, at the very least, they were willing to tell them. It was a start, and certainly more than Reddington was willing to give.

"We're not going to just let him use this," Tom said, his voice low and dangerous.

"No," his mother said firmly, "but we have to play this smart. As much as I would prefer to handle Red-" Scottie gave a small twitch as she said the nickname and it left her lips like a curse - "permanently, we may need him before this is all over."

"He knows where Whitehall is too," Liz said quietly. "Even if we were to take him out of play we might not find Whitehall." Saying it out loud, even if they were looking at every angle, felt so strange. Just a handful of days before she had thought this man was her father. Now he was just a stranger that had used her, and as much as that hurt, she knew this could come down to what she was willing to do to protect the people she loved.

"Whitehall won't be a problem forever," Scottie promised, "but we need time. Something that will even the play field."

"The bones," Liz offered and her husband nodded.

"We may know that he's not Reddington, but that news is still pretty well contained. Without proof we don't have leverage-"

"But if we get ahold of them we will," Liz agreed. "We use it like the Fulcrum."

"That could work."

"You have to be careful who you trust," Scottie warned. "He won't have made the demand without being able to ensure it's being followed through."

Tom snorted. "He has a bad habit of assuming his reputation will keep people in line."

"But he knows us," Liz said softly. "Your mom's right. Until we have leverage, the risk is too big. I meant what I said: I'm not losing you again."

"Focus on bringing Garvey in. From there you can find your path to the people behind all of this." Scottie turned to Tom and Liz saw her expression soften. "You don't need your father and me for answers. Follow the trail you're on and you'll find those yourself. About this and more. I just hope in the end you know how much we love you."

Tom swallowed hard. "You're not going to tell us, are you?"

She reached out and touched his cheek. "Someday. When I know it's not putting your life in danger. Right now, we can't add anything more to the balance. We have to play it smart."

"Someone's watching you, aren't they?" Liz asked, drawing Scottie's attention over. "That's why you don't want to risk it."

"Someone must have told Reddington that Tom is alive."

"Katarina." She watched her mother-in-law's expression tense ever so slightly before melting into something like pride.

She glanced at Tom. "You picked a smart one."

"Just figuring that out?"

"No," Scottie chuckled, but her expression sobered quickly enough. "If it were anyone else, there'd be no question. Your mother is in a league of her own."

"She's been running this since the start, hasn't she?" Tom asked.

"I think she saw her opening when your father reached out to her. Saving you… she knew we'd both do whatever was necessary."

"Whatever you needed to do keep him alive," Liz said softly, Reddington's words from years before tugging at her memory.

"Yes."

"What's her end goal?" Tom asked.

Scottie's lips thinned out. "Guessing at that is a dangerous game, but all signs have pointed to the Cabal. This is the first time she's had something to use to drag everyone into the fight when she was ready for it."

"Then we're on the same side. Why would she need to-?"

"Your mother wouldn't be involved in this unless she thought she had full control. Going to Reddington was a power play because I wouldn't steer you away from something linked to her."

Tom shifted, crossing his arms and Liz could see his clever mind piecing things together. "So we use that."

"What do you mean?"

"You give her something to make her think she has you fully in her pocket."

Scottie didn't look convinced, but Liz nodded. "Tell her I know she's involved. Maybe not what capacity, but that she's alive and in the middle of this."

She watched the older woman's expression shift. "That could work."

"It'll buy us time to get the bones, if nothing else."

"And to work up a backup plan for your meditation," Scottie said thoughtfully. "Use Grey Matters. We know they're loyal."

"So is my team," Liz vouched. If they were going up against a dirty cop they would need cops to do it. She wasn't field cleared anymore and she knew the hoops she would have to jump through to get her badge back at this point, but her team could and would provide that support.

Scottie nodded. "If you trust them. I'm sure that is something the two of you need to sort out. Until then, why don't I give you both some time with Agnes?"

Liz's attention pulled around to the little girl sitting quietly on the floor that appeared to be entranced with her movie and utterly oblivious to what was happening around her. In the moment everything else, all the mounding tensions and barely balanced dangers shrank back. She mumbled her thanks and started towards Agnes, seeing Tom give Scottie a hesitant hug from her peripheral. Agnes looked up as she approached and Liz wondered if maybe she wasn't quite as oblivious as she had thought.

The little girl peeled off her headphones. "Are you going away again?" she asked very seriously.

"Not yet, baby," Liz promised. "Your dad and I've missed you too much to go just yet."

"Wanna watch Tangled?"

"That's a good one," Tom offered as he moved to take a seat on the floor with her.

Agnes stood and reached for Liz, pulling her so that she took a seat next to Tom. Once both parents were seated their little girl plopped down between them, nestled in so she was close to both. Liz saw Tom's lips twitched upward as he settled in and she pressed the play button to resume the movie.

It was getting late by the time they finally left Halcyon's headquarters and Scottie had the driver take them to the old house in Riverdale. It had been one of the first things she and Howard had purchased together when they had first been married. It was larger than they had really needed, but they had both agreed that they didn't want to raise their children in the heart of Manhattan. The idea of more than one child never did become a reality, but the one that they had had was happy there. Christopher had taken his first steps in that house and had said his first words. He had played and learned and grown within the safety of those walls, and then, all those years later, when they had needed a safe place for Agnes to sleep at night while her parents away, it had been the Riverdale house rather than the Manhattan condo that Scottie had chosen. It was the home that her son would sleep in that night as the pieces of the next plan were crafted.

The driver pulled through the gate and into the long driveway. Agnes stirred in her car seat and Scottie looked over to see Liz reach for her after the SUV had come to a final stop. Tom, though, was staring out the window at the structure and Scottie felt her breath catch as she watched him. He was home.

"Does she already have a room set up?" Liz as in a hushed voice, but it pulled Scottie out of her thoughts.

"Yes. We put her in Christopher's…. in Tom's old room," she corrected, the slip the first one she had made in a while. A small smile played on her lips as she unfolded out of the vehicle, despite the weight of the day weighing on her. "She loved it. She went on and on the first night about the toys and asking what her daddy was like when he was her age."

Tom flashed a smile that was all Howard and Scottie thanked the driver, telling him to be back to pick her up at seven the next morning.

"Sleeping in?" Tom asked, drawing her attention and he was smirking a little. "You were always in the office by six when I worked there."

"It's been a long day," she murmured, memories playing back over the rescue and find Howard bleeding and injured. The surgery had taken longer than they predicted and while their doctors were overseeing his care, it wasn't the same as having him in the Halcyon medical facilities.

"Daddy, I want pancakes," Agnes said sleepily from her mother's arms as they approached the front door and Scottie slid the key into the lock.

"We'll see what we have in the morning, baby girl," he promised her and she didn't look convinced.

"We have a room right next to Agnes' made up that you two can sleep in. Take your time in the morning."

"We may not be able to chase down Reddington's secrets, but that doesn't mean there isn't plenty to do," Liz said firmly. "We'll just be glad to have a place to sleep tonight."

Scottie hummed a soft response s she pushed the door open, letting the Keens walk in first. Agnes had already settled back into place halfway draped over her mother's shoulder and Tom paused just inside the entryway behind them, his gaze sweeping across the foyer and up the stairs to the balcony and the chandelier that hung over them. Scottie reached out and gently touched his arm, startling him without meaning to. "This is your home as much as it is mine. All of yours now."

He turned to look at her, his expression strange. "I don't…. remember it. I should, I know, but I don't."

His voice was strained, almost guilty, and Scottie reached forward so that her palm rested against his cheek. "That's not your fault," she promised him. "Even if you never remember, you're here now. That's what matters."

Tom nodded slowly and she let her hand linger against his scruffy cheek. She saw him there, somewhere deep in the eyes under everything that had happened to him. She supposed she always had and that's what had drawn her to him. Her Christopher. Her own baby boy.

She tipped up and kissed his forehead on impulse, feeling him tense a little before he relaxed again, his smile almost too small to see. "We should, uh… we really should get Agnes to bed."

"Yes. Of course. Just up the stairs here," she offered and moved past him to start up. It had been a long day and it would be another to follow. They were as safe as they could be there, and they should all get some rest while they could.

The ten months that Liz had slept had felt like ten years. With her gone not only had they lost a vital part of their team, but they had received fewer leads from a distracted Reddington. They had been held in limbo and Donald Ressler had had to face everything that he had become.

He had thought that Liz leaving DC would have just been another shift into more of the same, but it had opened a floodgate, even if the waters had been a bit delayed. Between Tom showing up at his doorstep and hauling him off to Alaska to chase after Liz, Prescott's continuous hounding to try to push him to doing more while holding Hitchin's death over his head, and learning that the man that had gone after the Keens was a dirty cop - a dirty federal agent - with Cabal ties, the last few weeks had been a roller coaster. He should have been ecstatic that Prescott had dropped off and cut contact. It should have been a relief that one of his major stressors was off the table, but it wasn't. It left him feeling the weight of the guilt baring down even heavier than before.

Ressler reached over and turned the knob to shut off the shower, the stream of water drizzling to a stop and he leaned against the tile, his thoughts running wild. Prescott's silence didn't necessarily have anything to do with him. If he was willing to blackmail an FBI agent, he was in deep with much more unsavoury sorts that could have decided that they had had enough. The worst part was the not knowing. There was no telling if Prescott had gone to ground and would resurface later or if he was gone for good. It left Ressler in a limbo between what he had done and a future even more uncertain than before.

A sound caught Ressler's attention and he straightened, grabbing for the towel on the sink, pushing his hair back. His gun was in the living room on the coffee table where he had left it with his keys and wallet and cell. It could be nothing. It could be Tom just letting himself in again. It could also be someone coming to clean up.

He listened hard as he moved to throw his clothes back on. Ressler eased the bathroom door open enough to slip through and into the room. He had about decided he was hearing things as he rounded out and into the living room to see a gun already trained on him and the woman from Prescott's photo sitting on his couch. Katarina Rostova. Liz's mom.

Ressler raised his hands slowly. "I have got to get my locks changed."

Rostova shot him an amused look. "Finding yourself at gunpoint often these days, Agent Ressler?"

"Or just people breaking into my home."

"Have a seat. Do you know who I am?"

He did as instructed, briefly considering if he could dive for his gun in time. No. It was a few feet away and even if he could manage it, what was he going to do? Shoot Liz's mother?

"You're smarter than that," Rostova said as if she could read his mind. He'd barely glanced at the table, but she motioned at it. "I know that the man you knew as Henry Prescott tasked you with looking into me. What did you find?" Her lips stretched into a smile that never could have been meant to put him at ease. "I will know if you lie to me."

She would. Everything in him told him she would. There was something about the glint in her eye that reminded him of Reddington and Tom who had made careers out of being able to read a truth from a lie. He could see Liz there too, which made him more uncomfortable than he cared to admit.

"I understand your hesitation, Agent Ressler. I do," Rostova said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "So let me make this easier on you. Prescott is dead. His secrets are now mine, including yours. You answer to me."

Ressler bristled at the clear threat. "And exactly what does that mean?"

"It means when I ask you a question, I expect an answer."

He set his jaw, anger flooding through him. "Prescott gave me a photo to run through our database."

"What name did you find?"

"A few." She motioned with the gun and he pushed a sharp breath out. "I'd have to look at the file," he said slowly. "Nichols was one. Catchings. A few others."

"But you know who I really am, don't you?"

He studied her before finally giving a small nod of acknowledgement.

"I have no doubt that my daughter and her husband will be bringing your little task force into play soon if they haven't reached out already. Halcyon has been limited, if not neutralised, and her team will be their next step. You will report every movement, every plan back to me."

"Like hell I will."

She hummed softly, tilting her head. "I'm not sure you understand what's at stake here."

"I get what's at stake," he growled, leaning forward in his chair, "and I'm not going to betray my partner like that. I'm done being someone's puppet, of putting this in front of my job and my team. I've done too much already." He met her gaze, holding it. "You want to threaten me, fine. I'll go to Cooper myself. You want to stop me from doing that you'll need to shoot me here and now."

They both sat very still for a long moment, Rostova staring him down and Ressler wondered if they would ever find out what had happened to him if she decided to kill him. She could shoot him here and dispose of him and his team might never be the wiser. He wouldn't budge, though, and he had meant what he said. He was tired of living under the guilt. It was time to end this.

Ressler blinked hard as she lowered the gun, pulling in a deep breath and he thought he saw something shift in her expression. "I believe you, Agent Ressler. Raymond said you wouldn't give in, but I needed to be sure."

He snorted. She wasn't the only one that could read a lie. This hadn't played out how she wanted and now she was trying to damage control. "If we're done, then?"

She stood. "I meant what I said the day I met you. Masha is lucky to have a loyal partner like you."

Ressler didn't respond, but watched her as she tucked her gun away and turned towards the door. He couldn't even breathe again until the door closed behind her and he was left in the silence of his own home. He couldn't just sit there, though. If he waited to write up his resignation - his confession - he would find a hundred reasons not to. This needed to be done. It couldn't wait any longer.

A buzzing sound from his phone drew his attention and he looked over to see Harold Cooper's name lighting the screen. He reached for it. "Sir, I was just about to call you-"

"Whatever it's about will need to wait. I heard from Agent Keen and they're moving into place on their end. You and the rest of the Task Force are wheels up at seven am tomorrow morning to New York."

"Sir, with all due respect, this can't wait."

"Is it more important than bringing in Ian Garvey?"

Ressler paused, feeling the knot that had taken up residence in his stomach tighten. "No sir. Of course not."

"Good. Then we'll meet you at the airstrip bright and early."

The call ended and Ressler sat in his living room alone. He would help Liz. He would help her take down Garvey, but then this had to end. Even with Prescott gone, even with Rostova claiming to just test his loyalties, he couldn't live with what he had done any longer. He had to own up to it.

Tom had always moved quickly in his line of work. It was a special talent of his, and one that had left him at the top of his game more times than not. While other operatives waited for just the right in he created his own, leaving them behind and the mission complete. It had been something that had made McCready - and him, at one point - a lot of money years ago and the same method that he had hoped to employ now to work around Reddington. The problem was that he had been outvoted at every turn.

Scottie had been the first one to start in, naming off all the pieces that needed to be in place before they moved forward. Reddington would be watching them, waiting on them, and they needed to make sure that everything was set up perfectly before jumping into the fray. If they didn't they would lose Garvey, and if they lost Garvey they would lose their link to the Cabal and all of this would have been in vain. That was how they had landed at the house that Tom had supposedly spent the youngest years of his childhood in before he had been swept away. While the location wasn't as secure as the top level at Halcyon's HQ, it was out of the way and quiet, allowing them to sleep and find the next best steps to take. Liz had agreed and Tom had found himself the only one ready to throw himself headlong into the next part of the op. The last thing he wanted to do was to be distracted by an attempted trip down memory lane.

Even a couple of days into the stay Tom still found the house a little spooky. It may have been maintained, but it certainly hadn't been lived in in a long time now. Everything was clean and bright, the massive windows letting in streams of sunlight all day long, and there wasn't a spec of dust to be found, but the home itself seemed to be frozen back in 1988. There were pictures lining the wall of a happy family and even a room that was supposedly his when he had been his own daughter's age, and Agnes had fallen asleep curled up around an old stuffed bear that Tom didn't recognize. If Scottie had hoped to jar some memories into place by bringing him there, it wasn't working. It was only leaving him feeling more frustrated with the void left behind. Nothing was familiar and he didn't know what to make of it. Even Liz had something, and her memories had been purposefully tampered with. All he had was a blank space and a tightness that built in his chest every time he tried too hard to recall something. It felt like drowning with nothing by dry land all around him.

"Just got off the phone with Cooper," Liz said, startling him a little at the bedroom door. "The Task Force will be here first thing tomorrow. Everything set up?"

"Yeah," Tom breathed, forcing himself to focus. "Dumont's doing a full sweep of the facility tonight and Nez is putting together all the security protocols. It's one of our off the grid locations so no signal is going to make it out. If Reddington finds out where we are, it's because someone told him." He glanced down at his cell phone. "I'm still waiting to hear back from Singleton, but he should be at the meet tomorrow. His ex and kids were picked up by Halcyon operatives yesterday for protection. As soon as he delivers the intel on Garvey, I think it's time to pull him. No reason risking him when he can't do much more."

His wife nodded and he felt her hand touch the small of his back as she circled around him. "You think she'll sleep there all night?"

"Maybe. She didn't last night. Was it three that she piled in?"

"Earlier, I think. Is Scottie staying tonight or is she flying out to meet with my mother?"

"Tomorrow morning," Tom answered, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her a little closer. "They're getting Howard transferred to the medical wing at HQ at like… six, I think? Scottie'll head off after that and we'll drop Agnes off there so that Candy will keep an eye on her for us."

He felt her shift and she sighed against him. "I hate leaving her again."

"It won't be for long."

"We don't know that."

"We won't let it be for long."

His wife huffed something that might have been a laugh and he felt her pull back and when he looked over he found a pair of clear blue eyes fixed on him. "How are you doing?" she asked, the question a little out of place. "I don't know how much you guys talked about it when you were at the bunker, but this has to be a whole new level. I mean, your childhood home, the woman that took care of you when Scottie and Howard were out…"

"I don't know," he mumbled, his gaze darting away. "It's…. weird. None of it feels familiar just…" He shook his head, not finding the words. It was twisted and left him feeling uneasy. It was the same feeling he had when everything was about to go wrong, but he didn't know why. It was all lining up, and as much as he hated to wait on the sidelines as others did the work for him, the two days that they had spent there had allowed Nez, Solomon, Dumont, and Scottie time to get things in order. No, he didn't think his unease had anything to do with what they were facing. It was this house. It was the fact that he couldn't recall what everyone seemed to be expecting him to.

"Sometimes trauma can bury memories deep," Liz murmured softly.

"It's okay," he said gruffly. "You know, even if I never remember, I have you, I have Agnes, and I even have Scottie and Howard now. I don't…."

A small smile played on Liz's lips and she pulled him down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I know you, Tom. You don't like unanswered questions."

"I really don't," he chuckled.

Agnes made a small sound as she turned in the bed, but didn't wake up fully. Liz nodded down the hall. "Scottie said she had some old photo albums in the library."

"Really?" Tom chuckled. "Pretty sure you're just looking for payback for the videos Sam brought out that time we went to visit. What was it? You decided you wanted to be a princess for your fifth birthday or something like that?"

Liz was still smiling even as she punched his shoulder lightly. "You convinced him to show those to you."

"Babe, he offered willingly."

"Pretty sure Scottie said something about some of VHS's she had too… Home videos of little Christopher Hargrave could be a good distraction tonight. Who knows, maybe something will click."

Tom found himself chuckling softly as she turned, starting off towards the library. He took one more glance back at Agnes before following behind on her heels. He wouldn't bet on remembering anything, but if it brought that smile out even in the middle of all of the chaos they found themselves in, it was worth the try.

Notes: In case you missed it (or are not on Tumblr) there was a special bonus gif for this chapter's sneak peek on Friday that included the Keens actually watching one of the videos. With this chapter already at 5.5K, I just couldn't fit it in, but it is available in gif format for anyone interested. :D

And three cheers for Ress! I've known for some time that Katarina was going to try to control him, but it wasn't until I actually wrote this chapter that it became so abundantly clear that he just wasn't going to have it. That man has no interest in betraying his partner and I love him for it

Next time: Agnes receives her own mini op, Scottie approaches Katarina, and the Keens meet with the Task Force to discuss options.

Chapter Text

The morning had not gone as planned. They were supposed to be up at the break of dawn, ready to get Agnes up with them and out, but the home video marathon had gone longer than either Tom or Liz had anticipated. Once they had finally gotten to bed, Agnes had come into their room and landed right in the middle of them as they were dozing off. She hadn't just curled up with them and fallen asleep though. Instead she had turned and flailed and wallowed all over them so that no one slept until the earliest hours of the morning. The alarm had gone off twice by the time Tom had finally roused the girls out of bed and breakfast had to be in the go.

"Has your coffee kicked in before mine or did I miss something?" Liz groused as she pulled Agnes out of her car seat in the back of their borrowed vehicle.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked and instantly took the squirming, cranky child when she reached for him. Agnes melted against his shoulder, her little arms right around his neck.

"You've been in a mood the last two days, but you actually look happy to be up at this hour. What am I missing?"

"Just enjoying this," he said, motioning the best he could between them. "We're close, Liz. Not there, but soon."

He didn't miss the hesitant look she shot him as she turned to grab Agnes' bag and shut the car door. "I hope you're right."

He offered her a lopsided smile. "Grab my wallet with the keycard for me? I've got my hands full."

Agnes shifted against him and he kissed the side of her head. Liz went for his wallet as he had asked and, even expecting it, he barely felt her pull it from his jeans pocket. Half asleep she still made a talented pickpocket. "You know, we would have caused a lot of trouble if we'd known each other as kids," he teased, and that finally pulled a smile from his exhausted wife.

She tipped up on her toes and kissed his scruffy cheek. "Trouble would have been an understatement," she promised and pulled the ID card that Scottie had given him to enter the building out, pressing it against the card reader and they received a satisfying beep before the door clicked open for them.

Halcyon's headquarters in New York City housed a little bit of everything. They stretched from the top floor executive offices down to the operations facilities below ground level. Between that lay entire floors dedicated to research, technology, and Halcyon Aegis' own private medical wing. Howard had been transferred despite a grumbling physician at Bellevue, and seeing him was the Keens' goal before leaving to meet with their teams.

The elevator ride up made Agnes squirm, but she didn't fully wake up until the doors opened to release them out into the small lobby. She straightened a little more in her daddy's arms, turning to take in the sights.

The nurse at the front desk let them in without missing a beat and led them back through a set of locked doors to a secured room. Halcyon operatives stood guard at the door, but they gave Tom and his family a sharp nod as they allowed them through.

Howard was already awake and sitting up in the bed. The cast on his left wrist reached halfway up to his arm and his opposite leg was elevated. He looked good though. Certainly better than he had been when they had first seen him after the rescue. He was going over something on a tablet with Dumont DeSoto at his bedside. Dumont looked up and his entire expression lit. "Is that who I think it is?"

Tom echoed the expression. "Hey, baby girl. You get a two for one today. Who's that?"

"Mont!" Agnes cheered, suddenly wide awake and squirming.

Howard chuckled from the bed as the little girl launched herself at the tech expert. "Thanks a lot, princess."

"She only likes me for the toys," Dumont said lightly.

"Do I get a present?" Agnes asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking straight up at him expectedly.

"I'm workin' on something extra special for you," he promised.

Tom leaned over to Liz. "Dumont designed Agnes' tablet and a couple of other toys while she was with me at the bunker. Pretty sure she's claimed him as a lifelong friend."

He watched his wife's expression shift to the a strange mix of amusement and sadness that it always did when he spoke about Agnes coming to stay with him when she had left for Alaska.

"Have you had any luck with the film?"

"Heard back from the labs this morning when I got here. Some of it was damaged, so they're still trying to clear some of the images up."

"Do we know what the photos are, though?" Liz asked.

Dumont shrugged. "Looked like family photos, from what I saw. Hard to tell. I gotta get over to the site. Get everything swept and ready for our visitors."

Liz looked towards the hallway. "Are we sure it's not safer to meet here?"

"We keep a collection of safe sites around the city that are better for what you need," Howard explained. "Out of the way of prying eyes and ears."

"Got a new car for you to take. Everything'll be set up and ready when you get there," Dumont promised, handing over an envelope. "See you two in a bit."

Tom took what was offered and turned back to Howard. Agnes was already crawling up on the bed with him, asking if his leg and arm hurt and if they were still going to the park. "Soon," her grandfather promised before turning his gaze up towards Tom and Liz. "How was the house?"

"Kinda unnerving," Tom laughed and shrugged. "If you and Scottie were hoping to jar any memories by having us stay there it hasn't worked yet."

"She did point us in the direction of some photos last night," Liz said, a little mischief making its way into her eyes.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. The VHS's too."

His wife's expression turned a little more devious and Howard huffed a laugh. "We bought the video recorder not long before you were born and got our money's worth," he explained. There certainly hadn't been any shortage of photos in the library, and while Tom and Liz had plenty of photos and videos of Agnes, it was strange to see his own childhood like that. Up until he had met Scottie and seen the photo of the three of them at the beach, Tom hadn't seen a photo of himself that young. If any of his foster parents had taken photos, they hadn't traveled with him, and the Phelps' sure hadn't been the type to care enough. Scottie, though, had apparently enjoyed documenting the first nearly four years of his life if her collection had been anything to go by.

"Daddy, what'sa VS?" Agnes asked from the bed.

He choked on a laugh. "VHS. It's what people used to record on before you could just save it on your phone."

"Like a million years ago?"

"Now you're just being mean," he teased her and she giggled as he hauled her up in the air and kissed one of her round cheeks.

"I take it your mother's already left?" Howard prompted.

"Yeah. She was out before we got up this morning." A small frown tugged at him. "I don't like that she's going without backup."

"Backup would give her away. Trust her. She knows what she's doing."

"Who are you and what have you done with Howard?"

His father chuckled at that, inching down against the pillows a little. He looked tired, but that was to be expected after everything. After a moment he cracked an eye open. "Candy's just getting some coffee. Agnes and I'll be just fine if you need to head out."

That sparked the little girl off and she turned towards her parents, tears building in her blue eyes and a high pitched whine starting in her throat as she reached for her daddy. Tom felt guilt tug at him as he scooped her up and she reached to pull her mom closer too.

"Don't go," Agnes singled and Tom kissed her dark hair.

"Hey?" He waited until she leaned back to look him in the eye. "Here's the thing, kiddo," Tom whispered a little conspiratorially and his daughter perked up at the secretive tone. "Your grandpa's gonna need to stay in bed for a few days, but he's stubborn. He needs someone to make sure he's safe, so it's not so much that he's taking care of you as you're taking care of him. Can you do that for me?"

She thought about that for a second, her little nose scrunching up and she looked back at Howard for a moment, not entirely convinced.

"I need you to be really brave to do this," Tom told her.

"I'm brave," she said firmly.

"I know you are, baby girl. You're so brave." He kissed her forehead. "We love you so much."

"And we'll be back soon," Liz promised and Agnes nodded.

"Okay."

She let him set her down again on the bed and they said their goodbyes, promising that they wouldn't be gone long this time. It was hurting Liz as much as it was him, and he knew it as her hand dropped into his and squeezed hard as they walked down the hall. "You're amazing with her," she said softly.

"She's smart. She may not understand everything that's going on, but she knows it's dangerous. She's scared." He nudged her a little, trying to lighten the heavy conversation just a little. "I think she may like us."

That pulled a smile from Liz. "Are we… do you think we're doing the right thing with her? Do you think-?"

Tom stopped in the empty hall and turned to his wife, locking eyes with her and holding her gaze. "I think we're doing the best we can in an impossible situation. We're trying to keep our family safe."

Liz nodded and he tightened his hold on her hand. "Love you." She tipped up on her toes and the kiss eased his raw nerves. He could feel the desperation and the fear, but he could also feel the hope and trust. They had each other's backs, and they would do whatever they had to to keep their family safe.

Scottie had made contact with Katarina and set up the meet for that morning. She had heard the brief pause of surprise when she had, their last conversation leaving the other woman with no reason to think Scottie would reach out so soon. It had peaked her curiosity, just as Scottie had known it would. That didn't mean that she was fool enough to think Katarina would let her curiosity get the better of her.

The dark haired woman checked her watch, frowning. She had expected Kat to be late, but this was ridiculous. She was an hour past the meet time, which was quickly moving from establishing dominance to wasting Scottie's time.

She was halfway to standing from her place on the park bench when Katarina appeared from behind and took a seat next to her. "They say patience is a virtue."

"They have more time to waste than I do," Scottie half growled.

Katarina hummed, but there would be no explanation- much less an apology - any time soon. "I heard you went in personally after Howard. How did it feel to be in the field again after so long?"

Scottie's dark eyes shifted to look at Katarina without turning her head. A small smirk played on her lips. "Invigorating."

"You're welcome."

"For what, exactly?

The redhead shrugged. "Giving you the chance to experience that again. I take it your gratitude isn't the reason for your visit."

Scottie's lips thinned. "Did you tell Reddington that Christopher is alive?" The question hung in the air for a long moment before Scottie turned to look fully at Kat. "I refuse to stop them from pursuing the Oleander lead and suddenly Reddington knows. The timing is suspicious if nothing else."

"We need Raymond," Katarina answered after a long moment. "He would have found out eventually."

"And now he's leveraging my son's health."

The former KGB operative rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. He's applying pressure where it's needed to keep this running as smoothly as it can." She glanced over and she lost the levity in her voice. "We're moving towards the endgame, Scottie. We've been fighting this war for years, even if it's been quietly. The children are impulsive and only know a fraction of what the Cabal is capable of and we need Raymond as much as we need you and your husband. He won't hurt the boy. You know he won't."

There it was. The opening that Scottie had hoped would present itself. "You can guarantee that?"

"I can, and I will. I just need to know that you're on my side as much as I'm on yours.

Scottie remained silent for a long moment, letting Katarina believe she was weighing her options. "I am," she said softly, "and that's one reason that I wanted to meet today."

Katarina straightened a little. "What do you mean?"

"Elizabeth knows you're alive."

"Did you tell her?"

"No." She waited, hoping that the partial lie would have enough truth in it that it would pass by her old friend. Liz had already known Katarina was alive, Scottie had only confirmed it.

"Her partner," Katarina murmured distractedly before meeting my her gaze again. "How did she react?"

"I thought you didn't care what your daughter thought of you," Scottie said slyly.

Kat shot her a glare. "I need to know how to approach the situation. Ignoring it won't help anyone." She pulled in a deep breath and her gaze was sharp. "I'll need you to set a meet."

The warehouse was locked down tight, though no one on the outside would ever know. It reminded Liz of the times that they had used one of Reddington's locations that he had set up. Personal phones were left at the door, the windows were darkened so that passerbyers couldn't see in, and there was a sense of secrecy that blanketed the space from the moment they walked in. She was a little surprised that no one took their weapons at the door, but they were supposed to be able to trust each other there. Despite everything that had happened between the Task Force and Halcyon's Grey Matters division, they needed to be able to trust each other.

They weren't the first to arrive. Her team was already there and Aram was picking Dumont's brain on some piece of tech, the other man grinning like crazy at the chance to talk to someone who could follow how he put it together. Cooper was standing to the side with Samar and Ressler, the latter peeling off when he saw the Keens enter.

Tom gave Ressler a quick nod of greeting before giving them the moment that her partner seemed to be looking for. "Everything okay?" Liz prompted.

"Your mother paid me a visit," Ressler said roughly.

Well that hadn't been what she expected to hear. "Why?"

"She knew I was looking into her," he said in hushed tones.

"You never actually said why you were."

"Tom didn't tell you?"

"We've been a little busy." She glanced over to where her husband was speaking with the Task Force and Dumont. "It'll be a few minutes before the rest of Tom's team gets here. Why don't you fill me in?"

She watched his expression shift to something like guilt, his gaze dropping. "It's….I assumed he told you."

"Why don't you tell me now?" she pressed again, leaning back against a table to ease her posture. Whatever this was was making him more nervous than she had seen him in years. Maybe since his struggle against drug addiction. Her jaw tightened a little at the thought and she reached out, startling him a little as she touched his hand. "Ress, whatever this is, you know we have your back, right? I have your back."

He swallowed hard and she listened as he spoke in low, halted tones about something he had been struggling with even before Garvey's attack and her time away from her team. This had been going on for well over a year, starting with Laurel Hitchin's death. He had called a fixer and he had covered it up and he had been in the man's pocket since then. Looking back Liz could fill in the gaps in what had happened and things made more sense.

"Rostova killed Prescott," Ressler said softly.

"But why did she go to you?"

"To let me know exactly what she knew about me. She wanted… information."

It felt her temper boil. "About me."

"And what you and Tom have planned." His clear, pained gaze flickered to meet hers. "I told her to go to hell."

Liz tried for a reassuring smile. "We'll figure this out, Ressler. We won't let her ruin your career."

He shook his head. "I don't care. I'm done, Liz. I'm here to help you one last time, but I have my resignation drafted. It's going to Cooper as soon as this is done. I can't live like this anymore."

"This is not your fault. We can fix this."

"No, Liz. It is my fault, and the longer that I wait, the more of myself I'm losing. I've been lying to the team and I'm-"

"Ress, stop. Stop." She waited until he met her gaze. "You remember what you told me when I wanted to turn myself in for the harbour master?"

He winced. "Yeah."

"You told me to remember all the good we do, and you were right. Our team puts the bad ones away. We make sure that this works is just a little safer. We're working to take down a dirty fed with ties to the Cabal and the Nash Syndicate, Ressler."

"I'm not bailing on this, Liz. I know what it means, but I can't live with myself knowing that I've become the dirty cop."

"Hey." She reached out and he looked at her. "You are not a dirty cop. You made a tough call and it went bad. It happens. You can't set that right from prison." The doors to the warehouse opened and drew both of their attention as Matias Solomon strode in with a woman that Liz had to assume was Nez Rowan. She had just missed her over the last couple of days, but now she had a chance to meet her.

"Everyone has their limit on what they can give to this," Ressler murmured. "C'mon. I'm not going to leave you a man down for this."

Liz nodded. There would be time to convince him. There had to be.

"You must be Liz."

The woman in questioned turned, catching the wink Solomon shot her way as he sauntered by and it took everything she had in her not to take a swing then and there. It was the woman he had entered with that had spoken. "And you must be Nez. I hear you kept my husband in line the last year or so."

Nez Rowan flashed a grin. "It ranked as one of the more difficult jobs I've ever had to do."

"I'm not that bad," Tom called from across the room.

"No, you're impossible when you're recovering," Liz answered with a smile and Nez snorted a laugh.

"I knew I was gonna like you."

Liz echoed the grin as they moved to join the others.

Detective Norman Singleton was inbound to arrive at the location, and by the time they received that call tensions were already running high. Tom had called Solomon off his playful harassment of anyone he thought that he could get away with and Liz looked ready to shoot him. Her husband didn't blame her. He was about ready to shoot him. Solomon was on the mend as far as he could tell, but being cooped up in recovery had made him more obnoxious than usual.

"A couple things before Detective Singleton gets here, just that we're clear," he said, drawing all eyes to him as he reposition himself at the front of the crowd. "This op is off-books. Halcyon's board doesn't know about it and no one in the FBI can know. Until further notice, the people in this room are the only ones read in."

"That includes the Hargraves and Reddington," Liz specified. "If you're uncomfortable with that, now's the time to bow out."

"What exactly happened with Reddington?" Samar prompted. "You still haven't told us what's changed to make him less trustworthy than usual."

"Elizabeth, if you're asking for trust, it's time to show a little," Cooper said and Tom saw the conflict in his wife's expression. It was dangerous. Reddington had already shown what lengths he was willing to go to to keep them from delving any deeper into his past and his precious secret, and they really couldn't be sure what he would do to the Task Force if they knew what the Keens knew. Nothing, possibly, or one by one they could find themselves meeting the same fate that Sam and Kate Kaplan did to hold that secret in place. Reddington that claimed to care a great deal about both of them, yet he had smothered Sam and shot Kaplan in the head with every intention to kill her. This secret of his, this truth was something he wanted to keep desperately, and a desperate Reddington was a dangerous one.

Liz drew in a deep breath, her gaze turning sharp and determined. "This whole thing is… complicated, but part of the problem is that Reddington has kept asking for us to trust him without honesty to back it up. I'm not going to do that to you." She clenched her jaw a little and Tom saw the struggle there. He reached over, his fingers brushing hers.

"It started about the time I left Halcyon. Late Kaplan reached out to me and said she needed me to pick something up for Liz. It was suitcase with human remains. Long story short, and with a lot of people after these bones, the DNA extracted confirmed that they belong to Raymond Reddington."

Neither of them said anything for a moment, letting the news sink in.

"That's impossible," Ressler chimed in. "I hunted the guy for years. That's him."

"Not according to the DNA report," Liz said softly.

"Who had these bones now?" Cooper asked.

"Ian Garvey," Tom answered immediately. "That's what he was after when he broke into Liz's and my place."

Liz pulled in a steadying breath in next to him. "He killed Nik Korpal for them, nearly killed Tom, and put me into a coma for ten months. He knows the truth, and Reddington is willing to do anything to keep that. He gained control of Richard Whitehall who-."

"Reddington has Whitehall?" Nez demanded, and Tom could almost feel the judgement coming his way that he hadn't filled her in yet, the fact that he hadn't seen her in days not withstanding.

"Yes, and he's using him and the fact that he's the one that has the formula for the meds that Tom needs as leverage against us and the Hargraves to stop the investigation," Liz explained.

A hush followed for just a moment before Ressler took a seat in one of the chairs, his gaze fixed on Tom. "What does that mean for you?"

Tom tried for a reassuring smile, but he knew it fell short. "I'm good for now. I've got some in reserve and Scottie and Howard are looking for an alternative."

"It just means we have to tread carefully. Until we have something to balance the scales, Reddington has the upper hand," Liz warned.

"Keeping him out of the loop is going to help us do what we have to," Tom added. "He wants to get to Garvey, but we think we can get to him first."

A knock at the door drew their attention and Nez unfolded herself from her chair to walk towards it the moment Dumont gave the all-clear. She opened the door to a startled looking Norman Singleton and Tom motioned him in.

"For those of you that don't know," Liz said, "this is Detective Singleton with Metro PD. He was in charge of Tom's case-"

"Still am, technically," the detective said as he joined in. "I've kept your secret like you asked. Not that anybody'd believe me if I told them."

"Appreciate that," Tom said with a lopsided grin. "And in turn we've made sure that your family is safe and out of Garvey's reach."

"Detective Singleton is also part of Ian Garvey's task force," Liz added and there was a quiet murmur amongst the crowd. "And that gives him a unique perspective and access to information."

"So you're the one," Solomon said lightly and Singleton looked uneasy.

Tom didn't blame him with the shark-like grin that Solomon wore.

"You have a lead to get to Garvey?" Cooper prompted.

Tom nodded towards Solomon who stood. His expression tighten into a subtle grimace as his hand went to what must have been the injury Garvey had left him with. "We do. I've been following a couple different trails, and while one ended… in a less than desirable manner -"

"Garvey shot him," Tom offered with a quirked eyebrow.

"You're just sorry it wasn't you."

He grinned. "There's something about shooting you that's cathartic."

"Boys," Nez snapped and Solomon offered a lazy shrug.

He motioned and Dumont pulled a set of photos up on his screens he had set up. "The other lead I was on has merit, though. Meet Lillian May Roth. Thirty-six years old, no known family, but she's something to Garvey. He drives an hour both ways on his lunch to go see her."

"Lilly," Singleton volunteered. "He doesn't really talk about her, but I've heard the name come up on phone calls."

Tom glanced over. "Mistress?"

"Not his wife, but my gut says no on the mistress. Not that Garvey's squeaky clean in that department."

Solomon snorted, his voice bringing them back to the reason he was there. "The plan's simple enough. We snag Roth-"

"By snag you mean abduct her?" Ressler demanded.

"Call it what you will," Solomon drawled.

Cooper straightened where he was seated. "Why not go after Garvey directly? Why involve a civilian?"

Solomon ducked his head at that one and Nez answered for him. "We found out that Garvey has ties to the Cabal because he recognized Solomon and had intel about an op that he ran while working for them."

"When he was trying to kill Liz when the Cabal framed her, perhaps?" Samar deadpanned.

"Before that," Solomon answered lightly.

Tom saw his wife rolled her eyes at the statement. "Garvey is on high alert because he knows Solomon has ties to Halcyon," he explained. "He's difficult to grab right now. It would be easier to lure him out. We're not going to hurt her, Ressler. All we need to do is have her make the call." Tom knew that team wouldn't blink at the tactic, but he also knew what they were asking the Task Force to do. It wasn't the first time they had bent the rules, not by a long shot, but he and Liz needed their help. They needed them to agree to this.

"Alright. We'll bring the girl in for questioning," Cooper agreed. "Where is she?"

"Currently in Maryland," Solomon offered.

"Then we'll bring her into the Post Office. Halcyon will have more leeway when we get Garvey, but until then, while there's an innocent civilian involved, the Task Force is running point on this. Is that clear?"

Cooper's question was directed at the Keens. Tom had hoped to bring her to New York and keep the op under Grey Matter's control to keep Reddington as far away as possible, but that wasn't going to pan out. They were going to have to give to get on this, and more than just the truth.

"Clear," Liz answered, startling her husband from his thoughts.

He turned to Cooper. "We need to tie up a couple of things and we'll meet you at the airport. We can take one of Halcyon's planes." He looked over at Nez and she nodded.

"I'll make sure the jet's fueled and ready."

"We'll call when we're in our way there." He motioned to Singleton. "You ready to go see your girls?"

The detective moved towards them. "This isn't over yet. Garvey-"

"You've done enough," Liz said firmly and the detective looked over to her. "We're not going to risk you getting caught."

Tom saw the hesitation. He was a good guy. An honest guy, and he may not have caught the dangerous side of Ian Garvey yet, but he felt betrayed by the man he was supposed to be able to trust. "We promised you protection. Let us make good on it."

There was a long moment where he wasn't sure Singleton was going to give, but then he saw it. The other man sighed, his shoulder falling just a little. "You'll let me know how it all goes?"

"We will," Liz swore.

He nodded then, and without another word he started for the door. They would get him to the relocation team from Halcyon and then the Keens would be on their way to getting Garvey.

Notes: Agnes may not know what all is going on, but she wants to help. I love that kid so freakin' much. She's too cute.

Next Time: Katarina pushes for a meet, the Keens and their teams find out that Lilly Roth is more than they thought, and a plan is put into motion to bring Garvey in.

Chapter Text

The sun was already down below the horizon when two black SUVs pulled up outside of the little bar, one just outside the front door and the other across the street. Liz sat in the passenger's seat, her gaze fixed ahead of her for a long moment before she turned to look at Samar who hadn't loosed her grip on the steering wheel yet. Finally she pushed a long breath out her nose and her eyes slid closed. "I appreciate you backing us on the way we're going in."

Liz glanced out the window to where Nez and Solomon were waiting across the way. They appeared to be patient enough now that the plans had been agreed on, but without Scottie there to bring Solomon to heel, the man had fought them on the plan the whole way, citing the fact that he already had a repertoire with Roth. If it had been anyone else, anything else, maybe, but Solomon was still moving slow after the bullet Garvey had put in him and there was the little issue of trust there. While Tom said he would do his job, Liz hadn't been the only one uncomfortable with trusting Matias Solomon with what would likely turn into an abduction if he had been left to run the op. Most of them had agreed that bringing her in for questioning was the best course of action and that required a badge. Eventually he had backed down, but for just a moment she had wondered if it would turn into a dangerous power play not just between Solomon and Tom, but also between Grey Matters and the Task Force. "It was the right call."

"I know Tom wanted someone from Halcyon in on it."

"Tom just wants to get to Garvey. The way he gets there means less than the goal."

"And do you agree?"

Liz tilted her head a little. "Are you asking if I'd do anything to take down the man that tried to kill my husband and put me into a coma for ten months?"

"Yes."

Liz met her gaze. "I would. Are you good with that?"

Samar nodded, but there was no judgement there. In fact, Liz thought she saw a glimmer of understanding. "This is your family, Liz. I wouldn't expect any less."

It hit then what Samar had been looking for. She thought she knew what Liz was working for, but she had needed to make sure before she trusted her at her back.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Liz answered as she reached over and pushed the door to the SUV open, a brief nod towards Nez across the street signaling that they were going in. They would wait as backup if it was needed and a getaway car if things turned bad fast. Liz liked Nez, even if Samar was wary. The two had a past and she could could respect that.

The bar was closing for the night, Roth locking the door just as they approached. She shook her head and pointed to the sign. "Sorry, we're closed," she called out.

"I'm sorry, I forgot my purse in the bathroom," Liz shouted back. "We'll just be a second!"

Roth paused for half a moment, watching them, before she reached up to unlock the door and let them in. "I didn't see anything, but you're welcome to look."

Liz mumbled her thanks as she brushed past her, but Samar stopped at the door, turning to lock it behind them. As Liz turned back she saw Roth pale a little. "Listen…."

Samar pulled her badge from her coat pocket. "We're Special Agents Navabi and Keen."

If she had looked nervous before, the badge hadn't helped. Her blue gaze flickered between both women, eyes wide and confused. "What's this about?"

"We need you to come with us," Liz said firmly. "We have a few questions for you about Ian Garvey."

Aram had met Dumont DeSoto briefly when they had all - well, most of them - thought that Liz was dead several years before and again - also briefly - at the meet they had had in New York. He'd liked him then, but getting to work closely with him was turning out to be a treat. Halcyon's tech expert was a creative genius that was as excited to talk about his inventions as Aram was to hear about them. "We could use that in the field."

"Oh yeah. We'll work it up to production and Howard n' Scottie'll decide if we market it to the government," Dumont said with a shrug. "Only fair that our people get the first go at our tech."

"Is that something else you're working on?" Aram asked, motioning to the small window running data at impressive speeds.

"Not ours. It's actually Garvey's, but it hasn't turned up a lot of useful intel yet. One of his people had a fake eye that was giving off a signal. We sent a team to the location it was trying to get to, but it was already empty. I have a few programs running in the background for anything else, but looks like a dead end so far."

"Do I want to know how Halcyon got someone's fake eye?" Aram asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I find it's better not to ask," Dumont chuckled. "Not the only thing they've turned up with, though." His gaze swiveling over towards Tom who had been pacing on a phone call, more and more agitated by the second, for the last several minutes. "That doesn't look good."

"Who's he talking with?"

"Scottie."

Aram made a small sound of acknowledgement. That had been a strange piece of information that had come out along the way: the woman that had orchestrated the hit on Liz and Tom's wedding - the same attack that had nearly killed both Agent Keen and Agnes - was actually his mother. Not that Tom had known it at the time. Not that any of them had known, including Scottie Hargrave herself from what he understood. Things only seemed to get more complicated as they went.

"So, there something goin' on between you and Navabi?"

Aram grinned. "Yeah. We've been dating a little over a year now. Longer, I guess. Wow."

"Time flies, huh?"

"A lot happens around here."

"I hear that. Blink twice an' someone's popping back from the dead, right?"

"It does happen more than I ever thought possible."

"Speaking of…. Tom-Tom, what news do you have?"

"Nothing good. Liz's mom is pushing for a meet," Tom said as he approached, shoving his cell phone into his jeans pocket.

"But she's working with Mr Reddington, right?" Aram asked. "And he thinks you're in New York staying out of everything?"

"We knew it wouldn't last long. I had just hoped we could get our hands on Garvey before he stuck his nose into the middle of it."

Aram shifted uncomfortably. "He wouldn't really hurt you, right? The threat's just-"

"You know him better than that," Tom answered, his voice low. "He might not send someone after me anymore, but cut off my meds and take me out of the field? Sure. I think he'd do that in a heartbeat if he thought it'd get him what he wanted."

"You've got enough to cover you for a few days, right?" Dumont asked. "Even if he cut you off today, we get Garvey, you get the intel on those bones, and bam. You got the leverage you need, right?"

"If everything works out, yeah."

Aram pursed his lips together. "Do you know what he wants from Agent Keen? I mean… when she thought he was her father it finally made sense, but this-"

"We don't know," Tom answered tightly. "But we will. You two found what we need on her yet?"

"You'll be the first to know when we do," Dumont promised.

The sound of the lift drew their attention over and just a moment later the doors were opening to reveal Samar, Liz, and the two Halcyon operatives. There was a face Aram had only seen in the files as well, and Lillian Roth looked more than a little frightened as Liz removed the bag from her head that had blocked her view on the trip to the black site.

Tom moved forward, his expression deadly serious as he approached Liz. Samar moved past him with Roth and Aram watched Ressler join her.

"You have access to the interrogation room?" Dumont asked. "There's nothing I can do to hurry that search through our systems up by sitting here."

"Yeah," Aram answered, unable to shake the feeling of dread that was settling its way into his chest.

They had drilled her for an hour and were making little headway on it. Lillian Roth looked like a terrified young woman that was out of her league being hauled off to a black site in the middle of the night and interrogated by FBI agents, but there was something that didn't ring absolutely true about what she said, or maybe it was just how she said it. Whatever it was, Tom knew there was something deeper. There had to be.

"Maybe they haven't found it because there's nothing to find," Liz said quietly from her place next to him. They had stood at the backside in mirrored glass separating them from the interrogation room since Roth had gone into it and the night was stretching on with nothing to show for the precious time spent.

"There's something," Tom promised. "Give them time."

Liz groaned, running her hands through her thick hair. "What if we've screwed ourselves? We went after Roth with everything because we thought she'd lead us to Garvey. My mother's trying to set a meet and when she realizes we're not in New York-"

"Scottie's handling your mother."

"But what if-?"

"Liz," he said sharply, pulling her attention in and he found he looking at him. "It's going to be okay. Every step is a risk, but it's better than standing still."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah."

His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket. "Dumont. They found something."

His wife peeked at that. "What?"

"Didn't say, but one of us needs to stay here."

He watched the conflict play out across her face before she waved him on. "It's your hunch," she grumbled and turned back to the room where Samar and Ressler were taking turns at Roth. Tom leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and darted back out to the war room where Dumont was waiting.

"So, you're not gonna believe this."

"Try me."

"You had me checking all the databases for irregularities, right? I've had a dozens algorithms running in the background for it and I think I found something. That search you ran? With Liz's credentials? What'd it say for the DNA it was matched with?"

Tom blinked hard, glancing around to make sure no one from the Task Force had just happened to overhear what Dumont had said. "Just that it matched DNA on record."

"But there isn't DNA on record for Raymond Reddington. They got photos and details up the wahzoo, but no DNA, so that means it's probably a close family member, right?"

"Like Liz. Okay," Tom promoted, getting impatient.

"Or Reddington's other daughter," Dumont said with a grin and turned his laptop around to show what looked to have been a redacted file he had been working through.

"Holy crap," Tom managed and he was sprinting off back towards the interrogation room in an instant, his mind running a million miles an hour. He nearly bowled over the guard there and slammed to a stop, startling Liz.

She blinked at him. "What?"

He was breathing hard, but nodded towards the one-way window. "That's not Lillian Roth."

Liz quirked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, then who is it?"

"Jennifer Reddington." He watched her expression flicker between a range of emotions in a matter of seconds, too many to settle on just one. The name was one she knew well, but there had never been a face to go with it. Tom grinned. "I told you there was more to her."

"Remind me never to question your instincts again. We need to go in there."

"Yeah."

He followed her lead to the door and Ressler and Samar both turned, startled as Liz strode through without any hesitation. "Give us a minute."

Both of her partners stared at her for just a moment, a set of dark and light eyes both sliding to look at him briefly before returning to her and giving way to the request. As talented as they were - and even Tom had been impressed with their interrogation skills - they hadn't gotten through yet. It was time for a different tactic.

"You're the one that was with Agent Navabi," Jennifer Reddington said quietly, her gaze darting back down to the table where she had managed to fold and unfold and refold a small piece of paper into anxious oblivion.

"Keen," Liz reminded her.

"I don't know what I can tell you that I have already told the others. Ian's an old friend. I've known him since I was young."

"How did you meet?"

She paused for just half a beat before. "He knew my father."

"That one way to put it," Tom said easily and the young woman looked over at him, her eyes narrowing a little.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can cut the act," Liz said, her voice tight and she leaned her palms against the table that stood between them. "We know you're not Lillian Roth, or at least that's not the name you were born under."

"Jennifer Reddington," Tom offered, "daughter of Raymond and Carla Reddington." He watched her stiffen at that.

Liz eased her stance s little. "I get it. Terrible father, you're whisked away into witness protection at a young age, and Garvey must have looked like an angel to you. Was he your case officer?"

Jennifer sat very still for a long moment before the smallest of whispers escaped. "Yes."

Tom felt a stab of recognition there. "He saved you from a life you were terrified of, didn't he? Gave you a second chance at something better. Something more."

Jennifer blinked hard. There it was. Samar and Ressler just hadn't had the piece of information to make it make sense. Now that the Keens did, it was falling into place. "He protected me from my father."

"We get that," Liz said almost kindly, and Tom knew that was the portion that she understood. "I get that more than most. Reddington…. Reddington's my father too."

Tom didn't miss the careful wording or the way she was easing herself in, both vulnerable and not. The secret they knew about a Reddington wasn't to be shared lightly.

"He's your father?" Jennifer managed and Liz nodded.

"You see, I get it. I get what that means to have that…. looming presence, that shadow over your life. I understand why you would cling to the person you believe took you away from that, but Garvey is dangerous. We're looking into him for a long list of dangerous, violent crimes."

"No," Jennifer snapped. "If you knew him at all you wouldn't be doing this! Ian is a good man. Whatever you think he did, you're wrong."

"We're not," Tom said firmly.

"You are."

He didn't have to look over to Liz. She slid seamlessly back, giving him some space to take the lead he kept his tone even, albeit a little cold. "Agents Ressler and Navabi have already filled you in on some of what he did. Did they show you photos? The man with the dark hair in the scrubs? His name was Nik Korpal. You wanna talk about a good man? Nik was a good man and your pal Garvey had him strangled. His windpipe was crushed. You have any idea what that feels like?" He saw her shrink just a little and he pulled one of the chairs around, letting the feet scrape the hard floor as he did and he took a seat so that he was closer to eye level. "He didn't stop there. He sawed three fingers off one guy before eventually shooting him in the head just because he didn't know anything. He told his girlfriend she was free to go and then shot her in the back. You know what he did after that? He put them through a wood chipper to make his point. Sound like the good man you know?"

Jennifer Reddington had gone very still as he spoke and Tom pushed a long breath out through his nose. "He had me shot trying to get something back to leverage against Reddington, and then followed me to my home."

"No," she said small and Tom leaned forward, motioning back at Liz.

"One of his goons slammed my wife so hard in the head that she was in a coma for ten months. Garvey made sure to slice me up personally."

"No!" she shouted. "You're lying."

He stood, the motion so abrupt that she flinched back and he dragged the hem of his shirt up to reveal the jagged scars all along his left side. "Does that look like a lie to you?"

"Garvey is deep in the drug trade," Liz said quietly, "but that's not the worst of it. He's involved with an organisation known as the Cabal. We believe that he's using those connections with the Nash Syndicate to help them."

"I don't know what you want from me. I'm just a waitress, and I don't believe anything you've said." She swallowed hard. "I want a lawyer. Don't I get a lawyer?"

"We're not charging you with anything," Liz said softly.

"Then let me go. Please?"

Tom saw his wife's calculating look. She didn't say anything, but turned and walked out. He didn't risk a look back as he followed and they found Ressler and Samar on the other side of the door.

"She doesn't know anything," Samar said firmly.

"And we can't keep her here indefinitely," Ressler added, frustration evident in the irritable glare.

"We don't have to," Liz stated firmly. "We've planted the seeds. Let her sit and think about it and then we release her first thing in the morning. She'll go straight to Garvey, I guarantee it. She'll need to know for herself. All we have to do is plant a tracker and we'll have him. She'll lead us straight to him, even if she doesn't know it."

"That…. might actually work," Samar said thoughtfully. "But are we sure she'll go to him?"

Liz nodded firmly and Ressler sighed. "I'll run it by Cooper. Good work, you two."

The agents parted ways with them to do their jobs and Tom turned back, watching some of the intensity melt away to show the strain on Liz's face. "Hey? You okay?"

"I have a sister," she managed, her voice small.

"Yeah. You okay doing this?"

He watched her turn that over in her mind for a long moment. "We're not safe until Ian Garvey is off the streets and the Cabal is dealt with, so yes. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that we come out of this alive."

He tried for a smile, but it felt like a weak imitation. Tom reached forward, his palm sliding along the side of her face and she leaned into it. They were deep in it, and there was no way to go but through it. He could be there for her, though. In whatever way she needed, he would make sure he was there for her.

They barely slept that night as they made sure everything was laid out just right. Like Cooper had promised, the op to bring Garvey in was put into Halcyon's hands, but Liz found herself included in the movement. A safe house was set up, preparations made, and by six am they were ready to turn Jennifer Reddington loose.

Liz had found Tom asleep in her office a couple of hours before, files and maps and other assorted information spread out around him like he'd been struggling to stay away but exhaustion had finally won out after the long day. Now, as she dug the pill bottle from her purse that the alarm on his watch would be sounding for at any minute now, she was glad she let him sleep. He was running lower than she had realized and with Reddington breathing down their necks, he could decide to cut him off at any time. The moment he realized that they weren't just after Garvey, but the bones too, he would cut him off. They didn't have any room for error.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Liz looked over to see her husband straightening, rubbing the heel of his hand hard into his eyes to try to clear the sleep away. "A couple of hours. You need to take these with food?"

"In a perfect world," he said with a shrug and she tossed him the pill bottle. He glared at it a little before unscrewing the cap and dry swallowing a pill. "What'd I miss?"

"We have the location set up and Nez and Dumont left to make sure it's ready. Once they've confirmed we'll release…. Jennifer."

Tom's expression tightened and he unfolded from the small couch in the corner of the office. How he had managed to fall asleep on the tiny, uncomfortable thing only indicated how tired he must have been. Even so, it looked like he was already feeling it as he stretched gingerly, cracking his neck and wincing a little as he did. "You thought a lot about it?" he asked after a long moment. "Your sister, I mean. I know that knowing your parents has always meant a lot to you, but…"

"I never thought about having a sibling," Liz said softly. "Not really."

He made a soft sound of acknowledgement and she watched him cross the space between them. Suddenly his arms were around her and she sank into them, her cheek pressed against his chest and she listened to the steady beat of his heart. "I couldn't do this without you," she confessed quietly.

A soft laugh escaped her husband and she felt his fingers work their way through her hair. "You're the strongest person I know. You could face anything, even without me." She pulled away, the words startling her, but his gaze was gentle. Tom smiled for her. "But you don't have to."

She snorted, trying for a smile at the words as she tipped up on her toes, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him willingly into the kiss. Maybe he was right and maybe she would have been strong enough to face this alone, but she didn't want to have to. The idea of losing him again paralyzed her and there was too much riding on this for that risk. "Tom?"

"Mm?" he mumbled, not ready to end the kiss just yet.

Liz squeezed her eyes shut, the words heavy in her throat. "Babe, I…. will you do something for me?"

He pulled back then, his expression a little confused. "Okay?" he said hesitantly.

"Will you wait on location?"

There was a beat where there was no reaction at all. Tom just stared at her like he wasn't sure he had heard the request right, and finally he blinked twice. "Liz-"

"I know what I'm asking is hard, and probably unfair-"

"He nearly killed you. I'm not letting you go in there alone," he argued, his voice hardening into sharp edges the way it did when he was struggling not to snap. He was worried.

Liz reached up, her fingers loosely gripping his chin to keep his eyes on her. "He did kill you, Tom. Waking up and having Reddington tell me you were gone, living like that for months…. I won't do it again. Please, I…" She closed her eyes and leaned in, feeling him echo the motion and his forehead bumped hers lightly and she soaked in the closeness. "I won't be alone. Ress, Samar, and Nez will all be there. Nez has a tactical team meeting us that I don't think we'll need, but she's playing it careful. I just…. please, Tom. Just this once, please."

She heard him sigh and she didn't dare look at him. It wasn't fair. She knew it wasn't, but she couldn't face the idea of a stray bullet or any number of things going wrong.

"You'd never forgive me if I asked you the same thing," he pointed out quietly and Liz winced.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't look happy. "You're not the only one that was scared, Liz. That's still scared. In the car you stopped responding and I thought I'd lost you. I thought that you…." He cleared throat, his words struggling. "Liz, you are the strongest person I know. I meant what I said: you'd figure out a way through it without me. You might leave a trail of bodies behind you, but you'd do it. Me… I can't. Not without you. I don't know how to anymore." He squeezed his eyes closed tightly. "Something could go wrong with you there just as easy as it could me. It's the chance we have to take. The one that we have to…. If we're going to do this, the one we have to be willing to take."

"Everything's a risk now, isn't that what you said?"

"Yeah." Dark blue eyes slid open and fixed on her. "You and me, Liz. It's you and me in this together or not at all."

She nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay."

"I'll let them know-"

He caught her wrist as she turned for the door. "I have to trust you to be safe as much as you need to trust me," he said tightly. "I need it in return though. This won't be the last dangerous op before this is over."

Liz nodded slowly. "Together or not at all," she murmured and finally she saw his expression ease. A mirthless laugh escaped her. "We're a mess, aren't we?"

His lips tipped at the corners. "I love you. You bring him in and we get those answers together. We're going to get through this."

"I know," she promised softly and leaned into him, those strong arms around her again. They held onto each other for a long moment, steadying each other, but eventually a knock at the door drew them apart.

"Hey," Ressler greeted softly. "Sorry to interrupt, but it's showtime."

Liz nodded and let her hand slip into Tom's, giving it a brief squeeze. He leaned in for a quick kiss. "See you on the other side."

"Horrible choice of words," she huffed and finally released his hand so that she could follow her partner out the door. She would see him when they had Garvey, and they would, soon, and at least that could be put behind them.

Notes: This was such a fun chapter to write. Between Aram and Dumont, Team Keen getting into the interrogation room, and continuing to work through Liz's fears, there was so much to write on. I'm not sure I had written an interrogation scene for the Keens before this one and I had a LOT of fun with it. I recently read the Blacklist pilot script and it talked about how in sync Tom and Liz are in that first scene and I feel like it translates so well into when she finds out who he is and they work together. They're not in the field a lot together, but they had that lovely scene at the end of S2 where they went after Andropov and when they played the FBI investigator in S4. I think they would run an interrogation very well, and it also let me have a nice little nod back to S1 when Tom was on the other side of that table. (can you tell I really enjoyed writing the scene? lol)

Next Time: Reddington and Katarina pay the Hargraves a visit, Agnes has time with her grandpa, and the team gets ahold of Garvey.

Chapter Text

It had all come down to this. Every ache, every setback, and there they were poised and ready to bring Ian Garvey in. She wouldn't admit it out loud to Cooper, but she was glad that Halcyon was leading the op. She knew that her in-law's company still answered to the law, but they tended to push the limits of those laws in ways that the FBI couldn't. She was more than willing to push those limits if it would bring Garvey in.

Liz looked out over the park that she, her team, and the Halcyon operatives that answered to Nez Rowan were hidden in. Some were in plain clothes, filling the space and ready to act, while others - like she and Nez - were crouched just out of view so that a nervous and pacing Jennifer Reddington wouldn't catch sight of them. It had been a risk turning her loose with the knowledge she had now, but it had been a calculated one. If they could take Garvey separately from her they would, but if they couldn't she would take a trip to Halcyon's DC offices to be held until they were certain she wasn't a risk. Jennifer knew Tom was alive. That within itself was a dangerous piece of knowledge.

"I'll admit I'm surprised to see you managed to talk Tom out of being here. Getting Garvey has been a focus for… a while now."

Liz glanced over to where Nez was watching her and she squeezed her eyes shut hard, grimacing against the last conversation she and Tom had had before she had left out. "I wouldn't bet on getting a second chance at him sitting back."

"Maybe you should have saved it for another time," Nez said lightly and Liz snorted.

"Too many things can go wrong here." And they could. One stray bullet, one wrong move and she would be reliving that night in their apartment nearly a year and a half before. It didn't take much to let her mind wander to seeing him laid out on one of the sidewalks here, catching the wrong end of the op, and blood pooling around and she screamed his name. It was something she couldn't live with, and even the idea of it was making it hard to focus on what she needed to do.

"That's everywhere and everything in our line of work."

"He got it. Didn't like it, but he understood why I needed this."

Nez hummed softly. "Solomon wasn't thrilled about getting benched either. He's still healing though. Tom is…. you didn't see him before. He's better. He would have been good for this."

Liz made a small sound of acknowledgement. It hadn't been fair to ask him, and she'd admitted that. It hadn't changed anything, but at least she had admitted it to him. Somehow she needed to find a way to accept the dangers they faced. Somehow. After they had Garvey in custody. After he was cuffed in an interrogation room and couldn't lay a hand on the man that Liz loved. Tom wasn't the innocent, wide-eyed teacher that she had thought she had married the first time, but there was something in her that still needed to protect him. He might not need it, not anymore than she did at any rate, but she did. She needed to protect him and keep him safe in any way that she could.

Liz tried for a smile, but was distracted as Dumont's voice sounded over the comm in her ear. "Got eyes on Garvey approaching from the south."

"Okay, let's go," Nez murmured and Liz saw her shift around for a different viewpoint.

Liz stayed where she was, gun clutched in her hand and her eyes on Jennifer. She had seen Garvey as well and she moved towards him. Liz could hear the conversation filtering through the comm, Jennifer's voice sharp and aggressive as she laid out the accusations that she had heard against him. Garvey watched her, his stance growing increasingly more tense with every fact laid out, and he reached out to her, close enough that his voice carried over the bug. "Keen doesn't know what she's talking about, and her team-"

"The guy had scars. He said you tried to kill him, that you-"

"What man?"

"Keen's husband, I guess. He called her his wife and said-"

"That's impossible."

Liz looked over to Nez and the other woman's expression was tight. "Go. Take him now," Nez ordered.

Everyone moved forward, shouts from both sides filling the air. Halcyon operatives boxed Garvey in on either side of the bridge and Jennifer instantly threw her hands in the air, terror written across her face.

"You brought them here?" Garvey demanded and Jennifer shook her head.

"No, I didn't… I don't know how…" She turned and Liz found those sharp blue eyes on her. "You."

Garvey barked a rough laugh, his gaze landing on Ressler, Samar, and finally Liz, lingering there even as an operative jerked his arms behind his back and cuffed him. "Whatever charges you think you've got, you'll never make them stick, Agent Keen."

Liz let the corners of her mouth drift up, her gaze not wavering from his. "Good thing it's not the FBI taking you into custody then, isn't it?"

There was something satisfying about the way the smug expression slipped from his face as he stared at her and Nez came to join her. "This is what Halcyon wanted with you, Garvey," she said dangerously and motioned. "Take him in."

Well, it looked like Liz wasn't the only one letting things get personal. There was an intensity in Nez's eyes when she turned. "I'm going to escort Roth to our local offices."

"Taking her to the black site would be a mistake," Liz agreed.

Nez's eyes flickered to look behind her. "I know you and Tom trust your team, but they're still cops. If you think they're going to be uncomfortable with whatever happens next, now's the time to make that call."

"I'd trust them with my life," Liz said firmly and Nez nodded, stepping away with Jennifer and leaving Liz to laisant between the two groups.

"They think they're playing us," Katarina murmured and Reddington glanced over to where she was perched on the arm of the couch, blue eyes fixed on him.

"I'd be more surprised if they didn't try something," he answered after a moment. "Elizabeth is stubborn and her husband is reckless."

"I've seen enough from him to know he comes from the same world we do, even without Scottie and Howard along the way. I'm a little surprised you ever let it get that far with them."

Reddington snorted, memories playing out across his mind of the first time he had directly laid eyes on Tom Keen. Until the wedding he had only seen photographs and files and reports. He had tried to stay away, to give Elizabeth space in a time when she needed it. McCready had assured him that his operative was the best fit for what he needed. No family, no real need for anything outside the job. It was everything to him, and as Reddington had looked into the cold stare of the operative in the photo he had believed the Major. He had relied on it, even when news started to trickle in that Keen had gotten close to Elizabeth. Reddington had ended the contract and McCready had told him that the operative was out. Maybe he had even thought that he was if Tom had managed to run small ops in between his attempt at playing house. It was when the news of the engagement came through that Reddington knew Keen hadn't left. He hadn't broken things off, and he could still remember the blinding rage as he had barreled back to the United States and to that little church in Elizabeth's hometown where she stood, dressed in white and with a smile that could lighten the darkest of souls. Tom Keen hadn't mattered then, or at least not as much as the realization that if Reddington had him killed right then that it would break Elizabeth's heart. McCready's top operative had caused him a great deal of grief over the years, but even now there was an undeniable fact in that he made Elizabeth happy, and that kept Red from feeling too much regret that he had let him live that day, or even the days since then. He had seen the pain and the suffering and the darkness she had sunk into when she had truly thought he was dead, and as frustrating as Tom was, Reddington would rather live with that than see Elizabeth suffer through that all over again.

"Or perhaps you knew then?" Katarina prompted, pulling Reddington from his thoughts.

"Knew what?"

"That he was the Hargrave boy."

"I didn't know."

There was an intensity in her expression that he hadn't quite forgotten, but his memory had dulled over time. Now that they were in the same room again he could feel it cutting like a knife. "Fate has a funny sense of humour then," she said at last and finally broke contact, falling back onto the couch with her knees draped over the arm. "Maybe there was no escaping this. You, me, Scottie, and Howard. Even the children now. He was the only one that slipped away, lucky bastard."

Red didn't have to question who she was referring to. He was the shadow looming over them both with those damn bones exposed. The one that could expose lies that he had both constructed for himself and a handful that had been constructed for him. Elizabeth's father and one of Katarina's lovers. He could still remember the way she'd looked at him, and even now his chest tightened just a little over it. "I know you loved him," he said softly, the words not quite what he had had in mind when he opened his mouth.

"Love may be a bit much," Katarina answered in a tone he knew well. "Love is always a bit much."

"But you did love him."

She sat up, the movement sudden. "So did you, in your way. Do you really want to talk about this?"

"You brought him up."

She waved it off and flopped again. "He's dead and gone. What are we going to do about the children?"

Reddington snorted, his gaze sweeping towards the window of the room they had chosen to meet in. "If they're digging into the bones I'll make good in my promise to them."

"And if they don't give?"

"They will. They won't like it, but they'll do as they're told." From what he understood Tom wouldn't be of much use without the medication that Whitehall provided him with. Migraines, tremors, and dizziness were only the first signs and enough to take him out of play. According to the records he had obtained, they never expected Tom's health to be what it once was. Red supposed dying could have that effect of a person.

Katarina's lips stretched at the corners. "That's something I've always appreciated about you. Her safety was more important than her affection."

"I will always do whatever I think is necessary to keep her alive," Red murmured.

His gaze shifted over to meet hers and she stood, crossing the space between them. She stopped when she reached him, her hands reaching to grip his jacket lightly. "She may not have been yours, but you always treated her as if she was."

"I wanted her to be," his confession left him on a breath. She always did know how to coax the truth out of him.

"I know." Katarina's hand moved up to his face and he felt her draw him in, her lips against his and for just a moment the world melted away.

The knock on the door forced them apart and Reddington cleared his throat. "Yes?"

Dembe appeared as the door opened, his expression serious. "I've just received word that Ian Garvey has been taken into custody in DC."

Reddington straightened. "By the FBI?"

"No. By Halcyon."

Well, now they knew what Elizabeth had been planning. They weren't looking into his past, but they had certainly gone out of their way to keep him out of the loop in bringing in Garvey, and he needed to know why.

"Garvey can provide pieces of intel that we need to find a way into the Cabal," Katarina said, already pulling her phone out and dialing. She turned as it rang in her ear. "Scottie, I hear Masha and Christopher have Garvey. No more games from either of us. We need to meet."

Life had always been a game of moves and countermoves in the world that he had existed in. He had learned to adjust early on when his father had moved them - escaped with them - from Communist-occupied Poland to the United States. He had changed their name and this many years later Howard could barely recall the finer details of his life before they had come to this country. There was one exception to that. The memory of that little room in their shabby apartment where he had curled up and listened to Voice of America was still crystal clear. He could recall every detail of the space, every feeling as music and talk filtered over the station and he had dreamed of something more. There was more, he knew that without a doubt now, and he'd fought for it. He was still fighting for it, and he'd be damned if he would let anyone outmaneuver him.

"Grandma said it was Daddy's when he was little."

Agnes' voice pulled Howard out of his thoughts and he saw his little granddaughter present the stuffed bear that had replaced her puppy the last several days to Red from her place at the foot of Howard's bed. Reddington, all charm despite the threats looming, smiled for her. "You had one very similar when you stayed with me."

Agnes hugged the bear. "Miss Candy said I could only bring one today."

Reddington smiled, his gaze shifting over to Howard and the other man knew he had a glare latched onto him. He pulled himself up as much as he could in his hospital bed, not missing the constant, weary gaze from Katarina Rostova in the corner. She had never liked him, but the feeling was mutual, despite the fact that they were both well aware of the other's worth when it came down to it. They'd proven that already.

The man he'd counted as a friend for decades sighed. "It doesn't need to be this way, Howard. You and I both know what secrets can do to people. Elizabeth has been through enough."

"You're protecting yourself, not her."

"You do sound like your son. Or he sounds like you. Either way."

Agnes slipped off the bed and started over to Katarina, her dark eyes sharp and focused, and it took half a beat before Howard was able to tear his eyes away. Scottie was only a shout away if Katarina looked like she was going to be a threat. "He knows you and so do I. Do you plan to make good on your threat?"

That smile didn't fade. "What's the play here, Howard? Scottie gives over enough information to allow us to believe that she's not hiding anything while you play the skeptic? This ruse is usually flipped."

"We're just trying to protect our boy, Red. You're the one threatening."

"Enough," Katarina grumbled and Howard's attention snapped to her, making sure her tone wasn't directed at Agnes. The little girl was sitting quietly without appearing bothered by the conversation around her. Katarina was ignoring Agnes in turn, her gaze shifting between the two old friends. "Scottie understands the stakes, Howard. Do you?"

Whatever response he might have given was cut short as Scottie strode back into the room with her cellphone in hand. "I still can't reach Tom, but Nez picked up." Her dark gaze slid over and Howard found himself with only a moment's warning. "They've been running an op after Garvey."

"And you knew nothing about that?" Reddington asked pointedly.

"We wouldn't divulge your secret and Tom and Liz would stop looking into it. That was our deal," Scottie snapped irritably, but her mask of cool was replaced almost immediately. "But no. We didn't know what they were up to."

Katarina studied her for a moment, but finally drew back. "If they have him, this works in all of our favour. He has intel."

"And we'll get to that. I'm meeting Nez at the DC office. I assume you're joining?"

"Scottie-"

His wife turned towards him and Howard's argument died before it left his lips. She covered the space between them and took his hand, leaning down into a kiss. Promises were made there, but even as they broke Howard felt what was left of his breath leave in a sigh. She would handle the leg work while he couldn't, and in doing so, she would draw Red and Katarina away. If they needed them or not for this war Kat was so sure was coming, that was yet to be seen. Howard wasn't so certain as Scottie was by this point.

"I'll be back soon," she promised. "Agnes, you'll take good care of him?"

The three-year-old nodded soberly. Scottie pressed one more kiss to his lips before straightening and Katarina shot him a look on the way out.

"Grandpa?"

Howard looked over and Agnes was crawling onto his bed. Her little nose was scrunched up in thought and she clutched her father's childhood toy to her chest. She didn't say anything right away, though, and Howard reached out, instantly finding his granddaughter closer so that she could curl up against him, surprisingly careful of his broken wrist. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm scared."

The words hung in the air just a moment before he pulled in a breath. "What are you scared of, Agnes?"

She shrugged and he wrapped his arm around her. His movement was hesitant, but she melted into him instantly. "Bad people hurting Mama and Daddy."

"Your parents are very smart, Agnes, and very…. good at what they do. No one is going to hurt them."

"Hurt you," she said sulkily and he found himself chuckling.

"Your daddy's smarter than me," he said softly, "and your mom won't let anyone hurt him and he won't let anyone hurt her. We just have to be… patient."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be brave."

Howard shifted at that as best as he could, finding a pair of dark blue eyes looking up at him. "Who said you weren't brave?"

"I'm scared."

"Brave people can be scared, sweetie."

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding and sinking back down. He reached over with his good hand and stroked her dark hair, feeling her relax and a smile tugging at him.

To his right his cell phone rang and Howard reached carefully for it, the name lighting up the screen. "Dr Gramble. I hope you have good news for us."

"That is not your happy face."

Tom slammed his pacing to a stop, the call barely ended as Matias Solomon spoke from his place slouched down in a chair with his expensive shoes propped on the table next to him. He was watching Tom with a vaguely amused expression. "That was Nez. We're on the clock."

Some of the amusement faded. "Damn. I thought we'd have more time."

"Doesn't look like it. They're flying down and that means we need to get any intel that Reddington can't have before he gets here." He didn't wait for a response as he turned, long legs carrying him around the corner to the alcove that Dumont and Aram were tucked away in. They were so caught up in their work that neither looked up until he tapped the desk, drawing both of their attentions simultaneously.

Aram pulled his headset off first. "Are they here?"

"On their way, but so is Reddington."

"That's not good," Dumont grumbled, his eyes still focused through his glasses at the computer screen in front of him. "What's our ETA?"

"For Garvey, any second. For Reddington, I'd say three hours tops."

"You got any of those fancy spy skills to unleash on Garvey, or you just gonna sic Solomon after him?"

Tom didn't miss the uneasy look Aram wore at Dumont's question. His gaze shifted to the monitor that showed the outdoor surveillance they had set up and they had already arrived and were in the process of unloading Garvey from the suburban with a bag over his head. He stumbled, disoriented, and Samar jerked him upright and forward. Tom felt his chest tighten a little at the sight of him, anger threaten to boil over. "Liz and I get first go," he said dangerously. "Solomon's gonna have to wait his turn. Need you guys to make sure audio and video is up so that we can play it back."

"Gotcha covered, Tom-Tom."

"Uh…. Tom?"

He paused, Aram's hesitant voice stopping him. "Yeah."

"This is… I shouldn't be running this program here, you know, outside of the Post Office, but it'll read the inflections in his voice and give us a readout. It's not nearly as accurate as a lie detector, but it's something."

Tom found his lips twitching up at one corner despite himself. "Thanks, Aram."

"We'll be searching out keywords, running it through our systems in real time too," Dumont added. "This bastard's going to give up the goods if he means to or not."

The smile remained and Tom looked back to the screen where they were slamming Garvey into the chair, cuffing him to the table. Liz circled around him and ripped the bag off his head. It was showtime.

Notes: I had a friend that said that everyone should have a turn punching Garvey in the face, and I think I agree lol This guy has everything coming and more.

Happy Fourth to all of my American friends that read this. I watched fireworks last night and don't need to be over at the family's house until this afternoon, so I'm going to try to catch up with some writing. I realized that I'm only a chapter and a half ahead right now. While that does tend to happen in the last third of a story for me, I've been working on an original project that has taken over my brain and demanded attention. That means today is Breathe Again day. Time to finish the current chapter I'm on.

Next Time: The Keens finally have a chance at Garvey.

Chapter Text

They had him. It was still difficult to wrap her mind around, even as they piled out of the Halcyon SUV and Samar half dragged Garvey by the collar of his jacket. Liz felt an anger, a hated boil deep inside of her as she watched him stumble with a bag pulled down over his head. He had been silent during the drive and Liz had played that evening over and over again in her head. The blood, the pain, and the fear. The overwhelming fear. She could still see Garvey's part, even if her injury left blanks in other places. There was nothing missing about the way he had stooped over her husband and stabbed him again and again and again or about how his people had covered her face with plastic, ready to smother her on his order.

Now they had him and she found herself relieved that Cooper didn't appear to be in the location set up for them.

Liz didn't see Tom as she entered, but Solomon was standing there to escort them to the room set up for the interrogation. He fell into step with her so that he could speak lowly and Garvey wouldn't overhear. "Nez called. Mommy dearest and Reddington are on their way in."

She blinked and while his tone had been light, his expression was deadly serious. "This needs to happen fast."

"If you and Tom want to get what you need to even things out with Reddington it does," he murmured. "I'd offer my services, but I doubt either if you would let me take first swing."

Liz met his gaze. "We've got that handled." She watched his smile grow.

"You got depths, Keen. I underestimated you."

She snorted and strode past him into the main room where the Halcyon operatives were cuffing Garvey to a table. Samar was watching him carefully, her expression blank, and Ressler walked past. He paused next to her, everything in his posture screaming this was well outside of his comfort zone. He knew though. She knew he did. If she let herself she could still see him standing in the snow over his old partner.

What if it had been Tom?

It had been this time, and even if she had gotten him back the rage as still there. Garvey had stolen too much.

Ressler tried for a reassuring smile as he passed by and Samar wasn't far behind him. They were giving her space and she couldn't risk wasting any time.

Liz's boots echoed softly as she crossed the space between the hall and where Garvey sat with the bag still over his head. She circled around, ripping the bag from place as she did and watched him blink owlishly through skewed glasses before he tried to focus in on her. A low, mirthless chuckle left him. "Agent Keen. You've crossed some dangerous lines… kidnapping a federal agent. Not to mention taking Lilly. If anything happens to her-"

"Jennifer's safe for now," Liz said pointedly. "You should be more worried about yourself." Her gaze flickered behind him wet briefly as she saw Tom slip around the corner and approach from behind Garvey, his footsteps eerily silent on the hard floor and his gaze focused.

"You're in over your head, Agent Keen," Garvey said, his expression infuriatingly smug. "Just like your husband. Neither of you had a clue-"

He never knew what hit him as Tom approached from behind and, in one smooth motion, slammed Garvey's face against the table in front of him hard enough to break his glasses. The US Marshal didn't sit up immediately, dazed as Tom circled around to stand next to her. "Why don't you tell us what we don't know, Garvey?" he asked smoothly. The look in Liz's husband's eyes was dangerous. She had seen it before. It used to terrify her, but here and now she understood it. She felt it stir inside her.

Garvey pulled himself up slowly, his broken glasses slipping on his bloody nose and Tom gave a small smirk. "Remember me?"

Tom had knocked him hard enough that it was taking a moment to refocus and he looked up at them, though his eyes were trying to focus on Tom. Liz resisted the urge to step between them. He was secured and dazed while Tom was free and standing. And he needed this as much as she did.

"She said something about you," Garvey managed to chuckle. "I thought she was wrong. I'd heard you didn't make it, and my sources aren't usually wrong."

"They were wrong," Liz said sharply and finally Garvey's attention swiveled around to her. "And they won't help you now. The Nash Syndicate, the Cabal, they can't protect you."

"That little punk Solomon," Garvey grumbled and Tom snorted.

"Solomon's not your problem."

"So that's who you work for. Halcyon. Since when does Reddington hire them?"

"Why don't we talk about who you work for?" Liz suggested.

"I didn't do anything wrong. Why won't you people let me go?"

Nez glanced over irritably at the young woman that she had taken personal responsibility for when she had been caught up in the sting. She had been pacing the last twenty minutes, her agitation driving Nez crazy, but she had stopped now and had her surprisingly piercing gaze set on her. There was something there. Something more than the innocent, scared woman that they saw. Nez just didn't know what yet. "Until we finish with Garvey I'd rather know exactly where you are."

"What are you doing to Ian?"

"Questioning him."

"He didn't do the things you think he did."

"If you really think that, why did you go straight to him to ask why?" Nez watched the other woman shrink back just a little and she drew herself up to her full height. "You met Tom? That's my partner. The man's like a brother to me, and your buddy Ian killed him. He flatlined. Garvey shot Solomon and if we hadn't been there he would have died. His people nearly killed Liz Keen and the group he works for nearly killed Howard. I'll be damned if he hurts anyone else I care about, and if I have to personally babysit you to make sure you don't throw this op into chaos, fine." Nez was fuming by the time she had finished, anger boiling over at every name representing someone she had nearly lost because of Garvey.

"Are they going to hurt him?" Jennifer Reddington asked softly.

"I sure as hell hope so."

The office that they were held up in fell back into silence, Jennifer moving over to the couch under the rows of photos on the wall and sinking down. Nez perked as she heard voices coming up the stairs towards the office. She tensed, reaching for her weapon as the door opened in case anyone other than the people she was expecting walked through. She immediately released it as Susan Scott Hargrave strode through. Nez had to resist the urge to grab for it again as Reddington and Katarina Rostova followed. She hadn't expected them to come up to the office with Scottie.

From the couch Jennifer Reddington made a small sound, drawing attention over, but her eyes were locked on Reddington. Nez watched her watching him, and the Concierge of Crime tilted his head a little before turning to Nez. "You didn't mention that you had a guest."

There was something in his voice and after half a beat Nez realised that he didn't recognise her. No. He wouldn't, would he? She wasn't his daughter. He had taken on the dead man's name and identity for a reason that none of them - well, most of them, she thought as she glanced at Scottie and Katarina - knew.

Jennifer wasn't aware of that though. She had no way to know, but she did seem to recognise that the man in front of her - the man she thought was her father - didn't have a clue who she was. With each second that ticked became a little more clear. She didn't move though, didn't pull his attention back around to her. Instead she sat very still and watched, and he seemed to lose interest, and for just a moment Nez thought that they'd avoided at least one version of a blow up as he turned his full attention on her. "Scottie seems to be under the impression you're the women to speak to for the location that Garvey's being held at."

"Wait," Jennifer said quietly. "You're taking him to Ian? He'll kill him. I won't… I can't let him do that."

Reddington shot her an exasperated look. "Who is this?"

Nez resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She'd taken Jennifer Reddington away to keep her from being that wildcard, but she hadn't bet on Scottie bringing Raymond Reddington there, and when she had dared to hope that they might even slip by even this scenario, that was blown to hell with three simple words that seemed to be setting Jennifer's blood to boil. She stood and Nez fixed a glare on her. "Sit down," she ordered. Of course she had to pick that moment to be a nuisance.

Jennifer didn't take her seat, though. She didn't even seem to hear Nez. Instead her blue eyes were fixed on her would-be father, her expression an odd mix of anger and betrayal and hurt. "You don't even recognise me, do you?"

Reddington blinked, looking at her a little closer now and Scottie shot Nez a questioning look.

"You don't recognise your own daughter," Jennifer huffed and Reddington's expression shifted just a little. "The one you abandoned twenty-eight years ago?"

"Jennifer," Reddington breathed.

"You left us… left me. For what? Do you even think about us anymore? I went to bed that night and my world was perfect, but by morning… Most eight-year-olds wake up Christmas morning looking for presents, but I woke up to find my daddy - my good daddy - gone. No explanation. We didn't know what happened to you." She drew in a shaky breath, her gaze sharp. "You weren't good, were you? You're still not."

Reddington turned a sharp look on Nez and he looked almost rattled. "Why is she here?"

"I can't let him hurt Ian. I can't. Ian's protecting me from him and now it's my turn. I have to protect him."

"We don't have time to waste with this, Raymond," Katarina said quietly and her gaze flickered over to the woman, lingering only a moment and there was just a hint of something there. It wasn't quite guilt, not quite regret, but Nez thought it was close. She did wonder what these two had done in all of this.

Scottie offered the angry young woman a smile. "We're not going to let him hurt Garvey," she said in a voice so smooth that Nez almost believed her. "I need to borrow Nez for a bit. Is there anything you need while we're away?"

"I want to see Ian."

Scottie's smile didn't fade and her voice was sweeter than the words. "That's entirely up to him. He has to answer some questions first, and until we have those answers he can't see anyone. Once he has, I'll do what I can to arrange a meeting. You'll see that he's safe."

"And then what?"

"And then he has to answer for what he's done." She turned, motioning for Nez to follow her before Jennifer could argue again, and the two women moved past Reddington.

His gaze lingered on Jennifer just a moment and Nez heard her call out to him. "If you ever cared about me at all, you won't hurt him."

What Reddington said in return was lost to the distance that they had already put between them. Scottie moved very close. "Did they have what they need?"

"Not last I heard."

She risked the smallest of glances back. "We'll take the long way."

It was the best they could do to buy Tom and the others time.

They were running out of time. Reddington and Katarina were inbound and Garvey still hadn't given them anything to go on. Samar, Ressler, and Solomon had moved to a back room to go over footage of the interrogations that the Keens had conducted to see if any of them could uncover any small twitch, any stray word that might provide them with a new path. If it was there, they hadn't found it.

"There has to be a way to break him on the bones," Liz said softly and Tom looked over from where they were seated together, looking for the angle that they both knew was there but hadn't found yet.

He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. "Why does he want them? That's gotta be the key."

"To control Reddington?"

"But has he? He hasn't released the information. He and Reddington have been at odds…. What does he want?" He sat up again and looked over to Liz, something clicking in his mind. "To protect her."

"What?"

"Jennifer."

He saw the same realization flash into place for Liz and she straightened in her own chair. "He didn't know Reddington wasn't Reddington until he got ahold of the bones."

"And there was nothing in that DNA test to explain why Red's posing as Raymond Reddington. Just because he's not her biological father doesn't mean he's not a threat."

"Maybe even a bigger one if she can shed light on everything."

"And we have her. We've had the leverage that we need the whole time." He stood, his chair scraping the floor as he did and Liz followed. They wouldn't hand Jennifer over to Reddington, but Garvey didn't know that. He didn't have any way to, and that would work to their advantage. They had to work this just right though.

Tom slammed to a stop, his wife nearly running into him from behind. "Let me go in on my own."

"Tom…"

"It's fine. It looks like I'm going behind your back, that things are getting desperate."

She sighed. "And desperate people are more likely to leverage innocent civilians."

"Yeah."

He could see the reluctant acceptance in her eyes. She held his gaze a moment and her fingers brushed his cheek. "Alright."

Tom flashed her a quick smile and turned to kiss the tips of her fingers before moving into the interrogation space, all signs of excitement washing away immediately as he crossed into Garvey's line of sight. The man was still chained to the table, still bloodied from their first encounter, and his glasses were broken and no longer sat straight on his nose. Tom felt the shift in himself, his expression darkening and Garvey saw it too as he looked up.

"Miss our little chat so soon?" Garvey asked smugly and Tom stopped on the other side of the table.

"The bones."

"What about them?"

"Where are they?"

Garvey's gaze slid past Tom to sweep across the otherwise empty room. "Wife decided not to join this time?" the marshal asked and Tom pushed a short breath out through his nose.

"Liz doesn't need to be here for this," he said clearly.

"If you're trying to pull a good cop bad cop routine on me, I'm not biting, Keen. I've been in law enforcement long enough to know, and just 'cause you're with the private sector doesn't make it any different at its core. You may take a swing at me that an agent can't get away with, but in the end, there's only so much you can get away with with them right over your shoulder."

"Here's the thing," Tom said as he held Garvey's gaze, tilting his head just a little. "You don't know anything about me. You thought you did. Pissant is what you called me? Then I worked for Reddington. Then Halcyon. In the end, you really don't know anything."

"I know you're not getting the location of those bones or anything else you want."

"I am, and you want to know why? Who I work for now doesn't matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. They're just employers. My training's something else though. That shows you what I'm capable of. Ever heard of the St Regis program?" He waited a beat, watching the smallest shift in the older man's expression. He knew exactly what that would mean. "Good. I don't have to explain it to you then." He held Garvey's eyes and he was making him nervous then. "I'm not going to threaten you anymore, Garvey. That's just running up against a brick wall. The girl though… she's something else entirely."

"Leave her out of this."

"I'd love to. I really would. My wife… Liz is a better person than me. We don't know what Reddington would do with someone that could ID him as a fake, but I'm more willing to find out than she is, and I won't lose a second's sleep over it. Jennifer Reddington will, I'd bet. You will, knowing that all you had to do was give up the location and we would have everything we need to keep Reddington at bay until this is over."

He waited, letting Garvey stew on that for a moment. He was presenting him with an out if he would take it. The bones wouldn't be in his possession, but what good did they do him now that he was in Halcyon's custody? They didn't. He had no access to them, no way to control Reddington and keep Jennifer safe. If that was his goal - and Tom was certain now it was - then something had to give.

"What assurances do I have that she'll be safe?" the fed asked at last.

"My word."

"That's not worth much."

"It's what you've got. You give me the bones and I'll make sure he stays away from her, but this has to happen now."

Garvey's gaze finally dropped. "Costa Rica," he said roughly, "with an old… friend."

"This friend have a name?" Garvey latched a glare on him and Tom set his jaw. "You gotta finish this, Garvey. You don't and she goes straight to Reddington."

"Ross. Sutton Ross. Goes by Max Birmingham."

"I don't have to tell you that if this is bad intel-"

"I know McCready's boys' reputation."

Tom smirked a little before turning, picking up his speed the moment he was out of sight. Liz met him halfway to the monitors. "Reddington's here."

"Okay," he breathed. They were cutting it close, but it wasn't impossible.

"You have a plan?"

"I have a plan," he promised, "but I need you to work with me. I need you to trust me."

"I trust you," she answered without pause and he believed her. They moved together down the way to the computer room where the others were already gathering.

"Tom, they're incoming. We got minutes, man," Dumont greeted.

"Yeah. How fast can you put some of the interrogation material on a loop to make it look like it's live?"

"Pretty fast. Whatcha thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I need Reddington to think I'm in that room and buy me time to get wheels up."

"You're going after the bones?"

Tom glanced over to Ressler and he nodded. "Yeah. And I'll need back up if you're game."

"I have your back," his wife's partner confirmed.

"Me too," Aram said as he stood, and Tom shot him a questioning look.

"This is a field op, Aram. It can go dangerous fast and we can't-"

"I know, but I'm field certified," he argued and his eyes darted away, his tone somehow both nervous and determined all at once. "I won't hold you back, and you may need tech support when you get there. I mean, there's no telling what kind of security that they'll have and what you'll need on the ground, and if you're trying to make it look like you're in the interrogation room, you can't exactly call in." He looked back up, trying for a smile that fell just a little short. "And it's, uh, also not exactly a secret that I have… trouble keeping things from Mr Reddington."

Samar raised an eyebrow. "That's true."

"Fine. Okay," Tom said quickly. He fished a burner out of his pocket and handed it to Ressler. "Third number saved is the pilot. Tell him to get the jet ready for a trip to Costa Rica. We have four and a half hours in the air to put the op into motion."

"What are you going to do?"

"Make sure Reddington sees my face. The man thinks he can read me. It'll buy us time. I'll be out at the car in ten." He turned back to Liz as Ressler and Aram moved into action, half expecting her to balk at the plan. Instead she offered him a struggling smile.

"Be safe."

"You too. I need you to convince him. He thinks he has a read on you too."

"Let's prove him wrong," Liz murmured and he grinned.

"Devious," he teased.

"You know it."

Voices sounded from down the way and Tom risked a glance over to the monitors to see that Dumont had taken them offline to start the reboot. As he looked back around Reddington was walking through the entrance into the little alcove, Katarina, Nez, and Scottie with him. His mother caught his gaze very briefly and he offered a strained smile. "How's Howard?"

"Better. Your daughter is keeping him in line."

The smile turned a little more real. "I knew she would."

"Elizabeth," Reddington greeted. "I hear you picked up Ian Garvey."

Liz shrugged. "Staying away from Garvey was never part of the deal."

"It wasn't, no. Tom, if I might have a moment?"

That didn't bode well. Tom schooled his expression and nodded, stepping to the side with the man that he'd once thought was his father-in-law. He watched Katarina move towards Liz, but he couldn't focus on that as Reddington spoke. "I understand the drive to go after Garvey, and as Elizabeth stated that was never a stipulation of our agreement-"

"There was no agreement. You're leveraging my health to get what you want."

Reddington bobbled his head a little at that. "If you'd kept to your own business it wouldn't be necessary, but that's neither here nor there. You know the stakes with the Cabal. You know Garvey's allegiances. Elizabeth and you did…. well bringing him in."

"Did that physically hurt to say? Kind of looked like it."

Reddington rolled his eyes at that. "Despite what you believe, I'm not your enemy in this. Perhaps not a friend, but not your enemy. What have you gotten from him?"

Tom's lips thinned as he pressed them together. "Not much. He's on lockdown about the Cabal. That's the real goal in getting to him."

"I agree. What has he said about the bones?"

"Nothing yet," Tom lied easily.

There was a beat of hesitation as Reddington tried to read him and Tom looked up to meet his eyes defiantly. Finally, Reddington loosed a breath. "The moment he does you're to report that information to me, do you understand?"

Tom barked a laugh, short and sarcastic. "Really? You think I work for you now?"

"I think you understand what's at stake, Tom. I believe, despite your tendency for recklessness that you truly do want to protect Elizabeth in all of this and that you'll do whatever you feel you need to to keep your family safe. You can't do that from the sidelines and I have the ability to put you there."

"So that's the way it is now, huh? Our… agreement doesn't mean a damn thing. You want something new and there it is."

"Don't be difficult, Tom."

He shook his head, a mirthless chuckle escaping. He met Reddington's eyes. "Just a foot to the northeast, right?"

Reddington blinked, but seemed to catch the reference. "I took no pleasure in what we all thought was your death."

"But it would have made your life a lot easier. You wouldn't have to deal with me, handle me, and it wouldn't have been your fault. Garvey would have done the job for you."

The older man's expression closed off. "The moment he gives you the information, Tom. Don't test me on this."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he growled and turned, starting out and patting Dumont on the shoulder as he passed by, taking a turn once he was out of view towards the exit rather than the interrogation room.

Notes: I cannot express to you how long I've waited for Tom to slam Garvey's face against the table like that. It's been a scene in my mind from pretty early on in writing this thing. Honestly, I just wanted to let the Keens pummel him, but that really would have been counter productive to the information they needed. Ah well. The story's not over, right? :P

I'm also rather thrilled with the way the Red and Tom conversation played out in this chapter. As much as I hate 5.08, there's a lot about it that I loved. Tom and Red's banter over the years has been some of my favourite in the show, and the comment about the bullet being just a foot to the northeast and Red popping him on the back of the head as he stitched his shoulder up was such a lovely moment the first time around. It took on a bit of a darker twist with the way the episode ended, but I couldn't wait to find a way to work it into this story. Red may not have been excited to see Liz in pain with what happened to Tom, but he benefited from it and it wasn't like he sent someone after Tom (like Zamani) or took the shot himself, so he couldn't be held directly responsible. It's something that's really bothered me in canon, and continues to irk me, so here we have it.

Next Time: Liz meets her mother while Tom reaches out to an old friend for help setting up the op in Costa Rica.

Chapter Text

It was one thing to know that her mother was alive, but another thing altogether to finally lay eyes on her. Katarina Rostova stood there in the Halcyon black site and she looked very much like the vague memories Liz had of her. Tall and lean, red hair and beautiful, clear blue eyes. Her smile was not completely honest, but it resonated with her estranged daughter, giving her a long lost sense of familiarity with the woman she hadn't seen since she was four years old. Clipped memories of the fire was still all she had, and even those shrouded Katarina in darkness, but there were others. Simpler memories of sun lit afternoons in the Summer Palace and her mother's pleasant voice as she spoke to her in Russian. Those memories were like a dream, only a little more real than her childhood fantasies of the prima ballerina.

This woman was real, though, and as Liz heard Tom's and Red's quiet conversation escalate behind her she was reminded of the gravity of the situation. This wasn't the fantasy come to life. This was the woman that had essentially given Tom over to Reddington and had tried to blackmail Ressler. She was vicious and she was dangerous, and if Liz was going to buy her husband and the others time she needed to make this master spy believe that she trusted her. That she was willing to work with her. If she had any affection for her at all, Liz needed to find it and use it. She could do that. It had certainly been done enough to her over the years.

"Masha." The name left Katarina's lips with a hint of her native accent and she gave the barest of smiles. There was something in the way she said it. "You look conflicted."

Liz bit back every reason why she was and instead let the words roll around her mind until she was confident that she'd made them into what they needed to be. "I am," she said slowly, drawing in a trembling breath. "I have…. so many questions."

"I know," her mother answered, her voice soft and almost kind. "And I wish I had answers for all of them, but as you've learned things are rarely that simple."

Tom's snapping retort and retreating footsteps signaled that there would be no goodbyes between them as he left. As far as Reddington and Katarina would be concerned he was simply going to the interrogation room to lay into another round at Garvey. It was Liz's job to hold them steady there, and just as he was trusting her to do that, she had to trust that he would be as safe as he could be on his own op. "Things rarely are," she admitted softly and couldn't stop her gaze from drifting to the empty doorway he had just passed through.

Katarina reached forward, a pet name in Russian falling from her lips and Liz found herself staring at the woman as her palm pressed against her face. It was such a gentle gesture and in that moment Liz realised that this might work. While she had been questioning, wondering, and imagining what her mother could be like year after year, perhaps Katarina Rostova had done the same for her daughter. "You've grown into such a strong, beautiful woman. I'm so proud of you."

Liz's brows drew together and she reached up, her hand touching Katarina's. "Part of me feels like I know you," she admitted carefully. "There was this diary that was picked up as evidence a couple of years ago and it… there was so much there. I learned things about you and about…"

"Your father," Katarina murmured and for the first time Liz realised that the Raymond in the journal wasn't the same that she had come to know.

"Yes," she breathed. "I don't remember much."

"Sometimes it's better that way."

Liz glanced back to where Reddington was making his way over to Dumont, asking about the video system and the surveillance on Tom's supposedly impending interrogation. He wanted to hear what was happening and Scottie moved to begrudgingly tell him it could happen. Perfect actors playing out their parts. Liz briefly wondered how much Tom had been able to let his mother in on. She turned her attention back on her own. "I have questions," she repeated.

Katarina lips twitched downward. "I can't tell you what you want to know, Masha."

"What I need to know."

"You only think that." She sighed, glancing away. "Your past doesn't hold the weight that you think it does."

"You don't get to decide that for me."

The two women stood there for a long moment as a silent battle of the wills waged and the world marched on around them. She wasn't going to give, and pushing it would gain her nothing. Liz loosed a breath and she felt the muscles in her face pull just a little. "Okay…. okay. Reddington - or whoever he really is - and I have come to a…. deal."

"I'm aware of it," Katarina acknowledged.

"I want to trust you. More than anything."

"But?"

"But I need something from you. Not the answers about my past," she added quickly at the look she received. "I need your word that you won't lie to me. You won't manipulate me. If you can't or you won't say something, just tell me that."

She waited a long moment, her eyes holding Katarina's, and she saw it there before the older woman nodded. "I think we can make that work."

Liz let herself fall forward, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck and she felt Katarina relax in turn. "Good," she breathed out.

"Feeds are up," Dumont announced and the two women parted. Liz had her. She wasn't sure how long it would last, but for the moment she was playing Katarina Rostova and winning, all the while wondering if she should be worried about how easily the deception came.

It was a four and a half hour flight to Costa Rica and about that back, depending on the winds. Even with nine hours in the air Tom seemed confident that all Liz and the others needed to buy them was a twelve hour reprieve. He was on the phone and connecting with people before they had even taken off, and with each one sided conversation that Ressler overheard he saw any hopes of handling this in at least a semi legal fashion fading away. Not that there had been many to begin with. The FBI had no jurisdiction and Tom's above-board connections were few and far between. There was something about the way he spoke in quiet, authoritative tones that reminded the federal agent that this man had spent most of his life falling into whatever role he needed to to get the job done. He wasn't sure exactly how Tom knew the people he'd enlisted to help, but Ressler would take the bet that they didn't know the man that they had come to know. Maybe not even by the same name.

They were locals, Tom had said after one call where he caught Ressler trying to assess the situation. He knew them through an old contact that was trustworthy if paid appropriately. They would set the groundwork and they could fall into motion the moment that they touched down. He was convinced the op would take two hours, tops, and while Ressler had seen how quickly Tom Keen could put a plan into action, that seemed optimistic.

"You wouldn't really have hurt Miss Roth…. or hand her over to Mr Reddington, would you?"

Ressler was pulled out of his thoughts by Aram's voice and he found his teammate watching Tom carefully. The other man grimaced a little, setting his phone down and he looked like he was trying to shift gears mentally. "I needed Garvey to believe I would."

"That's not really an answer."

A thin smile pulled the corners of his lips. "No, I wouldn't hurt my wife's sister, Aram."

The technician loosed a breathy chuckle. "Right. Of course not. I knew that."

Tom's phone buzzed and Ressler looked over. "You sure you trust these guys?"

"For what I'm paying them, yeah."

What Halcyon was paying them, Ressler assumed, but maybe that was one and the same now.

Tom's dark blue eyes flickered to meet a paler shade. "It's fine, Ressler. Trust me."

A small smile peeked the agent's lips. "I thought we had already been over that I don't."

Tom flashed a grin with that and the pilot came over the intercom to let them know that they would be making their approach soon.

"Okay, so I've been running Dumont's program through these redacted files and… kind of amazing and terrifying all at once. Glad he's on our side."

"Focus, Aram," Ressler huffed.

"Right. Sutton Ross. He was working for the Chinese in the 80's and was set to steal plans for a stealth fighter. Looks like our people figured it out, set him up with fake plans, and the Chinese were not happy. They turned him over to us, but he disappeared before they could bring him in."

"So what's the tie to Garvey?" Tom asked and Aram's expression lit.

"Garvey was sent to arrest him."

"Looks like he made a different call," Ressler mused. "So what? Stored him away somewhere and bought his loyalty?"

"Or earned it," Tom said thoughtfully. "He builds power, uses loyalties and fear to get whatever job he's doing done, hiding a ton of secrets… The way he works reminds me of Reddington."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow and caught Tom's gaze. "What do you think his endgame is?"

"Garvey or Reddington?"

"Reddington."

The dark haired man sat back and Ressler watched as he set his jaw very slightly in what he had about decided was a subtle tell of stress with him. "I don't know," he said after a long moment. "Honestly…. I guess a part of me hoped he was her dad. We think we know one thing and then it changes all over again, but…." He closed his eyes, his head tilting back against the bench seat behind him and when he reopened them he didn't bother to look at Ressler or Aram, but kept his gaze focused on the ceiling of the plane. "He hired me to spy on her. He can call it whatever he wants, but he invaded her life without any right to and keeps invading her life without giving her answers. At some point something has to give."

"Do you think he'd hurt her?" Aram asked quietly and the gears moved in the belly of the plane below them, the wheels unfolding.

Tom shrugged. "I don't know. I've gone back and forth." He straightened. "But I won't give him the chance to."

"None of us will," Ressler assured him and there was something in the way Tom looked at him after. He couldn't quite place the expression, and after a long moment he thought that maybe it was just that Tom wasn't sure himself.

Slowly the younger man smiled. "Thanks, Ress."

Ressler rolled his eyes but didn't correct him, only causing the smile to flash into a grin as the plane landed on the tarmac. They rolled and Aram shuffled his gear back into his bag and Tom popped a pill back as the jet slowed to a stop. The three men gathered what they needed and didn't waste time moving towards the door.

It opened and someone on the runway was already pushing a set of stairs into place, but Ressler could just barely see past where Tom stood. There were two men waiting for them, but between them was a woman. Tom let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "I'll be damned."

Ressler squinted. "Is that who I think it is?"

"I didn't expect her to come herself."

"Who?" Aram demanded and he was suddenly at Ressler's back, trying to peer over him.

Gina Zanetakos smirked as she strode forward, pulling her sunglasses off. "Hello, family man. I'd heard you were dead."

They had been there for hours and had learned nothing new. Dumont had tried to walk Reddington through the feeds, the set up, and the detailed readouts that his programs were giving him and Scottie had watched as the so-called Concierge of Crime stared at her leading tech expert with a blank expression that should have amused her. It would have amused her if the situation hadn't been balanced so delicately on a razorblade. As it stood one wrong move would send things tumbling into chaos, and while she found her general loathing of Red increasing with each passing moment that he threatened her son, a part of her knew that there was some truth in what was at play. The Cabal was a dangerous enemy, and they had all done what they could in the past three decades to protect themselves and put distance there. Now, as the barreled back into the mess, few of the key players truly trusted each other and they couldn't fight a war like that. If she was reading the situation correctly - and Scottie wasn't wrong often - Tom and Liz were playing at something. Exactly what she couldn't be certain, but she hoped that her faith was placed in the right side of this. If not, if they failed here, the whole thing could easily crumble and leave them all exposed.

"What did you think when you saw him?"

Scottie turned to see Katarina suddenly at her side, those clever blue eyes watching one of the monitors that showed Tom seated across from Garvey, the man beaten and bloodied and Tom utterly unphased by it. There was a coolness under pressure that he exuded, something that had drawn her to him as an operative, and an ease in which he shifted from one scenario to the next and simply adjusted to meet new obstacles. He had heart, though. Scottie had known that from the moment she had met him. The terror-struck expression as she had cradled his newborn daughter and the way he protected that little girl with everything he had in him. Solomon had called him a liability, but Scottie had known it was something more. It took something special for an operative that had been through the life he had, the training that he had, to keep his humanity.

"I wanted to hire him," Scottie answered with a fond smile.

"I doubt you receive many St Regis operatives at Halcyon."

"He was our first."

Katarina tilted her head. "I remember Bill. He was an ass, but the man knew how to train."

"Tom was his best."

"When did you know it was the Cabal?"

Scottie paused, the question heavy against her chest. She knew what Katarina meant, but in that moment all she could see when she let her eyes slip closed was the image of a beach house, a fight, and too much to drink followed by that horrible morning and her screams. Howard had walked all night and found their son gone when he returned in the morning. Stolen. "Instantly," she answered softly.

"They do know where to hit to control us," Katarina murmured, a rare pain audible in her voice. Scottie found herself looking over and she saw the expression to match. In that moment, she didn't think it was an act.

"What are they doing, Kat?"

"What they've always done. What they've always wanted to do. Systematically they've taken would-be dangers out of play. Halcyon. Us. They won't stop, though. Not now. Not until they succeed or are wiped off the board themselves." She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. "Do you still see Christopher in him?"

"Sometimes…. but he was so young and so much has happened since then. I see my little boy more in his daughter than in the man he's become."

She glanced over when Katarina didn't respond and found her watching Liz on the screen with Tom. There was a long moment of silence and it would seem that Katarina had decided that the conversation was finished. Scottie wouldn't get any more out of her until she was ready, so she excused herself to duck around the corner and out of the alcove to we if she could track down Nez who was yet to return after slipping away.

One of the Halcyon operatives looked ready to try to stop her at first, but after a beat of hesitation stepped aside. "Ms Hargrave," he greeted and she nodded as she passed him, a strange feeling tugging at her over the reaction. He wasn't the only guard stationed in that hallway, not the only one to look like they weren't quite sure if Scottie should be allowed to pass. What was Tom up to?

A short laugh escaped her as she rounded the corner. There was Nez, and with her stood Elizabeth Keen, a monitor behind them showing what had been presented as a live feed from the interrogation room, Liz leaning over the table and growling at Garvey. But she wasn't. She was right there.

Both women looked over at the sound and Scottie shot them an amused look. "So how long have they been gone?"

Liz's smile was slow, but it tilted her lips. "Four to five hours."

Scottie nodded, impressed. "You couldn't have had long to piece this together then."

"You didn't want to know."

It wasn't quite a question, but Scottie's gaze flickered over to the monitor as she thought on all the reasons why. "No, I didn't, but I know now, and we have to trust Tom to get what we need to even the playing field."

"You think we have them fooled?" Nez asked.

"For now." She looked back to Liz. "You've done a remarkable job with your mother. I'm sorry that you've been put in this situation."

Her daughter-in-law pulled in a deep breath and her eyes darted away. "Not the first time personal lives have gotten mixed up in this."

"It'll be over soon," Scottie promised.

"And then there's something else right after it."

Scottie grimaced a little at the tone. She knew it too well. She had lived it in the earliest years of her family's life. "There'll be a day it gets better," she said softly.

"Thirty years from now?" Liz asked, her tone flat and Scottie smiled a little.

"I'm not willing to wait that long. Are you?"

It had been a risk reaching out to St Regis, but Tom had been limited on his options. He needed a team that could put the op together within the hours it took for them to fly from DC to Costa Rica and would be comfortable with the limited information that he was providing them with. They knew who they were looking for, what they were looking for, but not what it meant. He trusted them to do their jobs, trusted them - more or less, and only if he paid them right - not to stab him in the back. Well, he had. He hadn't counted on Gina, and recent years had proved she had become even more of a wildcard than she had been in their younger years.

"What were you thinking?" Ressler demanded from behind and Tom ignored him as he started down the stairs, his steps light and he didn't dare let her see any weakness in him.

Gina was smiling, amusement dancing in her brown eyes, and she shook her head as she met him a few steps from the bottom step. She leaned forward and he stiffened as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, somehow even more entertained when he didn't return it. "Twinkies, cockroaches, and Jacob Phelps," she chuckled. "Don't worry. I don't get paid the full amount if I shoot you this time."

He broke into a lopsided smile. "There's a comforting thought. You upped the prices when you took over St Regis."

"You know we're good for it," she answered with a shrug. "Where'd you get that kind of cash anyway? I'd have heard if you'd landed a job that big."

"You thought I was dead. Why would you have been looking?"

"Fair enough. I see you brought friends."

Tom looked back to see that Ressler was halfway down the stairs and Aram looked like someone had socked him in the gut. He shot them both an apologetic look. He really hadn't expected Gina to show up, even if he knew the op wouldn't slip under her radar. He didn't think she'd have the time or the interest in helping him with a quick op, but apparently the chance to see if she could make him squirm was too much to pass up. That, or she wanted to make sure that the op went off without a hitch. Half the payment was pending until they finished what they had come to do. There was a lot of money riding on this. "Be nice," he said lowly and Gina winked at him.

"I know this one," she all but purred and it was everything Tom could do not to roll his eyes as she approached Ressler, her hand reaching out and she grabbed his tie. "You ready for round two?"

"We had it," Ressler growled, tugging the tie away from her. "You got a bullet to the shoulder and a trip to the hospital and then jail."

"Don't encourage her," Tom grumbled. "Gina, focus. We're on the clock."

She shot him a withering look and Aram looked more than a little relieved as he scurried the rest of the way down the stairs, clutching his computer bag close and looking like he might die if she turned her attention on him. There was only so much Tom could do to protect him from it.

"Have some faith, Jacob. My people have your op set for you." She motioned and Tom glanced back to make sure the others would follow before starting after her. They didn't look happy, but they weren't in full out rebellion yet.

Aram scuffled forward and Tom saw him glance up towards Gina to make sure she didn't look like she was listening as he leaned in and spoke very quietly. "Who's Jacob?"

Tom snorted a laugh and shrugged. "It's the name she met me under."

Gina started in to catch them up as they walked. Her people had located Ross. They had eyes on him but hadn't brought him in yet. She had sent Diaz and Estevez - their two locals, one of which Tom had trained in the St Regis program between ops - in to do recon and they had a full layout of the man's home, office space within it, and even a section in which he stored a few high-value items friends and colleagues under heavy guard. That would be where the duffel bag was being kept.

"Exactly what is the plan?" Ressler piped up as they followed Tom's former partner into a single story building that looked like they were being finished out for offices.

"We have a few options that are all set and ready," Gina answered. "Estevez already knew him-"

"I thought he might," Tom cut in and Gina flashed him a knowing smile.

"- and we can use that as an in."

"He's holding this for Garvey. He's not going to just hand it over," Ressler countered.

"No. Estevez doesn't think he can be bought, but he might be manipulated. If we played it just right I think he'd be willing to hand it over to one of Garvey's representatives."

"What are our other options?" Aram asked, his voice a little hesitant and he looked highly uncomfortable when he found himself under Gina's intense gaze.

"Infiltrate the home, take what we want. It's more straight forward, it would take all of us, but-"

"It's the quicker option," Tom finished and he knew by that look that it was the one she was leaning towards. "Garvey wasn't exactly thrilled with releasing this location and we don't have a good way to reach back out to our people with him right now to get any sort of release protocol. If you're sure where it is, the straightforward approach sounds like the best way to get in and get out."

"Also requires us to trust everyone to have our backs," Ressler grumbled.

Gina sighed. "I don't know about you, but I'm a professional. I can put the past behind me."

Tom looked over. "We've got a tight window for this. Reddington won't be fooled forever, and if he finds out where we've gotten to-"

"Yeah, I get it."

"So it's settled. Let me introduce you to my people."

Notes: The funny thing is that I didn't originally plan to bring Gina into this story, but then it just all sort of clicked and here she is. She remains one of my very favourite blacklisters to date and I loved it every time they'd bring her back. She'll be featured into the follow up I have planned to this story once it wraps. I don't think that one will be nearly as long as this one, but maybe just as crazy lol

Next Time: Things don't go quite as planned when Tom and the others make a move for the bones.

Chapter Text

It was strange, in a way, how easily Tom fell into step with Gina and vice versa. For all that had happened between them, all the threats and the damage and the years, they still worked well together. They always had. Just as promised, she had everything set up. Diaz laid out a map for the newcomers and Estevez walked them through the relationship that he already had with Sutton Ross. Garvey wasn't the only one that had asked Ross to hold valuables in his hideaway there in Costa Rica, and with the responsibility came a certain level of respect and fear. He stored things away for people and kept them secure, and in turn he received tips and ran the jobs he chose to. The man enjoyed what he did and with Garvey's help had never had to give it up.

The plan was simple enough. Estevez would act as the distraction, approaching Ross in his home with a potential client. He had already dropped the idea onto the table and had indicated that if and when the would-be client came made the decision to utilize Ross' services that things would need to happen quickly. Ressler was Tom's first choice to go in with Estevez, but the other man was firm on bringing Diaz in. He'd worked with her for years and they could read each other's movements and tells without hesitation. If things went sideways, they needed not only to be able to trust the people they were with, but to communicate effectively. Like he and Gina would. Tom had caught the drift and given to the request, almost hearing the smirk from Gina behind him.

Tom, Gina, Ressler, and Aram would infiltrate. The idea of Aram Mojtabai in the field still made Tom pause, but Ressler assured him that he'd seen the other man in action and he had passed all of his field training with flying colours. Aram would be key to disabling the security system once they got inside. He had the layout of the property already uploaded to his tablet and he'd be able to use it to hack into the system once they got to it.

In and out. Twenty minutes from the point of entry. That was their limit. It was tight, but they could do it.

Tom wrapped his long fingers around the gun, pulling in a breath and squeezing his eyes closed briefly as they paused at the outskirts of the property. They were entering through the side entrance. There were fewer immediate guards there, but more security cameras. Aram was already taking care of that for them, and as soon as he gave the go ahead the four of them would slip in, split up to work their way between the rounds, and make their way to the structure that Ross used to store what he needed. It was small, barely more than a shed, so finding the duffel bag shouldn't be too hard. In and out. Maybe not easy, but certainly doable.

"You'd have told me if you weren't good for this." Gina's voice drew his attention and he turned, finding her intense gaze fixed on him.

"Yeah."

"When we have the time you'll have to tell me the story."

"Right now I just need to focus on moving forward," Tom said lowly. He glanced to Aram. "Where are we?"

"Almost there…. Just a little bit of patience," he mumbled, working on the small device he carried that was allowing him to hack into Ross' security systems. "Gotcha. We're in. Feeds are looped, but with the sun dropping like it is, they're going to notice something is up."

"I know," Tom assured him and motioned.

The four of them moved, guns in hand, and slipped into the compound. Tom saw them split out of his peripheral vision but kept his own focus ahead. If they timed it just right, all four of them would be able to slip between guards. If not, the suppressors on their weapons should keep the noise to a minimum. As long as they did their job right they would be in and out without anyone knowing they were there. They might even be able to keep Estevez's relationship with Ross intact.

His own path took him across an open space that was in line with the security cameras and in the path of a guard, but his path allowed for him to slip around him and out of the range of the next guard down, much like the others. A small sound behind him drew Tom's attention and he dove for cover just in time, ducking behind some equipment that was set out as one of the guards passed by him. They were off. Not by much, but they were off. He grit his teeth, shifted, and moved around the other side to dart behind the guard. If he moved quickly enough-

A shout came from the other side of the shed, followed by the softer sound of a gunshot. His guard looked over and a much louder shot - one not muffled by a suppressor - went off. So much for quick and relatively easy.

Tom spun and his first shot went wide. He could see the tremble that remained with him despite the medication he took and he tried to steady his hands for another shot. He fired off two rounds back to back, at least one of the bullets hitting its target. He cursed lowly as the man went down and moved to pull him behind the pile of equipment and out of the open, reaching up to the comms as he did. "We're moving faster now."

"Heard the shot. What happened?" Ressler demanded.

"Two fewer guards," Gina's voice rang through. "It's fine. We pick up the pace and we'll be out of here in no time."

Well, that answered the question on who else had been spotted. Tom crushed the immediate suspicion that flooded through his mind as the others met him at the shed. They didn't have time for that now. They needed to get this finished.

The shed was clear. Of everything. Tom found himself staring for half a beat, dread setting in at the idea that all of this had been for nothing and he heard Ressler growl a curse behind him, turning on Gina. "If you set us up, Zanetakos-"

"It's my ass on the line too, fed," she snapped back.

"This doesn't make sense," Aram grumbled, pulling his tablet back out to search the layout that he had stored there. "There should be more. This is the best place to… This has to be it."

Tom sucked in a sharp breath, focusing himself as he moved forward, exploring the small space. His boots hit the old wood and it felt hollow under them. He looked around, his mind running through dozens of possibilities all at once, and finally he spotted what he was looking for. "There," he motioned and Aram stepped over with him to a set of crates.

"They've been moved recently," he murmured.

Tom hoped he was right, because if not they were wasting valuable time they'd need to get out. He and Aram took a side each, shifting the large boxes from their place, and below them was a door in the floor. "Okay," he breathed and jerked it open. There was a set of stairs leading down to a hidden underground basement of sorts. A storehouse. This was what they were looking for.

"Someone needs to stay up top."

"Well it's not going to be you," Ressler told Gina firmly.

"I will," Aram offered. "I can patch into the feeds from my end and get a good view on where they are."

Tom nodded. "Do it. We'll be back up as soon as we have the bag."

They descended the stairs, footsteps quick but careful of any waiting security measures they might find down below. They hit the bottom and a light switched on, revealing Gina to his right. Ressler moved around to his left, a low whistle echoing through the room. "Son of a bitch."

The shed had been deceptive enough. Below were rows and rows of hidden treasures, likely illegal gained. "You gonna be okay there, Ress?" Tom asked with the barest of smiles.

"We're leaving a tip with the local law enforcement on our way out."

"Just keep our name out of it," Gina snapped, moving forward. "There's a lot of space to cover."

"Good thing there's three of us. Split up," Tom instructed and he started for the far end and making his way down. While there was likely a method to the madness, they didn't have time to crack Ross' organizational code. They needed to find the bag and get out.

"What's so important about this bag anyway?" Gina called out from a few rows down. "You said it had bones in it. Whose bones?"

"I can't tell you that," Tom answered automatically.

"I heard you mention Reddington. I take it it has to do with him?"

Tom paused for half a beat, a low growl of frustration escaping him. "Drop it, Gina."

She came around the other end of the row and stopped, leaning against it. "My sources were clear, Jacob. You died at a public hospital after a home invasion. I've seen you take some hard hits, but people don't just pop back from the dead."

"No they don't."

"Okay, so you had a closer encounter than you ever have and you're still running straight into it. Something's here that's got you focused in on it. What?"

Tom turned from his search and she was suddenly right there, in his face and stubborn, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm protecting my family, that's all you need to know. If this falls through because you wasted limited time trying to find out what happened to me, you're not getting paid."

"Limited trust, hmm?"

"That's how we work best."

"Not always."

"Drop it and find the bag, huh?"

"Already did. It's two rows over."

Tom wasn't sure if he was thrilled or pissed at that and darted around her to the row she'd indicated. There it was, set into the shelf halfway through and he all but ripped it open. The bones and the DNA report were stored away and for just a moment he couldn't tear his eyes away. Finally, he drew a sharp breath in. "Ressler, we got it!"

"Guys, we have incoming," Aram's voice sounded over the comm.

Ressler rounded the corner as Tom was zipping the bag back up. "C'mon," he managed, starting for the stairs. He climbed them two at a time and Aram met him at the top, Gina and Ressler at his heels.

"Okay…. Okay they're closing in. Someone must have heard the shots."

"Then let's go," Tom snapped, but the door to the shed opened and they found themselves staring at weapons aimed at them.

Sutton Ross moved through his guards, a lazy sort of look fixing on Tom and the bag in his hand. "That's not yours."

"Not yours either."

A smile stretched the other man's face and he motioned, his people moving in and pulling guns away from Ressler, Aram, and Gina. Ross kept his own gaze fixed on Tom and reached out. "Unless you want my boys to put you down here and now, hand it over."

They were surrounded, and the likelihood of getting out from their position in that shed was too small to bet on. Tom loosed a shaky breath, holding the bag out and he thought he saw Ross's smirk grow just before everything went black, the butt of a gun slamming into the side of his head.

He came back around to the sound of voices. They were muddled at first, difficult to understand, but as he drifted closer to the surface he thought he heard someone saying his name. A sharp blow to the face jerked him fully back awake and he found himself staring at Sutton Ross. "Good morning, sunshine."

Tom swallowed hard, his throat dry. How long had he been out? He tried to look past the man bent down in his face, but he couldn't find the others. Ross tapped his cheek. "Right here," he instructed. "Your friends are safe for now. The ginger called you Tom. That right?" He waited a moment, but Tom held his gaze steady. "So, Tom, what is it that you want with that duffel bag? Reddington send you for it?"

"No."

Ross chuckled. "See, now I don't believe you there. I reached out to Ian and his cell is dead. I think Reddington's making a play for it and sent you."

Tom shifted, feeling the zip ties that secured his wrists to the chair he was sitting in. His ankles were loose though, and if worse came to worse he could always break a thumb and get out of the bindings. The problem was that he'd need a distraction for that and he wasn't sure he was going to get it.

"Nothing to say about that? Reddington does put the fear into people."

"I don't work for Reddington," Tom said firmly, wincing a little at the jolt of pain from where he'd been knocked in the head. "You owe Garvey, right? For getting you away from the feds in America? For setting you up here? That's why you're taking a risk for him by keeping something Reddington wants. To help Garvey protect the person he's trying to protect." He watched Ross' eyes narrow just a little and he knew he was on the right track. "I'm doing to the same thing. I'm protecting someone I care about from Reddington. Those bones, that test, that's going to protect my family from him. It'll protect Jennifer Reddington too."

Ross studied him for a long moment. "Who the hell are you?"

"That doesn't matter," Tom said, shaking his head just a little. "What matters is that, right now, we have the same goal."

The door opened behind Ross and he turned towards it, one of his employees - this one, surprisingly enough, wasn't armed, and was dressed more like a businessman than a guard employed for safety - making their way in. Ross stepped over, both speaking in hushed tones and Tom could only catch every few words. There was something about the FBI and he thought he heard Gina's name followed by something about their clients getting anxious. The man looked over to Tom and Ross followed his gaze, a frown tugging at his lips. "So he does have a name," Ross said easily. "Tom Keen, but he's supposed to be dead."

"I've been dead on paper a few times in my life," Tom acknowledged.

"Tell me, what's a dead man doing running with two FBI agents and the head of St Regis?"

Well that was interesting. Bud had been known in certain circles, but Tom wouldn't have thought that Gina would have put herself out there like that, especially not so quickly. Not easily enough for the likes of Sutton Ross to find. "I told you," Tom bit out, "I'm just trying to protect my family."

"And how are you doing that with this… collection of people?"

Any answer he might have given was cut short my a loud crash in the room next to them. Ross looked back, a gunshot causing him to reach for his own weapon. He motioned to the guard that appeared at the door and told him to make sure Tom stayed where he was.

Tom looked him up and down as he moved closer to verify that his wrists were secured by the zip ties. His mind was working on overdrive to take in every useful piece of information. He wore light body armour, carried an assault rifle rather than a handgun, and he looked like he would much rather be with his boss rather than babysitting the man tied to a chair. Another shout sounded from the hall, tugging at the man's attention, and Tom shifted his weight forward.

He was on his feet in an instant, using the chair as a weapon as he swung it around, knocking the long gun off to the side even as a shot went off. The guard was off balance and Tom took another swing, hearing the gun clatter to the floor before he leaned into it, shoving the other man hard into the wall. He hit hard, dazed, and Tom grimaced as the momentum sent him stumbling into the wall, the impact loosening one of the arms on the cheap chair. He half fell back into it as the four feet slammed to the floor. He blinked hard, wrists aching from where they were tied, but he didn't give the guard the chance to regain his bearings as he slammed his boot into his face, knocking him out cold.

Tom sat there for just half a moment, wiggling his arm hard against the damaged chair until he felt the thin metal give and at least one wrist was more or less free, even if it was still tied to the broken arm of the chair. He reached down with his new mobility and searched the guard's uniform until he found a switchblade. It took a moment, but Tom got it open and cut the zip ties, fully freeing himself from the chair.

Shouts sounded from the hall and Tom knelt to take the unconscious guard's sidearm. He checked it, found it fully loaded, and picked up the second gun before starting for the door.

He rounded carefully into the hallway, finding it clear of anyone that would still be shooting at him. Several guards were laid out along the way and he saw Gina free down the way. "Okay, maybe a little longer than I predicted?" he called out, raising a hand as Gina turned to aim at him. She shot him an exasperated look. "Where're Ressler and Aram?"

"They weren't held with me," she answered, lowering her weapon and Tom cursed as he started past her and down the hall.

He nearly ran into Sutton Ross head on as the man rounded out of a room and into the hall. He stopped, holding his hands up in surrender as shots sounded off downstairs.

"Should have taken the deal, " Gina said as she moved to make sure that he wasn't hiding any weapons on him. Tom kept his own attention on Ross, refusing to make the same mistake that his own captor had made with him.

"How about we honour that now?" Ross asked with a sly smile as she found a gun tucked away in the band of his slacks. She didn't bother to answer as Ressler and Aram appeared at the top of the stairs, Diaz with them, her expression carefully schooled and Gina made a beeline for her. The two women disappeared down the stairs without a spoken word between them.

"The bones," Tom demanded lowly, pulling Ross' attention back to him.

"The room just by the stairs. I can take you to them."

"Slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them."

"Sure," the older man answered and started to turn. There was something in his voice that caused Tom to pause and Ross stopped and shifted halfway through his turn, knocking the gun in Tom's hand up so that the bullet hit the ceiling rather than his face. He lashed out and Tom blocked the blow, swinging the gun around and the second shot went off.

Silence followed and his eyes met Ross'. There was a slow recognition there that the desperate move hadn't panned out quite like the other man had hoped and his knees folded under him so that he dropped to Tom's feet. Tom stood there for a long moment, his vision blurring a little as he stared, and suddenly he felt very drained. This was supposed to be a quick in and out and it had turned into a bloodbath far too quickly.

"Tom?" Aram called out and he looked up, seeing both of the federal agents hanging halfway between the top of the stairs and where Tom stood over the bleeding Sutton Ross.

"Yeah," he huffed, watching the light slowly fading from the man's eyes. "I'm good. Bones are in the room by the stairs."

Ressler ducked into the room and Tom blinked hard, trying to bring himself back around and out of the sudden haze he'd plunged into. He heard the sound of Gina making her way back up the stairs from the other end of the hallway and she rounded the landing, her expression dark. "You took care of Ross. Good. He killed Estevez."

He felt his shoulders slouch a little more at that. "I liked him."

Gina made a small sound of acknowledgement as she moved past Aram, shooting him a brief look as she did. "He was good. He learned from one of the best."

Tom couldn't muster a smile at that and as she approached, stopping just next to him to examine the dead man. After a moment she leaned into him, her shoulder hitting his, and it was an old gesture he hadn't seen from her since they were kids. Somehow, though, it was almost comforting. "Got what we need?"

"Take a look and make sure it's not a decoy," Ressler called as he exited the room, bag in hand, and Tom ghosted towards him. He was already starting to ache and that plane ride home was going to be hellish. "You okay?"

He didn't bother to look at Ressler, aiming for the bag. "I will be," he said honestly and nodded. "Bones and test. We're good."

"I, uh…. what do we do about…. this?" Aram asked hesitantly, motioning to the dead guards and their dead boss. There was likely more downstairs.

"We'll handle it," Gina promised. "Go home to the wife and kid, family man. Just know if you forget to pay me the rest of what you owe I'll find where you live."

"I don't doubt it for a second," Tom chuckled, reaching into his pocket and surprised to find that they hadn't taken his phone from him. Well, it wasn't like they had thought he was calling anyone tied to a chair. Once he finished the transfer he held it up, showing her. "Thank you."

"It's what you paid me for," his former partner grumbled.

"Take care of yourself." His smile was tired but real. There was no use pushing it. Neither of them had ever bothered with goodbyes. He motioned and he saw Ressler risked one more glance back over everything before moving with him, Aram right behind them. They needed to get back to the airport and get home. Liz could only hold Reddington at bay for so long.

"Jacob." He stopped, turning just a little and Gina wore an expression he couldn't quite place. It was strange, and he found himself wondering just how taking on St Regis had affected her. "Don't let him get you killed."

He flashed a grin at that. "You're the one that said I'd survive a nuclear holocaust, remember?" And with that he started down the stairs.

Liz had known the ruse wouldn't last forever, but as the hours without word from Tom or the others ticked on she felt the weight of urgency pressing down on her. It was in the way that Reddington's clever eyes flickered from one person to the next, looking for a sign of weakness or truth that he knew was hidden there, even if he didn't know what that truth was. Or in the way that Katarina Rostova became less and less interested in getting to know her daughter and had finally left the conversation entirely when she saw a skip in the feeds of the interrogation. It wasn't Dumont's fault. The man had already worked his magic longer than Liz really had expected.

They hadn't said anything right away. Instead Solomon had slunk around and overheard the end of a phone call that Reddington had made to try to track down the jet that Tom had taken and find out where he had gone. If he had that information yet or not, Liz wasn't sure, but it was time to face this. She pulled in a deep breath and told Dumont as she passed that it was up.

Reddington returned to find her staring at him and she thought he knew by his tone. "Clever."

"What is?" Liz asked, her face a blank mask of indifference to Reddington's odd mix of disappointment and pride that he wore.

He motioned over to the computers and to where Solomon and Nez were watching the conversation carefully like they were waiting for any chance to jump in. Reddington shook his head. "You and Tom are…. Stubborn. I'd hoped that I had made the consequences of crossing me on this clear."

"Crystal clear," Liz said tightly.

"Then why would you risk your husband's life, Masha?" Katarina asked from behind her and Liz felt her temper flare.

"It's Elizabeth, and I'm not risking his life. Reddington is if he goes through with his threat. You are if you back him on it."

"There's a great deal I'll do for you, Elizabeth, but giving here when we're so close isn't one of those things."

"You will," she promised, her head tilted up just a little. "I'm not losing him again."

"No," Reddington answered, a short and mirthless laugh riding out on a breath, "but he won't be able to help you undermine me either. The last call I made was to Whitehall. I don't make idle threats. If you'll excuse me, I think I've wasted enough time here." He stepped forward, but Nez blocked his pathway out. "Move, dear."

"I don't think so," Scottie said easily from her place. Liz had almost forgotten she was there with the way she'd all but faded back into the shadows. "Sit down, Red. You get to wait for this."

"Don't push me, Scottie."

"Sit. Down." The words left her with authority to rival his and Katarina glanced between the two, a curious expression flittering across her face as she did. "You lost your leverage when they called your bluff. That doesn't mean this is over."

"It is. I was willing to work with you and your husband and even Tom Keen to handle this situation, but not in these circumstances. If I can't trust-"

"Trust?" Liz bit out. "You want to talk about trust?"

A loud clang of the door to the warehouse drew everyone's attention, and half a moment later three very tired looking men made their way in. Ressler was in the lead and Aram came after him. Tom was moving a little slower, a little stiffer than the others. His hair was standing on end like he'd tried to catch as much sleep as he could on the plane and as he moved further into the lit room Liz could see blood on the collar of his jacket and the way the bruises had already begun to form along the side of his face. He looked whole, though, at least for the most part. She saw his gaze darken as it fixed on on Reddington and lifted the duffel bag in his hand up to make sure that the older man saw it. "Time to renegotiate."

Notes: My notes were pretty vague about how Tom and the others were going to go in and get the bones, so them getting caught was kind of a surprise lol. Everything was going along nicely until it wasn't and that's just how it goes for Tom, but he got out, got the bag, and I have such a clear picture in my head of that final scene with him walking in. One of Red's major flaws is that he underestimates them. In many ways, I think he still sees them as children.

Next Time: Liz lays down their deal's new terms to Red, Scottie reveals some truths to Tom, and the Keens move to hand Garvey into FBI custody.

Chapter Text

Tom Keen's words hung in the air and it was difficult to tell if anyone was actually breathing. The room was nearly silent and the only real sound that could be heard was the whirling of the computer systems. Tom's lips slowly twitched upward. Exhausted as he was, there was something satisfying about watching Raymond Reddington gape at him. The man who was often a good five steps in front of everyone else, who held secrets like precious treasures so that those around him were blindsided by events that they couldn't have possibly known about, hadn't predicted this. At least not in time to stop it from happening. It was funny, in a way. Reddington knew Tom's skill set, knew his abilities. Bud would have provided him with a full write up when he had been hired, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to him, but again and again Reddington had underestimated him. He assumed that Tom would eventually fall in line like everyone else and that a word from the so-called Concierge of Crime should be all it took to spook the operative into obedience. It worked with so many, and maybe once it would have worked with the operative that Red had hired so many years ago, but that had been before, and now he failed to take into account what made Tom different. It was the woman he had standing with him that had changed him.

That same woman moved towards him, her fingers lightly touching what was the early stages of a black eye. "You okay?"

Tom cringed a little at the touch against bruised skin, but then turned so that his lips brushed against her scarred palm. "Yeah."

There was movement behind them but before they could turn Tom heard Solomon tut dramatically. The former enforcer had his gun trained on Katarina who looked to be in the process of moving. A smile slowly tilted his lips until he looked a little like the Cheshire Cat. He was enjoying this in the moment. "Don't make me shoot a legend."

"So we're at a standstill," Katarina acknowledged. "You have the bones, Raymond still has Whitehall. That seems like a fair enough trade to reset the status quo, wouldn't you say?" She glanced over to Reddington who was quietly fuming.

"It would be," Scottie acknowledged, "if Halcyon's scientists didn't have the formula." She held up here phone. "Howard texted a few hours ago. Whitehall is obsolete when it comes to our son's health. I'd say that leaves you to listen to their demands and make your call how important your secrets are to you, Red."

Tom glanced over at his mother, trying to gauge if she was bluffing or not. She had hinted that she and Howard were working a quiet angle, but what that was he hadn't been sure. If she was trying to bluff her way through this, she was doing a damn good job.

Reddington loosed a frustrated sound. "Then it seems I have little choice in the matter. Tom?"

The younger man shook his head. "No, not me." He squared his shoulders and met Reddington's eyes, speaking slowly and deliberately. "After everything that's happened, you're still the one that hurts her the most. That means you get to answer to her."

Reddington's gaze shifted over and he looked at Liz for a long moment before motioning. Tom felt her fingers brush his as she moved past. "Get that somewhere safe?"

"Yep." He watched her go, following Reddington out of the alcove with all eyes on them. He wouldn't hurt her. He was almost certain he wouldn't hurt her, and for that ounce of doubt he had to put his faith in her. As much as he wanted to sit back and listen to the conversation that was about to be had, he didn't have a place there.

"We're meeting up with Samar and Cooper to fill them in. You guys going to be okay here?"

Ressler's voice pulled Tom out of his thoughts. "Yeah."

The ginger agent paused, his expression tightening briefly as he glanced around the room held together by silent threats. "I don't know if Cooper will think it's worth pushing or if we even could force you if we tried, but… Garvey belongs in a deep dark hole somewhere. Permanently."

"Yeah," Tom agreed darkly.

"And you guys don't have long term holding facilities. Not like we can get him to."

"You saying you're sticking around long enough to see this through?" Tom asked quietly and he didn't miss the grimace.

"I'm here through the end."

"Good. I'll talk it over with Liz and we'll let you guys know."

Ressler nodded and started for the door, leaving Tom standing in the middle of the small room. He motioned to Nez. "You know what to do?"

She grinned at him and reached out for the bag. "Do you have to ask?"

Tom looked back at Solomon. "Don't screw us on this."

"Not in my best interest to do so. You have things under control with Rostova and Reddington?"

"Yeah. Keep your phones on. If we decide we need to transfer Garvey to the Post Office, we'll need to move fast."

"Got it, boss," Nez answered with a smirk and he rolled his eyes, finally letting his attention wander back to where Katarina and Scottie were speaking in low, angry tones behind him.

He risked a glance to see his mother pull herself up to her full height, holding Katarina Rostova's gaze in the quiet and tense conversation they had been having. "And that's the difference, Kat. They're not children anymore, and if we want their help - and if the Cabal is making their move then we do need their help - it's time that we accept that. Tell her or keep Red's precious secret for him and risk everything, but you've lost your leverage over Howard and me." She turned and Tom blinked, caught eavesdropping. "Tom, I think it's time you and I finished the talk that Reddington interrupted."

It had all come down to this. The back and forth, the game of cat and mouse they had played for years now. He had dropped into her life, demanded to meet with her, and disrupted everything. The truths, the lies, the trust, and the would-be answers had come and gone and tangled over themselves over the years, leaving her jerked hard one way and then the other, never quite sure what to believe.

But she had found her footing now and she would hold steady, no matter the storms he unleashed on her. She knew who she was, even if she still had so many questions about who she had been. She would find the answers, she had no question about that, but here and now she had to protect her present from the man that stood waiting, an intentionally bored expression fixed on his face.

After a long moment he sighed, crossing is arms over his front like he'd been left waiting for hours, one hand grasping the opposite wrist. Reddington opened his mouth, ready to set the tone, but Liz's sharp gaze cut him off. "No. Just once, you're going to listen to me."

"I always listen to you, Elizabeth. That doesn't mean you will always enjoy the outcome."

She snorted. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"That tone. The condescending tone that you use with a small child when you're only halfway explaining something because you know it's over their heads. I'm not a child, Reddington. I'm not your child-"

"I never said you were."

"But you implied it."

"You made the assumption that you wanted to make."

"You've given me half truths since you walked into my life. About Tom, about my mother, about everything. Why should I have thought this was any different?"

She waited, the question hanging between them as she held his eyes in the lowly lit room. There weren't any windows here, but she was sure they were moving deep into the night at this point. She was exhausted in more ways than one, and while she couldn't force him to relinquish his precious secrets just because they held the physical evidence in their custody now, she could force him to listen to all the things that had been building and bubbling over the years.

Reddington finally loosed a breath. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

He scowled at her. "And there lies your greatest obstacle in all of this, Elizabeth. You believe the truth to be something that can be neatly delivered in a package and understood by everyone. It isn't. It's complicated and it's messy and it…. often leads to more heartache than it's worth."

"That's not your call to make."

"It is most certainly my call to make. This is not just your life, Lizzie. It's mine. Its Katarina's. Knowing what happened to your father won't bring him back. It won't help you in any way that you believe it will. You cannot put the truth away once-"

"You did," Liz said darkly. "You took my memories. If you meant to help me or just protect yourself, I don't know, but you took them."

"You were a child."

"And now I'm not, but you insist on treating me like one." She paused, waiting for that to sink in.

Reddington's shoulders sagged a little. "What are your terms, now that you have the bones and the test?"

She blinked, shifting gears and her voice was stern as she spoke. "We can't let the Cabal continue. We thought we ended it before and they just regrouped. You and Katarina have unique knowledge on it, so you're going to help us."

"That's it?" he asked, his voice a little surprised.

"I'm not finished. You will not threaten my husband or my family ever again. If Whitehall is secure, he can stay where he is until this is over. There's no reason to risk the wrong people snatching him again by transferring him if you have him tucked away." She stopped, squeezing her eyes closed for just a moment. "This, with the Cabal, we're your equals in it. If you toy with us, if you withhold information vital to taking them down, I will take the bones public."

"I believe you," Reddington said softly. "And after this is over?"

She felt a swell of anger and frustration. It was irrational, but part of her wanted him to fight her on this. She wanted a reason to scream and yell and have it out. She wanted to do more than calmly tell him how he'd toyed with her and how she couldn't trust him again because of it. He was calm though, collected, like they weren't talking about the fact that his very presence had upended her life in ways that she had never been given a choice in. As she spoke her vision blurred a little with angry tears. "When this is over I will hand you the bones and the rest and you will walk away. From my life, from my family's life. You will leave us alone."

Reddington didn't move, didn't speak for a long moment. Finally he drew in a deep breath and nodded sharply. "When this is over, you'll never have to see me again."

The truth was always much simpler in the abstract. Scottie had been willing to give it, even ready, until she stood with her son waiting expectantly for information she had promised. He had looked exhausted when he walked into the black site, but that had been put aside and that laser focus of his was fixed on her, steady and absolute and ready to finally hear the truth. She steadied herself, purposefully ignoring Katarina off to the side where she sat in ready judgement.

"Scottie?" Tom prompted softly and she tried for a smile, stepping forward and looking him in the eyes. She had told Katarina that she saw her baby boy in Agnes' eyes more than she did Tom's, but in that moment, balanced on the moment of truth, she wondered how she had ever missed it. He had been right in front of her and she had missed it.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his forehead, steadying herself for what might follow. "The Cabal approached your father not too long after Halcyon had gotten off the ground. They helped him connect with government officials and sign some of his first military contracts. He was young, naive, and he didn't know what they were at first." She closed her eyes, thinking back. "It wasn't his fault, not really. They were the government. Pieces of it, not that they broadcasted what their true goal was outside of their inner circle. Your father's not a blind follower, though, and he started asking questions and pushing back. They sent in a handler to…. encourage him in the direction that they wanted him to go. To make him feel more comfortable."

Tom shifted his weight and even though she wasn't looking directly at him she could feel his dark eyes on her. "That's how you met. He was your mark."

"Yes," she admitted softly, her thoughts turning to a younger vision of Howard and herself. She had been young, but she had been dedicated. Driven. She had had nothing else to throw herself into so work had become everything. She had proven her loyalty to the Cabal time and again, so when the assignment had come up they had trusted her with it despite her age. She had given them every reason to believe that she was the perfect one for the job, and at first she had been. Susan Scott had known just what to say to put people at ease and bend them to her will, and she had eased in with Howard. He was intelligent and forward-thinking. She encouraged that and in the beginning she had given him someone that he would believe was completely on his side. Somewhere along the way, though, those long days that had turned into late nights and finally to some of the first moments when she had ever really felt a strong drive to let another person know her. It had taken her by surprise and she had found herself becoming what she had only meant to play at. If Howard had always hoped to put distance between her and her employer or if it had just come naturally as they grew closer, Scottie still didn't know. In the end it hadn't mattered. There was something contagious about his idealism in those days and it had drawn her in in a way that nothing else ever had. "He knew who I was from the beginning, but yes."

She could see his mind turning over the new information and he must have been considering his own past with Elizabeth. He'd told her a little about it during his recovery period and Scottie had seen the echoes of her own younger days in the way he described the painful journey to understanding that he did - despite his own very limited experience with it - love the woman he'd been spent to spy on. It wasn't easy for people like them. Most that tried for it never made it far, but for those lucky few that took the risk, it was worth all the world. Scottie and Howard, after a time, had decided it was worth the risk. They had been ready to walk away and burn every bridge no matter the cost right up until the point that Scottie had found out that she was pregnant.

A baby had changed everything. A baby could be used as leverage. She watched Tom's careful expression as she told him about the way she and Howard had sat late into the night, desperately searching for the right answer. In the end they had decided to stay and to play the game as long as they needed to in order to build the power to make sure that when they broke they would be a force too big to reckon with. A force that could protect the family that they had chosen.

"You were three by the time we managed that," Scottie said softly. "There was unrest through the ranks. Members that had been loyal for years were questioning the leadership and Alan Fitch had just taken the director's position. He knew that Howard and I would break regardless. If he fought us on it, he also knew that we'd likely take half of his organization with us. So he let us walk and for the first time in years we were free." She closed her eyes and she heard Katarina shift off to the side. Funny, really, that Katarina had broken away anyway, her departure causing more of a rift than even the Hargraves'. "A few months after we left Fitch sent someone to Howard and asked for a favour. He turned them down flat. I didn't hear about the exchange until after and I was…. livid. He should have known what they were capable of. They needed to be handled with more care than he wanted to give them. We fought, he stormed out to walk it off, and by the time he came back the next morning you were gone."

Tom leaned back against the wall behind him, the exhaustion working its way back into his expression. "They took me? But Richard Game... how did all of that-?"

"It was a power play. Fitch knew he'd misjudged and opened the entire organization up to being found out, so he used his last bit of leverage against Howard to… publicly accept the confession. Howard never did believe it, not personally, and you already know that he never gave up looking for you."

A small, tired smile stretched her son's lips. "Yeah, the man's pretty stubborn."

"Like someone else I know," she tried for a tease. Neither of them were smiling though and after a long moment she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "That's our connection to the Cabal, your father's and mine. We knew Katarina, Raymond, and the man that you know as Red through it." She shot Katarina a pointed look, even if her words were still directed at Tom. "All of that is their secret to tell, but-"

"Thank you," Tom cut her off and she looked over to see him push himself upright off the wall and he reached out. She took his offered hand and felt her chest tighten as he spoke. "I know that it's not… easy or simple to put all of that in the open. I get that more than most."

"I know you do."

"And how hard it is," he acknowledged and he caught her eyes. "I mean it. Thank you, Mom."

Scottie felt an overwhelming sense of relief flood through her at the term of endearment and suddenly she had her arms around his neck. "I love you, Tom. Your father and I would do anything for you. You know that?"

"I'm starting to catch on," he answered softly.

"Raymond."

Both mother and son parted at Katarina's surprised greeting and the man that had gone by Raymond Reddington for years now strode through the room. "We have work to do, Scottie. I suppose I'm no longer a prisoner in your little hellhole now that your son has his leverage?"

Scottie looked past him to see Liz standing at the entrance to the alcove and her daughter-in-law offered a stiff nod. "Stay in touch," Scottie warned and her husband's old friend brushed past her without another word.

Liz barely gave her mother a second glance as she moved into the alcove, but instead she made a beeline for Tom and Scottie who was still standing with him. Tom instantly pulled his wife into a hug, wrapping her up in his arms and folding over her as she sank in against him, her chin against his shoulder. There was a long moment of silence between them that no one dared the break. Finally she pulled back. "We have to figure out what we're doing with Garvey."

"Your partner wants us to hand him over to the FBI."

She nodded and asked carefully, "What do you want?"

"I want the guy to never see the light of day again," Tom answered quietly. "Doesn't matter to me what kind of hole he's dropped into as long as it's permanent." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I know you, babe. You're a good agent. Say the word and we'll take him in."

"It's the right thing to do," she said tightly.

"Get things set on your end and I'll get a transport team to take him wherever your team wants him," Scottie offered and the Keens looked over at her like they'd forgotten she was there. Maybe they had.

"If we're giving him over, Liz and I should be the ones to take him," Tom said firmly and his mother cringed.

"Tom, you're exhausted and-"

"And I'll sleep when he's locked up. Ressler was right. This has been a good place to hold him, but it's not permanent. If the Cabal were to find out we were keeping him here we couldn't defend it long and we'd lose good people in the process. Let's get him transferred and then first thing in the morning we can regroup and see where we stand."

Scottie finally nodded. "Alright. Let's get this moving."

"You sure you're going to be good for this?" Liz asked, her voice pulling Tom's attention from where he was rechecking the clip on his sidearm for the third time in five minutes. The waiting was making him antsy.

"Yeah, I'm good." He saw the skeptical look she threw his way. "You want to drive?"

His wife finally cracked a small smile. "Probably smart."

Tom holstered his gun. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How're you doing after your talk with Reddington?"

Liz cringed a little at the name. "I told him I was done. Once this is over, once the Cabal is handled, I'm cutting ties."

"How'd he take it?"

"He said I'd never have to see him again."

"Did you believe him?"

She shrugged a little. "We'll see. I'm not backing down this time. How'd your chat go?"

Tom pushed a breath through his nose in what was supposed to be an amused sound that fell flat. "Oh, you know, my mom was my dad's handler in the Cabal and the Cabal were the ones that kidnapped me as a kid. Just another day."

His wife blinked at him. "They've known who kidnapped you this whole time?"

The door to the space they were using as a garage opened and several armed Halcyon guards walked in, Ian Garvey between them. Tom leaned close to Liz. "Yep. Also, just so you can't say I didn't tell you, I saw Gina in Costa Rica." He straightened. "I've got shotgun. Which one of you lucky bastards gets to sit in the back with him?"

"That'd be me, sir," the man with a firm grip on Garvey stated. "Becker, sir."

"Feel free to punch him in the face if he gives you any trouble," Tom said with a cheeky grin.

He slipped around to the passenger door and climbed into the suburban. Liz was already sliding into the driver's seat and she shot him a look. "Don't think we won't talk about that later."

"I know we will," Tom chuckled.

Becker shoved Garvey in behind him, cuffing him to the door before circling the vehicle to get in behind Liz. "Are you sure on just one vehicle, sir?"

"It'll draw less attention that way. You're not going to be any trouble, right Garvey?"

"You plannin' on trying to break my nose again if I am?"

"Did I not break it the first time? Then yeah. I think it deserves another go."

"Where're you taking me?"

"Some place that you're not going to just walk out of before your trial," Liz answered, the SUV roaring to life and she pulled it out of the space. Dumont chimed in over their comms, reading out traffic and the route for the earliest hours of the morning.

"Are you going to keep your word about Jennifer?"

Tom glanced back through the space between the door and the front seat. "Yeah. I'm not going to let anything happen to her."

Garvey huffed, not sounding entirely convinced, but he didn't say anything further. Tom turned back around in his seat, shifting stiffly in it. He needed a hot shower. A hot shower, some food, and a good night's sleep. They'd gotten the bones and were about to deliver Garvey into the Task Force's custody, so maybe a little rest wasn't such a far fetched dream afterall.

"What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Tom asked Dumont tiredly.

"Something on the screens…. The traffic cams couldn't catch it well. Hang on."

Tom pulled in a breath to tell him it was likely just a glitch in the camera, but as he turned he saw what looked like a truck running a red light and barreling straight towards them. Somewhere in the back of his mind it registered with him that the truck didn't have their headlights on and as it t-boned their SUV hard in the driver's side, he knew he'd counted their win too soon.

Notes: Every once and a while I have a chapter where All The Things happen and this was one of them. Liz confronting Red, Scottie revealing the truth to Tom, and then the attack at the end. I feel like Scottie and Howard's past has been a longtime coming, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter especially. I've known for a long while which direction I wanted to go with the Hargraves in this, but to finally get there is exciting. I wasn't thrilled with the first draft of that scene, but once I did my rewrites I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out.

And Tom calling Scottie Mom for the first time makes me absurdly happy too XD

Someone asked if Howard would be back, and yes. He'll be back and rejoining fairly soon. Can't put those two on even ground and then just keep them apart forever ;)

Next Time: Reddington gets a reality check, Tom and Liz deal with the aftermath of the attack against them, and Scottie gets a surprise visitor.

Chapter Text

He came around slowly, a strange hissing sound filling his ears. He couldn't place it at first, no matter how hard he tried. He'd slept in more strange beds, in more strange places recently that it really could be anything, but as Tom forced his eyes open he saw that he wasn't waking up from a night's sleep. He was strapped into the passenger's seat of a Halcyon SUV, the seat belt pulled tight against his chest so that it was starting to hurt. The vehicle was bent and broken around him, the hissing coming from the front end of it that had been smashed into a light pole. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, and as he wiped at his eyes he found the back of his hand slick with blood. That wasn't a good sign, especially when he was having trouble piecing together what had happened. He had gotten back from Costa Rica with Raymond Reddington's bones and DNA test stored in the duffel bag. Was he transporting those? No. He'd given those over to Nez and Solomon to store away in a Halcyon vault. He and Liz had then made arrangements with the Task Force to transfer Garvey to…. There it was. He and Liz had been transporting Garvey and a truck had slammed into them.

Liz.

Tom turned, regretting the sudden action almost immediately, but his own aches and pains were pushed aside when he saw his wife leaned forward in her seat, slack against the belt. The airbags had begun to deflate, but she was still out against it, blood dark against her hair and he reached over. "Liz? Lizzie. Babe?"

She groaned as his fingers ghosted across her shoulder and fumbled for her face. The small sound allowed some of the terror to subside inside of him and he swallowed hard. He had to figure out where they stood.

A sound from the backseat drew his attention and he looked around - every muscle in his body protesting the movement - as Ian Garvey slammed hard against the door behind him, forcing it open and stumbling out onto the street. A quick glance to the other side showed that the Halcyon operative with them was still unconscious or worse with his head hanging at a funny angle like it was. They were going to lose Garvey. They couldn't lose him. He reached down for the seatbelt and struggled with it for half a moment before it finally clicked.

"Tom?"

Dark blue eyes flickered over to find Liz looking at him, her gaze a little unfocused. "Stay down," he instructed as he shoved the door open and was surprised when he managed to stay upright on his feet when they hit the pavement.

Garvey was just making it around the back of the SUV as Tom reached for his gun, fingers stiff and uncooperative as he pulled it from its holster and aimed. The shot went wide, pinging off of the building beyond the escaping Cabal member. He started forward, jaw clenched and fingers wrapped tightly around his gun. He started around the back of the vehicle and had to pull back immediately as shots were fired, one hitting far too close for comfort.

Squealing tires and shouts came from beyond his line of vision and Tom risked another attempt around the back, this time find it open. He made it around just in time to see Garvey dive into the back of another vehicle not too different from theirs and they sped away.

Tom shouted, firing off a couple of rounds at the retreating vehicle, and he took a wrong step that sent his knee buckling and him down to the street at his feet. Sirens were already wailing in the distance. Dumont must have called them, but he couldn't hear him through the comm anymore. He must have lost it in the crash.

He forced himself up to his feet again, taking stock and forcing his rattled brain out of the instinctive fight or flight reflex. Liz still hadn't moved and he vaguely remembered telling her to stay down as he leapt out and after Garvey. Now that he was more with it he knew how absurd the request would have been any other time, but she still hadn't followed him out.

His knee twinged and his head was throbbing as Tom made his way over to the door. Liz sat in the front seat, still looking dazed, but her eyes were open and she reached over to shove the back door open when she realized he was standing there. "Garvey?" she asked through a grimace.

Tom shook his head. "He got away. Babe-"

"It's okay," she managed, reaching out for him and he took her hand. "We'll get him."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. How's Becker? I haven't heard him move."

Tom risked a glance to the back seat as an ambulance pulled up. "Doesn't look good," he said quietly and holstered his weapon as the police cars came in behind the other emergency vehicle.

"Tom Keen?" The officer called and Tom offered a wave of acknowledgement as he stepped back to give Liz room to step out.

He was already moving towards the officer when he heard a soft, pained noise behind him and turned just in time to see Liz pitch forward to the street.

He and Dembe had been on their way to the airport when Katarina called and Reddington had instantly altered his plans. Elizabeth had been in an accident - no, that wasn't it at all. Elizabeth had been attacked - and rushed to Bethesda. Katarina had little information beyond that and the fact that Tom was with her and that Ian Garvey had gotten away.

Reddington barely slowed as he rushed through the automatic doors and into the lobby, Dembe on his heels. He spotted several familiar faces and he tilted his head just a little as he passed by a security camera. "How is she?" he demanded, Harold Cooper the closest to him and halfway to standing already.

Cooper glanced back and Reddington followed his gaze to see Tom approaching. "She's in the back now," Elizabeth's husband cut in. "Still waiting." He offered the briefest of nods towards Harold and the older man turned to give them as much privacy as a waiting room could afford.

Reddington looked Tom over. His white henley had blood on the collar and shoulder and the cut over his eyebrow had been pulled together by a butterfly bandage. If he hadn't been willing to sit through stitches yet or the doctors had decided he didn't need them was anyone's best guess, but he looked mostly whole. Unlike Elizabeth apparently. "What happened?"

Tom looked ready to fight him on the question, but swallowed whatever snark he had planned to deal out in the last moment, his breath escaping in the form of a sigh and he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. "The transfer went sideways. We were halfway between the black site and the Post Office when we got t-boned by a truck. No lights, killed the Halcyon operative we had with us instantly."

"The Cabal was retrieving their asset," Reddington acknowledged.

"That's what it looked like. They made sure to hit on the opposite side than he was sitting on."

Elizabeth had been on the side of impact then. "And Garvey is gone?"

"In the wind." Tom's shoulders slumped a little and Reddington couldn't help but see how worn he looked. His gaze swept out over the waiting room before zeroing in on Red. "This has to stop. At best she's walking away from this with cracked ribs and a concussion, but she could have been killed. If you give a damn about her at all, this needs to end. Help me make sure she gets out of this alive."

His voice was a little desperate, almost distracting from the lie he'd told about knowing nothing about her condition. Reddington let it slide. It didn't matter. "Yes," he said after a long moment, a plan already forming. "I'll need to look into a few things, but if the Cabal has him, I may have an option we can look into."

"What?"

"When I know more, I'll tell you."

The doors leading into the back and a Doctor emerged. "Mr Keen? Your wife is asking for you."

Tom straightened at that and Reddington cleared his throat. "I need to move quickly if we're going to handle this. I'd like to see her first."

There was a beat of silence from the dark haired man and Red thought he would deny the request. Finally his lips twitched downward and he nodded. "If she's willing to talk to you."

Reddington turned, not willing to give him a chance to change his mind. The doctor stopped him though. "I'm sorry, but family only."

"He's good," Tom called over and the doctor gave a small nod of acknowledgement. He motioned for Red to follow him.

"I have a son-in-law I don't see eye to eye with too," the doctor said as he walked him through the back halls. "Makes it difficult with my daughter, but what are you gonna do when she loves him? Elizabeth is in the second room there. Call if you need anything."

Red huffed a thank you without correcting the assumption as he aimed for the indicated room. He needed to move quickly if he was going to begin to set the board, and even then he would need to make accommodations for all the parties that demanded the right to know his plans. This was how things went wrong, but as long as they held his secret hostage there was little he could do about it.

He rounded into the room, removing his hat as he did, and found Elizabeth's eyes in him immediately. Her expression fell. "Where's Tom?"

"Your husband allowed me a few moments before I need to leave." He paused, looking her over. She was bruised and bandaged and, as much as he hated to admit it, Tom was right. This could have been much worse. Next time it might be. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to help you end this, Elizabeth. Not because you're forcing my hand and not because…" He grimaced a little, forcing the words out. "Not because I expect anything in return. Your safety is my concern."

"Sure," she answered tightly.

Red's fingers tightened a little around the brim of his hat in his hands, but didn't dare move closer. "I understand that you're upset and that you feel you have a right to be angry in all of this."

"I do have a right to be angry in all of this," Elizabeth snapped.

"Perhaps," he conceded softly.

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows. "I'm tired, Reddington. I didn't sleep all night and was attacked by the Cabal - again - and we lost Garvey. If all you're here for is to try to make me feel guilty for searching for answers about my own life or talk me out of it, just go. I asked for Tom, not you."

The words stung more than he would have liked to admit and Reddington pulled in a deep, steadying breath. "Once this is over and you are safe, before I leave, I'll tell you." He saw her bright blue eyes open again, the question there even if it hadn't actually been spoken. "I'll give you the answers you're looking for about your father and everything that happened."

She was staring at him now. "Everything?"

"Yeah," he managed, his voice struggling even with that.

The young woman that he'd loved so dearly for so many years nodded slowly. "I'm holding you to that."

Reddington cleared his throat, fitting his fedora back on his head. "You will get through this, Elizabeth. You, your family…. You will be safe." With that he turned. He needed to start putting the pieces in place if he hoped to make good on his promise.

Liz found herself staring at the door long after Reddington had walked out, the promise lingering behind him. Her first instinct was to look for the loophole that he would inevitably take to avoid discussing her past and his part in it, but there was something about the way that he had looked at her - the way that he had looked at her for so long now - that made her want to believe him. She didn't dare risk it though. If she did and he disappointed her again, it would hurt all the worse.

A knock on the door drew her attention and she felt at least a little of the stress ebb away at the sight of her husband's smiling face. "Hey you," he greeted. "How're you feeling?"

"Would have been better if Reddington's wasn't the first face I saw," she teased and his grin turned a little sheepish.

"Give to get."

"You sound like your mom."

"Bound to happen sometime," he acknowledged with a shrug. "You still want me in here?"

"Definitely." She watched as he moved closer and she noticed the slight limp he had as he walked. Liz reached a hand out to him and he took it readily. "You get cleared by the doctor?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Mild concussion, sprained knee."

"Didn't they give you something to take the weight off of it?"

"They tried."

Liz rolled her eyes at that and tugged on him until he took a seat on the bed with her. "You're the worst patient ever."

"Next to you."

"At least I'm still in bed."

He grinned and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips. She caught him before he could pull away, though, and he didn't argue when she pull him in deeper. Her fingers latched onto his shirt and she felt his free hand move to the side of her face, long fingers in her hair. "I'm glad you're okay," she murmured against him.

"Are you?" he asked quietly.

"I think so. Still waiting on some of the tests, but I think I'm sore more than anything else right now."

He made a soft sound of acknowledgement and suddenly she found him stretching out in the hospital bed with her, long legs kicking up onto the mattress and she laughed as he relaxed a little against her, careful of the wires and IV that were connected. "Comfortable?"

"With you, always."

"Charmer." She felt him chuckle and leaned in.

"What do you think Reddington is planning?" he asked after a long moment and Liz loosed a breath.

"About the only thing I bet on for sure with that man is that we'll be lucky if he gives us half the plan."

"True."

She reached across for his hand, wincing as the movement pulled in her battered ribs. He took it and she ran her thumb over his bruised knuckles. "So, Gina?"

Tom stiffened a little and Liz almost smirked. Instead she continued the circular motions with her thumb and he eased after a moment and cleared his throat awkwardly. "We had to pull the job off fast and I knew a couple of locals in Costa Rica so I reached out."

"Knew them how?"

"Through St Regis."

"And Gina just happened to catch wind?"

He shrugged a little. "It's not a huge organization. Not small, but not so big that the head of it wouldn't have heard. I didn't expect her to show up personally though."

Liz frowned a little. "I didn't know Gina took the Major's place."

"That was always the plan when he finally kicked it. Well, half of it."

"The other half being that he didn't expect her to be the one to kill him?"

Her husband huffed a mirthless sort of laugh. "That too. No, I was supposed to be the other half. I'd run the school, she'd run the operations side, and we'd fill in where the other needed it."

Liz sat silently for a moment, realization settling in heavy against her. Tom hadn't just been trained by the Major, he'd been the heir apparent within the organization. She had known that their relationship had been complicated, but she'd always understood it to be more one-sided than the new information led her to believe. He'd been young, impressionable, and McCready had snatched him up and given him what most any orphaned young child would want: a would-be father figure. Maybe the respect and even the affection went both ways more than she had ever realized. If it did, that left her with even more animosity than she usually felt when she thought of the man that had forced her husband on his knees in their home to kill him down for leaving the organization.

"Babe?"

"Hmm?" she responded automatically, startled out of the thoughts.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

"Are you pissed?"

That pulled a smile from her and she found him craning his head back to look at her from where he'd sunk down against her pillows. She settled in, leaning her head against the top of his. "No, just tired."

"Could be because it's five in the morning and we haven't slept yet."

"Could be. Are you staying?"

"Yeah," he breathed and he sounded like he was halfway to dozing already. Liz felt her own exhaustion tugging on her and loosed a breath. They'd be back with test results and to either let her leave or move her to another room soon enough, but until then, for just a little while, they could feel safe.

There had come a point where it didn't make sense to have everyone lingering in the waiting room, and even once they had decided to move Liz to another room to wait for the final test results, it hadn't been big enough to house everyone that was worried over her. Tom stayed and no one dared fight him on it. Red was off chasing down some lead or another, and the Task Force and dispersed to either work or sleep so that they could focus the next day. Nez and Solomon had confirmed that the bones were secure and that had left Scottie to sit on the small couch in her daughter-in-law's room, quietly confirming the latest information to the sleeping woman's mother via text. For now, things were quiet. They wouldn't be for long, but at least they were united. Scottie hated that it had taken yet another close call to bring them to that point, but at least Tom and Liz had come out mostly whole from it.

She glanced over, a soft smile playing at her lips at the site of her son curled up on the edge of the hospital bed with his wife. They'd run him off when they transferred her, but she'd nearly dragged him back to it once she had gotten settled, both carefully wrapped around each other and almost instantly asleep. It was a calm in the middle of the storm that they desperately needed.

A soft knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts and she looked over to see the person she had expected. "Howard," she laughed, desperately trying to keep her voice down and not wake the two Keens in the bed just yet. Scottie stood, shuffling over to the door on bare feet, and Agnes peeked around the doorframe, grinning like a sneaky little devil. "And you. What are you two doing here?"

Howard was leaning heavily on a cane and looked worn down, but still pleased to see her. "Gramble said I needed to walk some on it."

"She probably didn't mean fly down to DC," Scottie grumbled with a smile.

Her husband winked at her. "I wasn't doing anyone any good in New York and someone -" Agnes giggled as he ruffled her dark hair with his free hand- "was missing her mom and dad. How're they doing?"

Scottie motioned out to the hallway and Agnes shot her a pouty look but followed anyway. She grabbed one of the wheelchairs and Howard took a reluctant seat, their granddaughter piling onto his good leg and leaning back against him like she was right at home. "They're both a little bruised and Liz has some cracked ribs. They're keeping her observation for the concussion after her brain injury last year."

"I'd bet so," Howard mused. "They're alright though?"

"They will be."

"I spoke to Nez. She has everything locked down. How's Red taking it?"

Scottie pursed her lips. "He seemed genuinely concerned when Elizabeth was injured."

"That's not surprising."

"I never understood his fascination with her."

Howard shook his head. "He cares about her. She doesn't have to be his blood for him to care."

"That doesn't give him a right."

He pushed a sharp breath out his nose. "Hell, Scottie, what right do any of us have in this?"

Agnes craned back. "Not 'sposed to say that, Grandpa."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he managed and those clever eyes turned back to Scottie. "You know what I mean, though. Kat, you, me… even Raymond wasn't a stellar parent. Might have been worse if he kept going in the direction he was aimed in. None of us have a right to enjoy this," he bounced Agnes and she giggled, "but that doesn't mean we don't fight for it."

Scottie heaved a sigh. "Maybe."

All of a sudden Agnes squirmed and Scottie heard her husband grunt in pain as the child launched off his knee and darted into the room. "Mama! Daddy!"

The Hargraves both looked into the room to see what the little girl had seen and found both Tom and Liz sitting up groggily in the bed and beaming at the sight of their daughter. Agnes scaled her way up into the bed as her father grinned and reminded her to be gentle. He pulled her in, holding on tightly as Liz grimaced her way to lean in, kissing dark brown hair and saying something quietly that made Agnes giggle.

Howard's touch startled Scottie as his fingers ghosted against her hand and she looked back. "They took him because of us, because of choices we made. We're only here now because he decided to let us stay. Red may not be her blood, but if Liz chooses to let him stay at the end of all of this, you've gotta be ready for that."

His voice was so serious that it sent a chill through her and she shook her head. "I know you've always been fond of him, but after what he did to our son, how can you forgive him?"

"I haven't, but that doesn't have any bearing on what our son's wife chooses."

"This has never been simple," she murmured.

"Not once."

"Howard, what the hell are you doing here?" Tom called from the room.

"Daddy!" Agnes chided and her father laughed, the sound helping to ease the knot that had begun to form in Scottie's chest.

"Oh, just following the doctor's instructions," Howard chuckled as he stood slowly, grabbing for him cane. "And delivering some meds you're probably running low on."

"Good timing," Tom agreed and let out an oof as his daughter flopped back against him. It was chaotic and beautiful, but the peace hadn't lifted. Somehow, with the addition of Howard and Agnes, it felt more complete. Whatever happened with Red would happen, and as long as they had Tom and his beautiful family in their lives, Scottie thought she could face it.

Notes: I don't know what it is, but I love the idea of Tom or Liz joining the other on a hospital bed after something terrible and everyone just sort of taking a breather. I was going through clips this past week to see about doing an gif set for the scene as a sneak peek, but really we have precious few scenes where they're curled up together. By precious few I mean two, and one of them was a deleted scene. It makes me rather sad, but I suppose that's what fanfiction is for? All the Keen cuddles.

Does anyone want to start placing bets on if Red will make good on his promise or not?

Next Time: The Hargraves steal a little time for themselves, the Keens receive an early morning surprise, and Katarina tries to explain a few things.

Chapter Text

In the late nineties the Hargraves had purchased their DC offices that had provided them with the perfect set up to entertain politicians, military officials, and any number of useful contacts in the nation's capital. The space had been used for campaign dinners, negotiations, and meetings with high-end clients of all kinds. One of the perks of the particular building they had chosen was that it had once been used as a private residence and they had chosen to leave part of the building with only minor updates. They had rarely needed to use the bedrooms themselves, instead leaving them for guests that preferred not putting their names down at a hotel or that needed a bit more security, but every now and again they became useful on a more personal level. As Howard slowly crept towards wakefulness he found himself more appreciative of the decades' old purchase every second.

The last couple of days had been hectic, though that was hardly anything new on whole. Howard had been working with Dr Gramble from his hospital bed in Halcyon's medical wing for the final steps in setting up Tom's medication and weakening Red's hold over them when he had gotten the news that Garvey's transfer hadn't gone as planned. He had cut a deal with the stubborn doctor that he would take his son's medication to him and she would transfer down to DC to oversee any medical attention currently needed or any that might come up. With this group it seemed like no one was left fully healthy for very long.

Liz had been released from the hospital with strict instructions to go home and rest. Tom had gone with her to make sure she did, Agnes joining them at their apartment for the first time since she had left with Scottie. That had left he and Scottie to follow down a few leads over the course of the day, looking for any chatter about Garvey. Solomon and Nez had hit the pavement and by the time they had wrapped for the day Howard had nearly fallen into the bed, his leg aching and his fingers stiff against the heavy brace on his wrist.

Now, as he buried himself just a little deeper in the plush pillow Howard had to admit that he might have overdone it.

A sound and movement in the bed next to him drew his attention and he found himself relax just a little. It had been…. years, now that he thought about it, since he'd shared a bed with his wife. There had been the suspicions and the anger and the accusations that had driven them apart in the last few years. He had started to soften, if he'd admitted it to himself or not, to the idea that maybe she hadn't betrayed him, but the truth became evident the moment she came for him. He could still find all of his reasoning, still follow the trail of thought, but new evidence had been presented and he hadn't fought it. He didn't want to. They had been at odds too long now, and there were only so many people in their lives that they could truly trust. He wanted to trust her again and to be the one that she trusted in return. They had always been stronger together.

He watched her eyes drift slowly open and focus on him. She was beautiful. She'd always been beautiful, but for the first time in a long time he felt like he could get lost in the moment with her. Her lips curled at the corners. "Are you watching me sleep?" He hummed softly and her smile grew, inching closer carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he huffed and she shot him a skeptical look.

"Gramble said to take it easy."

"I am. I'm lounging in bed at-" he looked over to the clock- "six in the morning with my beautiful wife."

He wrapped his good arm around her and she was careful to avoid his injured leg even though he could feel her bare toes against his own under the sheets. A sigh escaped him, a memory catching hold. "Do you remember that trip we took to Tuscany in '83?"

"To meet with explosives expert there?"

His fingers toyed with her long hair. "That's the one."

His wife pulled chuckled. "I remember you convincing that cop that we were just two lost tourists on our honeymoon. I'd never seen you pull off a cover so flawlessly before."

Howard chuckled, the memory playing out across his mind. They were younger and more reckless, but it had been a turning point in their relationship. Funny how an impromptu cover had led to something real. "He wanted us gone more than he wanted to look through our luggage by the end of that."

"It was clever."

"It certainly seemed to win a few points with you," he murmured and he heard her smile turned a little mischievous and she propped herself up next to him and leaned in. Howard melted back against the pillows, her lips pressed against his and her hair falling around them. He reached up with his uninjured hand and pulled her in. Scottie shifted, her fingers teasing at the hem of his t-shirt, but something shifted wrong and he broke from the kiss, a pained sound escaping him.

Scottie pulled back immediately. "Did I hurt you?"

A rough chuckle left him. "Easy to do, apparently," he grumbled.

The worry eased from her expression. She leaned forward, the kiss more gentle this time, and she settled carefully next to him, one arm draped over his middle. "I've missed you."

"You haven't been here that long," he teased.

"You know what I mean."

He leaned in. "I do."

"Howard?"

Uh oh. He knew that tone. He let his eyes slip open slowly and found her darker gaze fixed on him. "Yes dear?" he asked hesitantly.

"You and I have been through a lot… maybe too much. We can't expect to just fall back like nothing happened, but-"

"Scottie." She stopped, staring at him, and he leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "We're about to fight a war, and I don't want anyone at my side for it but you."

She nodded slowly. "I feel the same."

"Then that's our first step. We'll figure out the rest when we get there."

"We've spent so long avoiding this," she said softly. "They deserve to live out from under it."

"They do," he agreed, reaching around with his good hand to strike her hair in a way that had always put her at ease. "We'll get them there." He felt her relax against him and his eyelids drifted closed. They would protect their son and his family, but for just a few moments, he wondered if maybe they had earned a little peace for themselves.

Tom woke with a start to find himself in his own bed. He wasn't quite sure where he had expected to be or what had startled him awake, just that a strange sense of surprise washed over him as his eyes popped open and came to rest on Liz sleeping next to him. It took just a moment for his sleep addled brain to work through the fog and piece together that they had come home the day before and, despite coordinating with his parents and Nez and Solomon from the apartment, he had gotten the best night's sleep he'd had in a while now. In the quiet that followed, he wasn't sure what had jarred him awake.

"What time is it?" Liz grumbled sleepily and Tom squinted at the clock. He wasn't even sure where his glasses had ended up the night before when he had finally tossed the days old contacts and given his eyes some relief.

"Not sure. Agnes isn't up, so early."

She groaned a little dramatically and turned over. "I hate cracked ribs."

"I've never met anyone who likes them," he teased. He sat up and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "You want breakfast?"

"Not pancakes."

"Really? I thought you loved them." He let out a pained oof at the elbow he got to the ribs and he saw her cringe at the moment. "I'll put some bacon and eggs on."

"I love you," she said by way of a thank you and he grinned.

"You too, babe. Get some more sleep and I'll let you know when it's ready."

He heard her mumble a sleepy okay and he rolled off the other side of the bed, bare feet hitting the cold wood floors and it felt good to have a little bit of a breather in the middle of all the danger and chaos. He found his glasses in the dresser and grabbed a sweatshirt that he tugged over his head as he made his way to the kitchen.

Tom slammed to a stop as he dragged the hoodie down to clear his vision to see Raymond Reddington sitting on his couch like he had planned to make himself at home. That must have been what had startled him awake. "Most people knock," he snapped in hushed tones so that he wouldn't wake his wife or daughter.

"So I hear. How is Elizabeth feeling?"

The younger man glanced back to their room and, when he didn't hear her stirring, nodded towards the kitchen. Reddington stood and followed him, lingering by the table as Tom started searching for what he needed. "Better. Doctors cleared her. She won't be in the field for a while, but she'll be okay."

Reddington hummed and nodded. "She won't like that."

"No." He set the frying pan on the burner and laid the bacon out on it, turning to face Reddington as it began to heat. "You're not here to check in."

"I'm not." He pulled in a breath and his head bobbled a little as he spoke. "I've been following leads the last couple of days. We need a path to the top, not just Laurel's replacement. I believe I've found one, but it's going to require some trust."

"How so?" Tom asked as he flipped the bacon strips.

"The Cabal has always been interested in not simply keeping Halcyon out of their way, but in… acquiring it, as it were."

"Yeah, I know the story. You want to use Halcyon as bait or something?" He waited for a nod of acknowledgement and flipped the strips again. "Even if you could make contact to try to broker that - and they hate you as much as they hate us - why would they trust the deal? They're never going to believe that Howard just changed his mind. He's fought too hard to keep his company out of their hands. Scottie too. No way they'll risk their security for that." He grabbed a plate and laid the bacon on it, pressing a paper towel against the pieces to soak up the excess grease and he cracked an egg over the pan to start in on that next.

"They wouldn't, no," Reddington agreed, "but perhaps Howard and Scottie's son - a young man whose family has been put in danger because of his parents' war - would be a bit more believable."

Tom paused mid-scramble to consider it. "Maybe," he said carefully.

"Howard's injured, Scottie is coming off of a scandal. It's not out of the realm of possibilities that they would step back."

"But that means Tom would have to publicly acknowledge that he's Christopher Hargrave."

Both men turned to see Liz standing where the hall turned into the kitchen. She did not look happy with the idea. Reddington cleared his throat. "Yes. Very publicly. Nothing shy of a press conference would convince them."

Tom dished the scrambled eggs out on three plates and glanced past Liz towards their daughter's room. "Any sign that Agnes is up?"

"Not yet."

He nodded and handed her a plate, sliding a second over to Reddington across the breakfast table, and he ignored the raised eyebrow he received before Reddington accepted it. "Even if we were all willing to do that, that still leaves the problem of setting it up. They hate you. They won't take the meeting."

"They will."

"How?" Reddington straightened and looked ready to fight for yet another damn secret. Tom rolled his eyes. "Are we past this or not? I'm not putting myself, my family, and the company my parents have fought for if you can't be straight with us." He shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth but refused to break eye contact with the man.

They stood there like that for a long moment before Reddington finally gave, shrugging a little as he spoke as if that was supposed to ease the meaning behind the words any. "I handled a delicate situation for Laurel a few years ago. I've had a seat at the table since."

"You what?" Liz growled, her voice much louder than any of them expected and every eye turned back towards Agnes' room. No one breathed for a good thirty seconds as they waited to see if they'd have to pause the conversation longer with a little girl wandering into the room, but the long moment of silence proved that they hadn't managed to wake her. Liz was the first to loose the breath, turning a vicious glare on Reddington. "You work for the organization that tried to have me killed? That you spent years trying to outmaneuver, that you-"

"I don't work for them, Elizabeth. I have a seat at the table. It allows me unique access when I wish to take advantage of it."

"Like Garvey's transfer?" Tom asked pointedly and Reddington blinked at him.

"I want him as badly as you do, Tom."

"I guarantee that you don't."

"Enough," Liz hissed. "You have an in, but it's not happening. You're asking Tom to paint a target on his back."

"It's only a matter of time until they discover who he is, Elizabeth. This way it's on our terms and can help us end this. It's a risk, but a calculated one."

Tom looked back to Liz who was borderline fuming again. "Hey," he coaxed, reaching for her hand. "Let's get everyone together a talk it over. It's a start."

She shot him a look like she thought he was crazy. "Tom…."

He pulled her hand up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "We'll make the decision together," he swore and finally she nodded.

"Daddy?" They all turned to see Agnes standing in the hall in her pink pajamas, rubbing hard at her eyes. "I want pancakes."

Tom felt a smile tug into place. "I think that's something we can manage, baby girl."

They looked like a beaten down, ragtag group by this point. Everywhere Liz looked she saw scrapes and bruises and bandages, starting with the face that stared back at her in the mirror that morning. Many of the darker bruises were hidden under her shirt, but she had a few that had started to show along her temple and down to her cheekbone where her face had collided with something in the wreck. Tom looked a little more awake after the previous day of rest and a good night's sleep, but he was still moving gingerly on his sprained knee and the bruises from the incident with Sutton Ross were showing along the side of his face. At least his father was willing to use the cane that Gramble had prescribed, though as far as Liz could tell Howard was pushing his injuries with that. He probably should have been using a wheelchair if he was out of bed at all. It looked like Tom came by his stubbornness naturally enough. Matias Solomon was still moving just a little slower from his own healing wounds too, but that hadn't stopped him from doing what he could to make sure he landed on her last nerve.

Reddington was whole enough. Somehow he always seemed to come out on top, though with the look Scottie was giving him his luck might have finally run out. He was speaking with Tom's parents off to the side and Scottie looked ready to murder him where he stood.

"This could work."

Liz looked over to see her mother standing there, her expression carefully blank and she felt her own lips twitch downward. "Did you know that he'd taken a seat with them?"

Katarina tilted her head, her gaze flickering very quickly to Reddington before returning to Liz. "No," she admitted after a long moment.

"And it doesn't bother you that he's joined up with the same Cabal that forced you into hiding? The one that set me up and tried to kill me? That he's sided with-"

"Elizabeth." Her mother's use of the name she preferred stopped her mid-demand and Liz waited. Katarina didn't continue immediately, but watched and studied and assessed. Finally she took a seat on the coffee table in front of the couch that Liz was seated on next to Tom so that she was on eye level. "I understand that, in this world we work in, there are times when we take extreme measures to protect the ones we love." Her gaze shifted past Liz to Tom. "Why did you take the job with Berlin?"

Liz felt her husband stiffen just a little at what felt like a very sudden change of topic. It took a moment, but his expression eased in a way that said he had found the connection even if Liz hadn't yet. "To protect Liz," he said softly and Katarina motioned for him to continue. "Reddington found out that we'd gotten…. close and he fired me. From what he's said he assumed I'd left because Bud told him I would - that I did - but I stayed. Berlin found me just after Liz and I got married, found out I worked for St Regis, and offered me the job. I took it."

"Why?" Katarina pressed.

He hated talking about it, Liz knew. They both did. It threatened to reopen old wounds every damn time. She reached over to take his hand and Tom's jaw clenched a little, fingers tightening around hers. "Because I knew what he was capable of. If I knew what he was up to, if I had access, I could make sure Liz didn't get caught in the crossfire." He closed his eyes and as he spoke, nearly echoing Reddington's words from early that morning, Liz understood the sour expression that had settled in. "It provided me with… access to information that I wouldn't have had otherwise."

Bright blue eyes focused again on Liz and the younger woman sighed. "But why? I know why Tom did it, but why Reddington. Who am I to him? He's not my father, so why?"

Katarina's expression softened and her voice was quieter than Liz had expected as she spoke, almost like she was telling her a secret. "No, he's not your biological father, but he's the reason you're here."

"I know that he thinks he's protecting me, but-"

"No." Katarina grimaced like she was fighting with herself on it. "He… Things were complicated. Your father was a mark. He was a job. I was married to another man and you were…. a complication that I didn't know how to account for."

Liz straightened a little, wincing as the involuntary motion pulled in her injuries. "He told me about that once," she said softly. "That you didn't want me."

"I didn't know," Katarina countered. "I couldn't have possibly known. He did though, and he convinced me to keep you." Her gaze caught Liz's and the younger woman felt the emotional pull that she had when she thought of her mother. It was deep and strong, a longing for a connection she barely remembered, and here she was. "I left because I believed it would protect you. I still believe you were safer with Sam. We do what we feel like we must for the children we love, even if they may never understand. Even if they may hate us for it. Sometimes they're ours, sometimes they simply should have been."

"Tom?" Scottie called tightly and Liz's husband pulled her hand up to his lips before he released it to stand.

Liz grabbed for him though. "We'll make this decision together," she reminded him.

"Yeah."

She turned back to her mother. "Thank you."

"For what?"

A very small smile pulled at Liz's lips as she stood. "Being honest," she answered and turned to Tom. He was waiting for her patiently and she pulled in a steadying breath, reaching for him. "I know you'd do anything to protect me, but that goes both ways."

"I know," he murmured. "I'm not leaving you, Liz. You're not losing me. Can you trust me on that?"

She closed her eyes, chest tightening with the emotions building and she leaned in. His arms went immediately and carefully around her, gentle and strong all at once. "I trust you," she promised. "If they go for and if you think it's the right move, I'll back you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He pulled back just a little and tilted her chin up. His kiss helped to ease her raw nerves and she tightened her hold in him. Together. That was the only way this was going to work.

Notes: It's a wonder that Red hasn't been shot with as much as he breaks into the Keens' home and  how often they're both armed.

We've moved into the final arc of this story and it makes me a little sad. There's still plenty to go and a follow up story after it, but I always get a little  bummed out towards the end of a long story. Lots of emotional investment on my end. I hope you guys haven enjoyed and are enjoying it as much as I am. :)

Next Time: Tom meets with the board at Halcyon.

Chapter Text

He had spent so long fading in and out of different roles over the years that this should have been a breeze, but as Tom stood staring at his reflection in the full length mirror in a room in a house that he still couldn't drag from the depths of his memory, he felt more like he was simply playing a part than he ever had on an undercover operation. He looked like himself, more or less. Maybe a little cleaner cut and dressed a little nicer than his more comfortable jeans and t-shirt. This must have been what Christopher Hargrave was supposed to look like, if he hadn't been taken. Tom winced a little at the idea. It was the thought of walking through those boardroom doors and finally calling himself by the name that he'd been born under that left him feeling off balance that late morning. He couldn't remember anything that he should and this wasn't something that he could roll with. It wasn't a cover that he could play with the details to manipulate them to fit what he needed. This was his life. A life that he couldn't remember, but it was the life that supposedly gave him the claim on the company they needed to make this work. And if he was going to protect his family, he had to make this work.

"When this is over, we're getting dressed up more often," Liz said, startling Tom out of his thoughts and drawing his attention to where she was leaning gingerly against the doorframe leading into the room they had claimed in Howard and Scottie's house.

He shrugged his coat over his shoulders and into place, trying to offer his wife a small smile as he struggled to push down the conflicting thoughts that warred inside of his mind. "It always makes me feel like I'm going undercover even if I'm not."

Her smile lit the room and she crossed the space between them, reaching to adjust his collar. "That might be fun. A fancy dinner, dancing, a little mystery. Very James Bond style." She looked up at him and mischief danced in her eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally cracking a smile of his own that felt real. "I think I could get behind that."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, still smiling. "Like when we were first dating with those clandestine meetings at Wing Yee's…." She tipped up on her toes at the same time she pulled him down into the kiss and Tom felt his increasingly tattered nerves ease a little. If she knew that he was dreading this meeting or she had just chosen the perfect moment to tease and flirt, he wasn't sure. Whichever one it was it was still working. All he wanted in that second was to sink into her arms and remember exactly who he was. That was the man that he'd chosen to be. She helped ground him.

They broke after a long moment and he followed after her, not quite ready for it to end. Her laugh was soft and she let her hands drop down to his. The smile sank downward just a little and he tilted his head in question. "Your hands are shaking," she murmured.

"They do that these days," he huffed. He pulled one free and frowned as he saw the way it trembled a little more than it had been. That wasn't good. It certainly wouldn't instill a lot of confidence in the board that he was a solid option to fill in for an injured Howard.

"Is it the new meds?"

"Maybe. This is my second day on them."

Liz's gaze fell to his wrist. "Your watch hasn't been sounding off like it did that night at home."

"It got damaged in Costa Rica."

His wife blinked at him. "Why haven't you had Dumont fix it? If the medication isn't-"

"Babe, it's fine. Gramble knows she's not getting the readouts. I have that appointment with her this afternoon, remember? She'll run some blood work and see if anything needs to be adjusted. I just need to get through this meet first. If I'm lucky, maybe you'll even still be there."

Liz didn't look convinced. He offered her a lopsided smile and pulled the hand she was still holding up so that he could kiss her knuckles. "Are you sure you don't want me there today? Gramble can wait. I'm feeling better."

"Want you there? Absolutely. I'd much rather have you there, but Howard hasn't even told them I'm coming to the meeting yet. He and Scottie think that the best way to contain it is-"

"To blindside them?"

Tom chuckled. "Basically."

"I'm sure that's going to go over great after the stunt you and he pulled a couple of years ago to get Whitehall out."

The smile stretched into more of a grin. "Yeah, we're trying to find a balance between keeping it quiet and not spooking them."

"You're going to do great, you know that right?"

He snorted. "Long as I can convince them of that."

"I'm serious." He looked at her and found his wife's clear blue eyes fixed on him. "I know you're an amazing operative, but this… running Halcyon, I think you'd be really good at it."

"Wouldn't hurt having me out of the field, huh?"

She grimaced a little. "That's not what I'm saying."

Tom's smile didn't fade as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "I know."

"I'm saying that you told me that the Major trained you to take over St Regis. This may not be exactly the same, but you have the background for it. You'd be really good."

He waited a moment, letting her words sink in and he felt the knot in his chest loosen just a little. "What would I do without you?" he murmured.

"You're never going to have to find out," Liz answered firmly. "Now go. The car'll be downstairs any minute and you know Agnes isn't going to let you walk out that door easily."

"We may not get date night alone after this," he laughed.

"She'll be okay. Once things settle back out, she'll be okay."

Tom nodded and stole one more kiss. "I'll call you when it's done," he promised before he moved to walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs. At least he could tell his little girl in all honesty that he'd see her in just a few hours. Soon this would be over, and once the Cabal was finally gone and Garvey with them, his family would be safe.

They had put together more of a paper trail for this meeting than Tom had likely had in his lifetime. Howard flipped through the files of research from Christopher's disappearance as a small boy, adoption papers for Jacob Phelps, and a few medical and educational records that they had been able to uncover. There hadn't been many with most traces of Jacob Phelps wiped clean when he had joined St Regis. While his juvie records were probably better left undisturbed anyway - Howard knew the types of children that Bill McCready had gone after in his days as the Major and he wasn't under any disillusions that his son hadn't fit the profile - they hadn't found any trace of those in the search. There were photos that Pendergast had delivered to him over his years of searching. At the time the first photos had been taken - some five years or more now - Tom had been one of several young men that Howard's PI had suspected might be Christopher. He'd just returned from Germany at the time and already had one death certificate under the name Tom Keen, even if it had since been buried along with the annulment papers and the charges filed against him when Liz had found out that he wasn't who she had thought he was. It hadn't been until he was shot and Pendergast had used his connections at the hospital to get a direct DNA sample that he'd made the match.

"It all looks like more than one person can live through when you see it all laid out like that," Scottie murmured from the door.

"Look at our lives," Howard countered and he saw her frown.

"I've wondered if it would have been better or worse for him if he hadn't been taken."

Howard pulled in a deep breath, closing the file and turning his full attention on her from his place at the long, empty conference table. "I'd like to say we would have protected him, but…"

"But there's not guarantee of that."

"No." He felt Scottie move behind him and her hands were on his shoulders. He leaned back in the chair. "Even if we had, he wouldn't be where he is today or who he is today That life took him to Liz and Agnes, and we found him."

"You found him," she said softly.

"We found him. I think he turned out pretty good for all this. Is he on his way?"

"Should be here any time." Scottie circled around and took a seat next to him, holding out one last file. "Harold Cooper sent this over this morning. I thought it might put the board's mind at ease to have one more DNA test that didn't come from us."

"I like that man."

"He has his uses."

Howard offered her a wink. "You just don't like him because he let me out of your nut farm."

"You were dangerous."

"So were you."

His wife hummed an amused sound. "I think the world's a little safer when we're on the same side."

He reached over to where her hand rested on the polished wood and her long fingers curled around his. It felt so natural, so right. It had been for so many years, and it was easier to let everything that had happened be pushed back with only small jabs for now. Sooner rather than later this would be over, though, and they would have to face what they had done to each other and truly begin to heal. He wasn't sure what that looked like, but he knew that he wanted it.

"What are you thinking?" Scottie asked quietly.

"That when this is all over you and I should take some time. Maybe Europe? You love Paris this time of year."

"I do, but Tom-"

"Will be fine. I'm talking about us. You and me trying to get to know each other again."

Her expression melted into a tentative smile. "I like that."

A knock at the door drew their attention and Phyllis stood in the opening. "Tom Keen is here to see you and the board members are starting to come in."

"Send Tom in," Howard instructed. "Thank you."

Their son rounded in almost immediately and Howard spun his chair rather than risk putting weight on his stiff leg. Tom offered a lopsided smile and there was a calmness about him that Howard hadn't expected. It was put on, he realised after a moment, but that was just as well. The board was a whole different battle that Tom wasn't used to, but weakness didn't have any place on display there than it did in the field.

Scottie stood. "They're on their way in. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Tom answered, his gaze flickering down to the documents. "That the DNA test Cooper was sending over?"

"It is." Howard quirked an eyebrow. "They're a skeptical bunch, but four tests performed by four different labs should help ease their minds."

"Yeah, because no one's ever faked a DNA test before," Tom grumbled and took a seat.

"Your wife's experience with DNA tests may not be the best thing to talk about today, son."

That finally pulled a small, real smile from the younger man and Howard closed the file as board members started to file in. He didn't move, but instead waved and greeted them along with Scottie, their cheerful attitudes doing nothing to ease the nerves of a group of people that consistently found themselves guessing at the Hargraves' motivation.

Once they were seated, Howard stood, pulling all eyes towards him. "I'd like to thank you all for clearing your schedules for this. I know that a couple of you had to cut family vacations short, but Scottie and I didn't think it would be right to leave any of the board from this announcement."

"Nearly a year ago you gave Howard and I an ultimatum," Scottie said from her place, her voice commanding the respect of everyone in the room. "We agreed to it, and now we're going to live by it."

"Haven't you been?" Alice Washington, a board member that had been with Halcyon for decades now, asked from her place.

"Howard has decided to officially take time off from his duties because of his injuries -"

"Something he still hasn't fully accounted for," Theo Maddens grumbled.

"-and I'll be stepping down with him for the time being."

A quiet murmur stirred through their board and Howard wasn't surprised that Theo was the one to pipe up first. "And who do you expect to run the company in your absence?"

"I will," Tom answered and for the first time since they had entered all eyes turned towards him.

"And who are you?" Theo grumbled.

Tom drew in a deep breath and Howard could see his son steadying his own nerves. "My name is Tom Keen, but I was born under the name Christopher Hargrave."

The words hung in the air for for just a moment before questions erupted all at once and Howard retook a seat. It was going to be a long morning.

He had always known that bureaucrats could drag a meeting out, but Tom hadn't expected to be stuck in that boardroom until dinner. They had spent all day in that room, various men and women drilling him for information that he didn't have. Some of the gaps were easily filled in by the information Howard and Scottie had put together, but other things - details about his kidnapping, what happened to him after - were pieces of information that he didn't have. Scottie and Howard had been united on that front, though. They had both been convinced that Tom should be honest about the gaps in his memories, but as he pulled himself out of the back of the car that had delivered him to the home that he'd supposedly spent the first three years of his life in, he was regretting not tossing something out there to distract the hounds. They had ended the meeting without resolution and a lot of distrust on all sides. The plan was that they would go home and sleep on the new information and reconvene the next day. The thought of going back into that room and sitting through a replica of the day he'd had made Tom cringe. Right then he needed to get inside, see his family, swallow some food and pills, and get some sleep. Somewhere in there a shower wouldn't hurt either.

"Mr Keen?"

Tom was halfway up the steps to the front door when he heard his name and turned, squinting against the setting sun to see one of the board members that had picked every inch of the information provided to pieces over the day. Madden. Theodore Madden. Howard had said he was a lawyer. Great. "I thought we decided to put things on hold until tomorrow."

The tall, thin man tilted his chin just a little and his lips twitched downward. Tom felt like he was on display in front of him where he stood, and consciously squared his shoulders a little. He hoped that he didn't look as rundown as he felt.

"I knew Christopher Hargrave," Madden said slowly, his words deliberate and his gaze piercing. "Scottie and Howard would bring him into the office. We all felt their loss when he was taken away."

Tom blinked slowly, his expression carefully guarded as he waited for Madden to get to the point.

"I took some time to look over the files Scottie had on you in your brief time with Halcyon-"

"Yeah, where'd you fit that in?"

Madden snorted. "Scottie has a habit of leaving her files on the thin side, but I've known her long enough to read between the lines. You're a gifted operative, but a liability. You worked a brief job with our company that was classified under Grey Matters and then she brought you on full time a year later to continue working with the team that specializes in our black ops division. You then, somewhere along the way, decided to switch your loyalties to Howard, or did he send you in to begin with?"

"I just wanted answers," Tom said honestly.

"And you got them the only way you knew how?" Madden asked skeptically. "By lying and deceiving those around you. That doesn't instill confidence."

"Listen, if you think I'm…. I don't know, playing them? Or something? I'm not. Howard sought me out."

"So you didn't know when he approached you?"

Tom set his jaw a little, the phone call that had saved Scottie's life flashing across his memory. Reddington had told him, supposedly, to keep him from making a mistake that would have haunted him. Strange, considering how little care he had for Tom on his own and how he'd believed Liz to be dead at the time. "I'd heard rumours from an unreliable source," he said after a moment, "but I didn't follow up on them."

"Why?"

"Because I had a family of my own."

Madden hummed, but looked entirely unconvinced. "The board doesn't need to know our field operatives' backgrounds, Mr Keen. In fact, it's often better if we don't. That doesn't mean that we're entirely unaware of the types of people that are hired, especially in the Grey Matters division. Some are military intelligence, sure, but others - many - come from much less reputable sources all over the world."

"Are you planning on getting to a point some time tonight?"

"Our operatives don't have the clearance to do enough damage for that to be too much of a worry. Not on a large scale, but if one of these organisations put a mole in, convinced two parents - still grieving thirty years after they lost their child - that this man they've run across is their Christopher, that would open up a lot of doors for them. Especially if that man were to take temporary ownership op Halcyon."

"The multiple DNA tests weren't enough, huh?"

Madden shook his head. "There's something about you, Keen. Maybe you faked them. Maybe you are him and are still working for someone else."

"You think I'm trying to sink my parents' company?"

"I think by your own admittance you don't have any memory of them being your parents, so why should I hang my hopes on the idea that you'd be loyal to them?"

Tom shook his head, rolling his eyes a little as a chuckle road out on a breath. He made a split second decision. "Howard saved my life. He used a drug that was developed by Whitehall's technologies to bring me back after the doctors had given up. He sat with me through my recovery and he made sure that I survived it so that I could get back to my wife and daughter. Now he's hurt, he's stretched, and he needs a break. After everything he's been through for me, the least I can do is offer him one."

"Scottie doesn't have to step down with him."

Dark blue eyes darted away and Tom reached up, running his increasingly shaky hand along the back of his neck. "You're right, Madden. I didn't have a great childhood. I was taken and thrown into one crappy situation after another. I thought, for the better part of my life, that my parents were responsible for those circumstances. That they hated me so much that they tossed me out. They found me, years later, and they didn't hate me, but they hated each other. They're trying now. Why would I want to get in the way of that?"

Madden stared at him for a long moment and Tom felt the tension building in his head, the headache that he'd only barely kept at bay during the day growing and pushing his limits. He was exhausted, stressed, and hungry. His medication was off and he was behind on what he had. He had hoped to have time to meet with Gramble that day to calibrate it, but he hadn't had the chance. The last thing he wanted to parade in front of this man was any sort of weakness. The truth could be given in small, curated bites, but he had no interest in sharing with him anything about his health.

There were some things that not even he could hide though.

"Get some rest, Mr Keen. You look like you could use it, and we're all in early tomorrow morning." With that, Madden turned and started down the path.

Tom stood there for a long moment, even after he'd gone, before he finally moved for the door. His hand was trembling as he reached for it, the key missing a couple of times before he finally fit it into the lock and turned it, letting himself in. By this point he could feel all the signs of what he thought he was over and he just wanted to find a place to lie down.

"Tom?" Liz's voice drifted in from another room. "Hey, you didn't show at Gramble's appointment earlier and I thought…. Babe, you okay?"

He blinked hard, focusing on her and suddenly she was right in front of him. "Just a long day."

"I'm calling her."

"I'll go in tomorrow." He turned, regretting the motion instantly as the floor seemed to shift beneath him. Her hand was in his arm instantly.

"Tom."

There was no arguing with that tone, and from the look on her face he knew he'd given her reason to worry. "Okay. She's not going to be at the office anymore."

"I have a feeling your parents pay her enough to come here."

He had been doing better. As long as he stayed on top of his medication and paid attention to the warning signs his body gave him, he hadn't had an episode like Liz had seen their first night back together since then. He got run down a little bit easier and was a little stiffer first thing in the morning than he ever had been before, but all in all he had been doing fairly well.

Until now. Liz frowned from her place at the bedroom door where Dr Gramble was drawing blood and giving instructions. Tom was stretched out and he looked like he was coming down with something. Maybe he was.

"Nothing we haven't seen before," Gramble told him as she tested the syringe in her hand. When she was satisfied it was ready she instructed him to make a ball with his fist and Liz saw her husband watch the needle as it slid in. "With your…. heightened activity level the dosage needs to be adjusted. This is what happens when you skip scheduled appointments and don't fill me in."

Tom shot her what might have been an innocent grin. "I hadn't exactly planned on making the board meeting an all day affair."

Gramble snorted. "You should rest tomorrow."

Tom leaned back against his pillows. "No time. You think I'll be good to go in the morning?"

"Get a good night's sleep, add a half pill to your dose in the morning with breakfast, and you probably won't look like death warmed over by the time the day's done. Probably."

"You're the best, doc."

Gramble made a small, discontented sound as she put her tools away and turned towards Liz. She motioned very subtly and the dark haired woman blinked in surprise. Funny. Gramble never had any interest in discussing Tom's health with her. She risked one glance back to see he was already slipping towards sleep before following the doctor out into the hall.

The other woman didn't say anything for a moment, but simply stood and looked Liz over. Her lips twitched downward. "He asked for you when he first came around," she said abruptly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Tom. He went into such a panic that I had to sedate him to make sure he wasn't going to hurt himself again." She closed her eyes and sat back in her chair. "He had two surgeries. One as soon as he came in to try to finish what the ER team had stopped because they called his time of death and a second a week and a half later. We kept him in a medically induced coma to give him what chance we could to let him heal, and even when he came out of it everything he did, every inch he fought, was to get to you."

Liz found herself staring at the blonde woman. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because your husband is the most stubborn patient I've ever had, Agent Keen, and I've treated his father. He fights like hell and, in part, it's why he's still alive. It's also what could get him killed."

"Tom's good at what he does," Liz said very carefully. "He knows how far to push the risks."

"He doesn't know the risks. None of us do. Whitehall's formula was cracked, yes, but he's not overseeing the process. It's different, slower, and while Dumont is fixing and reconfiguring Tom's watch, we're back to the guessing game. You didn't see him during that time."

"He's better now," Liz argued. "Further along in the healing process."

"Better, yes, but not well. The concussion he received in the car crash didn't help." Gramble pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "I don't know what you're all planning. I don't need to know every detail, but I've never been on board with putting him in the field even when his medication was balanced. I wouldn't clear him for it."

Liz watched the older woman for a long moment. "Why aren't you having this discussion with him?"

"Like I said, he's stubborn. It'd be a waste of breath, but from what I've seen, he'd do anything for you."

The memory of Tom's pained expression when she had asked him to sit out of Garvey's arrest flashed across Liz's mind. He had done it because she had asked him to. If he would do it again or not didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. They were a team and she had promised to trust him. She met Gramble's eyes. "I won't manipulate my husband into sitting this out. If you think he's in danger because something might go wrong here, fix the problem."

"I'm doing my best," Gramble promised and motioned back towards the bedroom. "The dose I gave him tonight should help balance his system out. If he's still running a fever in the morning then he needs to stay here."

Liz watched as the doctor turned and left without another word. She stood there and listened to the footsteps echo down the stairs to let herself out before she looked back towards the room, inching forward as quietly as possible so that she wouldn't wake Tom. He was dozing, looking much more comfortable than he had when he had come in a couple of hours earlier. He was still a little pale under the slight flush against his face, but his breathing was even and when his eyes fluttered open they were clear. He smiled for her. "Hey you."

"Hey," she greeted back, reaching forward and running her fingers along the side of his face. He leaned into the touched before lifting his own hand to hold onto hers. "How're you feeling?"

"Better. Gramble say anything else?"

"Just a lot of warnings."

"She's good at that."

Liz tightened her grip on his hand, taking a careful seat next to him. "She wants me to talk you out of doing what we're doing."

Her husband blinked at her. "Are you going to?" he asked carefully.

She paused a moment, letting the question weigh on her before she leaned down and pressed her lips against his. "No," she murmured, barely breaking the kiss. "I'm going to trust you, like I promised I would. If you tell me you're coming home to me after this, I believe you."

"Thank you."

"We're doing this together."

He nodded, his eyes already drifting closed. "You coming to bed?"

"I just need to check on Agnes one more time and I'll be right in."

"'Kay."

She squeezed his hand. "I love you."

"You too," he whispered and the last word faded as he drifted back to sleep.

The sun had long since set as a black town car pulled up alongside Doctor Meredith Gramble just a few steps after the taxi had let her out. Town cars in this part of town weren't uncommon on Park Avenue, but this one seemed to be creeping right along at her pace, slowing as she did, and finally pulling to the side. She should have kept walking. Everything in her told her she should have kept walking. It wasn't far to the door of her high rise apartment and whoever had been was in the car wouldn't dare follow her in there with the security that was kept. Curiosity had always been her downfall, though. It's what had brought her to Halcyon to begin with.

She stepped closer to the edge of the sidewalk and as she leaned down the rear passenger's side window rolled down as well. A well dressed man smiled charmingly at her. "Dr Gramble, I presume."

Her lips twitched downward. "And who are you?"

His smile only widened. "My name is Raymond Reddington and I'd like a few moments of your time."

Notes: I've decided I really like Dr Gramble. She began in this story as a very minor character but has stuck around. And now Reddington has a hold of her.... that's never good. And poor Tom. This guy just needs a vacation. A nice long, no one shooting at him styled vacation.

Next Time: Reddington enlists Liz's help for the next step of the plan and Halcyon's board makes their decision about Tom.

Chapter Text

Raymond Reddington had heard the name Gramble over the years. Howard had snagged her years ago out of Johns Hopkins and hadn't let her go. She was kept on retainer at both a professional and a personal level and, if Reddington were to make an educated guess, was responsible for overseeing Tom's recovery when Howard had hid him away and pumped him full of Whitehall's untested drugs.

That was why, when all of his contacts within Halcyon shut down and dried up - likely at the Hargraves' demand, now that their son held Red's secret in his hands. He wasn't the only one that garnered loyalty - Red had decided to reach out to a new one. It was a different angle to play, and one that he hadn't bothered with before. They did have a common goal no: getting all of them through this and out alive. Perhaps that made this a more reliable angle in the end.

Meredith Gramble was in her early forties, blonde, and strikingly beautiful with her pale grey eyes and olive skin tones. She looked the part as she strode down Park Ave in her designer dress and red highlighted Louboutins, a bag that could have been a purse or a fancy medical bag carrying the supplies she would have needed for anyone inside of the Hargrave home in Riverdale. There was no telling who she'd been to see between with the injuries the family had been dealt lately. Howard had been shot, Tom's health was always in flux, and Elizabeth was still recovering from cracked ribs. Despite their claims of working together, Reddington had found himself shoved to the sidelines of information and he had never been good at waiting. He refused to simply be the mastermind behind getting into the Cabal. If they wouldn't tell him what was going on, he'd find out for himself.

He had Dembe pull up next to Dr Gramble, the woman noticing immediately and she turned her attention to the polished town car so that Reddington rolled down the window immediately. He flashed her a smile. "Dr Gramble, I presume."

"And who are you?" she asked, her voice tight and careful.

"My name is Raymond Reddington and I'd like a few moments of your time."

He watched her expression. She seemed to know who he was and she risked a glance back and forth down the street. She was alone, still several yards away from her own building's doorman. If she thought she was in danger she could call for him, but it'd make a scene. If Red knew anything about Howard he knew the man hated a scene that he didn't cause himself.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked and he didn't let his smile falter.

"Everyone has a choice, Dr Gramble, just as you do now." He reached out and tugged at the door handle, pushing it open and sliding over in the back seat of the town car. "Would you join me?"

She took one more glance down the way before turning back and finally nodding. She slid into the back seat with him and closed the door behind her. Dembe was already in the processes of pulling that window up from the driver's seat. Meredith Gramble's lips twitched downward. "I know who you are."

"Oh good. Then introductions aren't necessary."

"I know what you do. What you could do…. to me."

"I have no interest in hurting you. I simply need information."

"And if I'm unwilling to give it?"

"I respect doctor-patient confidentiality, Dr Gramble. I do, but there are larger things at play here."

"That's not an answer."

Reddington tilted his head, studying her. He watched her watching him and he could see her coming to her own conclusion. Her expression darkened and she swallowed hard. "I won't help you hurt my patients."

"I would expect nothing less from one of Howard's trusted employees."

Confusion tugged at the subtle lines of her face. "Then what do you want from me?"

"Information," he repeated.

"About?"

Reddington offered her a small, encouraging smile. "Where we stand."

The Keens had slept so hard that they hadn't heard Scottie and Howard come in the night before. One moment Liz had stretched out in the bed next to Tom and the next their alarm was going off. She stirred first, finding her back pressed to Tom's chest and his arm carefully draped over her. He groaned a little at the music that sang out from the cell phone and she felt him nuzzle in a little closer, kissing the crook of her neck. It was everything Liz could do to keep from tossing the phone across the room and going back to sleep.

After a long moment Tom was the first to move towards getting up and he pressed another kiss to her shoulder before rolling off his side of the bed. Liz turned to watch him. "How're you feeling?"

"Better."

True to what Gramble had said the night before, Tom didn't look like death warmed over. His colour was better and even his hands seemed to have stopped shaking, or at least visibly so.

Liz forced herself up, digging through her bag for a fresh set of clothes and glancing at the clock. Agnes was usually up by then, unless she had decided it was time to learn how to sleep in. It was a small hope.

She fastened the button on her jeans and turned, watching Tom pull his tank top that he had slept in off and replace it with a t-shirt. Gramble had stressed breakfast and taking it easy that morning, but there was only so much time to be had.

They made their way downstairs, still a little blurry eyed, and Liz stopped at the bottom as the sound of voices filtered from the kitchen. One wasn't overly surprising. Agnes' excitable, clipped words could be heard rattling on and on about about chocolate pancakes. It was the other that made her pause. Low but familiar tones drifted in from the breakfast nook and Liz made a beeline for it, circling around to see the culprit she knew she had heard.

"Elizabeth! Good morning. I trust you slept well. Have some coffee. Of all the questionable decision-making Scottie has indulged in over the years, the coffee she keeps on hand is not one of them. Or is this your doing, Howard?"

Liz stared at him and Reddington smiled that infuriating smile like there was nothing wrong with him sitting there. Scottie certainly didn't look pleased. Her expression was tight and irritable even as she settled back from where she looked like she had been ready to dive over the table and throttle him. If her thin robe and silky pajamas under it were anything to go by, she hadn't had any warning about the visit either.

"What are you doing here?" Liz finally managed.

"Making sure things go smoothly today. Our plan hitches on your husband being able to win the board over."

"And what makes you think that he won't?" Liz asked tightly.

"I had a chat with Dr Gramble last night. Lovely woman. Did you know that she played tennis through college?"

"By chat he means he abducted our doctor," Howard said as he limped in from the kitchen, Tom and Agnes helping him with the plates.

Agnes presented her chocolate chip pancakes covered in enough whip cream that her mother wondered if someone had just handed the can over to her. "Look!"

"I see it, sweetie."

"Grandpa's pancakes are the best!"

"Better than mine?" Tom asked her with a wink.

"Yeah."

And just like that Tom's expression fell and he looked a little offended. "Ouch, kiddo."

"Abduct is a strong word," Reddington was saying to Howard. "I simply asked for a few minutes of her time and a little information."

"Gramble is locked down tight on her confidentiality," Liz pointed out, reaching for some of the fruit that was already on the table. "She must have known who you are."

"She did."

"And what you could and probably would do to her," Liz finished pointedly.

Reddington raised his hands in defense. "I didn't touch her. What conclusions she came to were her own doing. Measures need to be taken when not everyone is being as honest as they claim to be." His gaze swiveled over to Tom and the Concierge of Crime looked Liz's husband up and down. "I hear you're having trouble with balancing your medication."

"It's under control," Tom answered as he took a bite of toast. His eyes darkened a little as he met Red's gaze and his voice was a little more dangerous than before. "I'm fully capable of holding up my end, Reddington. You just make sure to hold up yours."

Reddington waved him off. "There's no room for error here, Tom. I came with an olive branch this morning and all of you act like-"

"You threatened an employee of ours?" Scottie cut in.

Reddington rolled his eyes dramatically. "I'm offering you Whitehall back. He's useless to me and he is capable of fixing what Dr Gramble cannot in less time."

"What's the catch?" Tom asked warily.

"That you do your job, Tom. The one that, as much as I loathe to admit it, only you can do right now. I need you as reliable as you're capable of being."

"Daddy, do you haveta go talk to the people today?"

Tom's expression eased as he looked down at their daughter who had whip cream and chocolate all over her face now. "Yeah, baby girl. They have a lot of questions for me."

"Like what?"

"Like if your grandpa and grandma are really my dad and mom."

The little girl put her fork down with that one, her nose crunching up as she thought. "Why don't they believe you?"

Tom paused, his lips twitching downward. "Because I've been gone a long time."

"But you always come home," Agnes said happily and that eased her daddy's expression.

"Always."

"If everything goes well today we'll be tied up reversing death certificates and working through paperwork," Howard said and Liz didn't miss the twitch her husband gave at the thought.

"I guess you'll legally be Christopher Hargrave again," she murmured.

"I'm not changing my name."

Reddington quirked an eyebrow at that. "First time for everything I suppose."

"At least I didn't take someone else's name," Tom said tightly and Reddington's lips tilted down. Tom smirked a little at it before turning his gaze back on Agnes, then on Liz and she smiled for him. He had found his family, found himself as Tom Keen, and he had been adamant about keeping his name.

"We'll make it work," Scottie said as she stood. "We'll need to head in soon."

"Elizabeth."

Liz looked over at Reddington wearily.

"I understand that you're not cleared for your usual level of adventure, but I have something that I could use you on, if you're willing."

"One last case before it all ends?" she asked and his expression fell.

"I suppose so."

She watched him for a moment, assessing the truth behind it as best as she could. He rarely had a single reason for any action he took and, like everything else, his request would have layers of reasoning behind it. This wasn't a whim he was following, that much she knew for sure, but exactly what he wanted from her could only be seen if she went. "Well, I guess that means that Agnes is going to see Miss Candy."

Her daughter smiled, messier than before and Liz shook her head. This was going to be a strange day.

In true Reddington fashion he didn't seem inclined to share more information than was needed. Dembe picked both of them up from the Hargrave home and Liz had found herself being shuffled along until they reached the airstrip where his plane was waiting. Edward offered her his quiet hello before disappearing into the cockpit for the quick trip down to DC.

It wasn't until they were in the air that he sat back, glass of scotch in hand, and explained that there were protocols for reaching out to the Cabal. It was easier when Laurel Hitchin was alive. He had a direct and single contact for any deals brokered, but between her death and Reddington's period of rebuilding, that had become less straightforward. The contacts changed now, often making it difficult to reach out to anyone with any power to decide anything. Even shadow governments had bureaucracy, apparently, though Reddington seemed to be sure he'd found a way in this time.

"So why do you need me?" Liz asked carefully, watching his expression.

He looked over his glass. "Because it's not a simple meet."

Reddington handed her a file and Liz opened it, instantly recognizing the man. "Eric Kyle? Your Cabal contact is the American ambassador to Russia?"

"One and the would be surprised how many US officials are involved with the Cabal at various levels."

"After my time working with you, no. I wouldn't." She kept flipping through the file. "How do we even know he's in town?"

"Your mother made sure of that."

She sighed, setting the files down and leaning back in her seat. "Okay, so what? We break in at his house and-"

"Oh no. I have an invite. Well, not under my name of course. We would get through the front door," he chuckled and Liz narrowed her eyes.

"Invite? To what?" she asked warily.

"A party that Kyle's wife has put together. Political elite will be swarming the place. We'll have to find you something to wear."

Liz narrowed her eyes a little at that. "A party? You're dragging me back to DC to go to a party with you?"

"Don't worry, Elizabeth. If all goes as planned you'll be back in New York before Agnes wakes up."

She would believe that when she saw it. "It's just us then?"

"Wouldn't that be splendid, but no. We're working quickly and quietly, so I thought we'd bring in some trusted friends. If this is all about to end, we might as well go out on an interesting Blacklister, wouldn't you say? Agent Mojtabai seemed absolutely thrilled at the prospect of going undercover with Agent Navabi."

His excitement was almost contagious. Almost. She shook her head and suppressed a smile. "Okay. One last time."

"Wonderful."

"If there's one thing these people can do, it's stretch a debate out for days," Howard huffed.

Tom looked back and over his shoulder from where he sat with Scottie at her desk, the two of them pouring over paperwork they would need while the board deliberated. Howard was stretched out on the couch and the day had been wearing in him. He had been pushing himself too hard, his wife knew, but it was a waste of breath to try to convince him of that.

"If your buddy Madden has been whispering in their ear pulling this off us going to be difficult," Tom grumbled and turned back to what he was doing.

Howard groaned, but Scottie tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"He showed up at the house last night," Tom answered without looking up. "Seems to think I orchestrated this to take advantage of grieving parents."

"Hell," Howard muttered. "He's always been a meddling bastard, but if he costs us this in-"

"Reddington's already started reaching out quietly. Is it possible that he has ties to the Cabal and he's phishing?"

Scottie shook her head. "We've done full security sweeps and we've known Theo since you were born. He's not with the Cabal."

"Might explain a few things," Howard popped off from his place.

"Like what? The fact that he doesn't trust you? You didn't do yourself any favours by faking your death and breaking into your own company." He didn't bother with an answer and Scottie straightened. "I'll deal with Theo."

"Careful, Scottie," Howard warned. "He's looking for something even if he doesn't know what."

She let her lips tilt upward. "Where's your faith?"

"Let us know if you need help hiding the body," Howard called after her and she rolled her eyes a little. The two men had never gotten along well, even if the respect that had once made their working relationship tolerable had only been decimated in recent years. It was no surprise that he had turned some of the same animosity on Tom. They just didn't have time.

Scottie blew past Theo's personal assistant and the protest died on her lips before it escaped. "Ms Hargrave. Mr Madden wasn't expecting you."

"He should have the moment he decided to show up at my house last night and throw around accusations," Scottie popped back, not bothering to slow down.

Theo met her at his office door. "Scottie."

"Have a seat, Theo," she instructed and her tone left no room for argument. She watched him halt for a brief moment before following her order and she stood over him. "You and I have worked well together for a lot of years now. I haven't forgotten that you were instrumental in making sure I had what I needed to run Halcyon when Howard became… incapacitated."

Theo snorted. "He went batshit crazy, Scottie. You and I both know it. It's the reason I voted him out then and the reason I was so adamant about making sure you were there to balance him now."

Scottie's lips tilted in a cool smile. "I'm aware of your loyalty, but now I need your trust."

"Then stay, Scottie. Howard wants to step down, fine. That's his own decision, but the board can get behind you holding down the fort until he comes back. If he comes back."

"The board can back Tom just as easily."

"Scottie, that man-"

"Is my son. DNA tests have been run through multiple sources, but beyond that I know. I see him."

"Even if he is Chris, that doesn't mean he's the boy you knew. You don't know what happened to him, who took him. By his own account he doesn't have any memories of it and you want to trust him with your company?"

"Yes," Scottie answered sharply. "You may not know him, but I do. I've spent time with him and I would trust Tom with my life."

"You may have to," Theo grumbled. "If this goes wrong…"

"They're going to approve him," Scottie breathed and Theo met her gaze.

"Yes."

Relief swept through her, followed immediately by the dread of knowing that Tom would be painting a bullseye on himself the moment he stepped in front of the cameras. The company might be important, but their son was everything. She couldn't lose him again.

Theo cleared his throat, reaching for some files. "He's been living under the name Tom Keen and there's a death certificate under that name from about a year and a half ago. Assuming that is his legal name, it'll need to be reversed along with the one under his birth name. You've already gathered the evidence and we've never had an issue getting a judge to see us, so that should be a relatively quick process. I'll get that started and get Judge Ryker on the line."

"Thank you, Theo."

"I don't have much of a choice, Scottie. Do you plan to do this quietly?"

"No. Howard and I feel like public announcement is better."

Theo certainly didn't look like he agreed, but he didn't argue. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm…. sorry if I crossed a lie last night, Scottie. My fear is for this company. And for you."

"And now it's for Tom. He'll need the support."

"I'm sure he will."

Without another word Scottie turned. They had a lot of work to do.

Reddington had always been a meticulous sort, but he was also patient. He waited for just the right time, the perfect opening, and it had paid off over the years. Most deals took a great deal of hard work and many required some creative fenangling to set all the players in just the right spot. This one was no different. While on the outside much of their plan hinged on Tom's ability to charm the board enough to not only win their majority vote, but also to win their trust enough to allow him the leeway to do what he needed to. Between his own skills in that department and with Scottie and Howard making sure it happened, as long as the man remained on his feet Red didn't have too much to worry in that regard. The Cabal, though, had taken some very delicate work that had required both he and Katarina to work tirelessly the last several days. She still didn't want to reveal how she'd gotten the ambassador home, but that would be a story he very much looked forward to sometime in the future over a few glasses of wine and a much nicer setting than they were currently looking at. She had worked her magic from the shadows, just as she often did, and he had convinced the Task Force that he and Elizabeth would need their help on the inside. Eyes and unlike other cases they had worked together, he promised, and Harold had finally given to that. He had teased Elizabeth about it being one last Blacklister, but it really was. If she stayed true to her demands he would meet with Kyle, Kyle would set the meet, the deal would be struck, and they'd be well on their way to bringing the heads of the Cabal crashing to the ground once and for all. They were the true goal, but that meant that this was the beginning of the end, and that left him feeling nostalgic.

"Shouldn't we be meeting with Katarina or going to the Post Office or…. something productive?" Elizabeth asked from his side, the two walking down the DC street in the early afternoon light.

"Everything's in motion and your mother will call when she's ready." He tilted his chin up, squinting into the sunlight as he took a detour from the path he had been on.

"So we're just wasting time?"

"I wouldn't call it that. Ah," he said as if he hadn't known where he was going and crossed the street towards a little park. It took a moment, but Elizabeth followed after him.

"Reddington," she said warily, but he didn't answer as they crossed into green space. Laughter filled the air as children shouted to be pushed higher on the swings and a handful of teens kicked a ball behind a large gazebo that stood in the middle. Red remained silent as he took one step up, turned, and sat himself down on the weather-worn concrete. She didn't join him, though, but stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at her, tilting his head back just a little further to peer from beneath the brim of his hat. "I have known you since the day you were born, Elizabeth. I… loved you before then, even if you were never mine to love. That didn't matter. It's never mattered." Memories of a little girl with eyes like the sky, just like her mother's, played out across his mind and while his smile was sad, it was real.

Elizabeth moved and took a seat next to him. "Are you going to tell me about my father?"

"When this is done."

"Why not now?"

A small, pained sound escaped him. "Dembe has said for years now that you deserve the truth. Kate certainly made her opinions known by the end. Others too. As…. infuriating as it was, as little right as he had to do it, your husband was searching for answers for you. Because he believed that you had a right to know. Perhaps they are all right. Perhaps you do deserve to know, but that doesn't mean…." It didn't mean he was strong enough to tell her. The mere thought terrified him at a level that he'd forgotten that he could fear. She would leave when she knew. There would be no hope that she would stay. No hope that, somehow, by some grace he didn't deserve, he could know her for a little while longer.

"It's funny… the last time we were here was when Tom had been arrested for the Angel Station murder," Elizabeth murmured softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts. "I remember being so confused and… desperate. I knew I couldn't do it without him. He thinks I can, but I don't want to."

"You won't have to." He turned and met her gaze. "Your family will come through this whole, Elizabeth."

She tried for a smile and after a long moment she reached out, taking his hand just as he had hers that day. Her fingers curled around his and he squeezed his eyes shut behind his tinted glasses, willing his emotions not to betray him as they sat together.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he blinked his eyes back open to see Dembe crossing the grass from the street, phone in hand. "She's ready," he called out.

"I suppose we should get going then," Reddington murmured. He started to stand, assuming that Elizabeth would loosen her grip on him as he did, but she held tight and he looked down to her.

"The truth is all I've ever wanted," she said. "Everything else is secondary."

He tried for a smile. "Easier said when you don't know what that truth is," he answered tightly and she released his hand. He didn't move away. "I'll stand by the promise I made when you were in the hospital."

Elizabeth stood, never breaking eye contact with him as she did. "Yeah. You will. Let's go." She strode past him and Reddington couldn't move for a long moment, watching the woman that had grown to remind him so much of her mother. She did deserve to know. They were right and in the safety of his own mind he could admit that on his best days, just not out loud. Not where she could hear him. Not until he had to.

Notes: I've always been fascinated with that gazebo scene from S1. There's so much there with Red dangling the truth, Liz confessing that she can't do it without Tom, and all that went into it. It was beautiful, and in light of what we know know, I'd say even a little more twisted than before. It still fascinates me, though, and I'm happy it found a place in this story.

And breakfast in the Hargrave/Keen household with Red. A friend of mine always talked about what a crazy Thanksgiving dinner that lot would have and here's a little snippet lol. I hope you guys are enjoying this! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

Next Time: Reddington takes the Task Force undercover to make contact with the Cabal and Tom prepares for the press conference.

Chapter Text

Reddington was happier than he might have a right to be for the circumstances as he teased and bopped around the space, the FBI agents not as thrilled with their circumstances save Aram. Liz shook her head as she watched their technician fuss over his tux, Samar easily putting it into place. Their movements were so easy, so relaxed that it reminded her just how much time she had lost with her team. It wasn't just the coma. It was her time in Alaska, her time hunting down Navarro and then Garvey. They were willing to stand with her, to work with her, but after this it would all be over. Not just Garvey and the Cabal, but without Reddington there would be no Task Force. They would be split apart, possibly reassigned to different cities.

"You know, there was a day I thought we could trust a few people at least. Even after everything we've done, the Cabal is still embedded in our government."

Liz turned, Ressler's voice pulling her attention around and she found herself staring at him, her previous line of though focusing in. Ressler. Next to her he was the one that the Cabal had hurt the most. They had used him while Liz had been on the run and had twisted his mind around after. Even after Hitchin was gone she haunted him in the form of Prescott and all the things he blamed himself for. He wanted to turn himself in when this was over. He wouldn't just be sent to another city, he'd go to prison. After everything he'd done right, after all the sacrifices he'd made, they'd toss him away just like that. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. He deserved more than that.

"You okay?"

She blinked hard. "Yeah. Just… thinking."

Her partner's gaze swept the room. "You think Reddington's being straight with us?"

"Is he ever?"

"Fair point."

She watched him straighten his tie. "I told Reddington I was through when this is over," she said suddenly, feeling like it was more of a confession than a statement.

"So what? This is like a last case for him?"

"Sort of yeah. If it works, I think things will move pretty fast." She winced, meeting his gaze. "It's going to split everyone up."

"Maybe. They'll be okay."

"Ressler, I know you want to turn your resignation in after this is over, but if-"

"Keen, stop," he cut her off. "Don't offer to pull back because you think it'll make me stay. It won't. Even if the Task Force were to stay together, I'm handing my resignation in."

"You shouldn't."

"I have to." The words weighed heavily between them and Liz started to reach out. He tried for a smile. "You deserve to get your life back, Keen."

"So do you," she said quietly and she saw the struggle just below the surface.

"You heard from Tom yet?"

"Yeah. Just a little while ago. Everything went through and the press conference is set for first thing tomorrow morning."

Ressler's eyes widened a little. "Everything's been pushed through already?"

"Well, they're still working on the death certificate reversals, but they've convinced the board. That was the goal. They'll make the public announcement tomorrow."

"You think that the Cabal will take the bait?"

"Reddington sure seems to think so." She glanced away, watching the man in question. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. There was something just below Reddington's flippant demeanour that stuck in her mind. She wasn't sure what, but there was something he wasn't telling them. Big surprise.

"We should bring him in for questioning."

"He's Reddington's point of contact," Liz said irritably. "We bring him in now and he never gets a chance to set the deal." Her partner made a low, thoughtful sound and Liz looked over at him, a small smirk working its way into place. "There's something more to it though, and we're going to find out what it is."

"Elizabeth."

Liz glanced around, her brain taking just a moment to catch up with the fact that the brunette that had called out to her was her mother. Obvious and subtle changes alike had transformed Katarina Rostova into someone else entirely. The newly dark hair was either dyed or a very believable wig and she had hidden her blue eyes behind brown contacts. Even her posture had been adjusted and her expression was different from any that Liz had seen in the short time she had had to become reacquainted with her mother. It was a stark reminder that this woman was a talented covert operative. KGB, former Cabal, and notorious to the point that thirty years after her supposed death her name was still whispered. She was the best of the best.

"Are you ready?" Katarina asked pointedly.

Liz blinked, refocusing. "Yes." She looked back at her partner.

"We're ready in our end."

She nodded. She needed to focus. If they could get in and out, she might make it home in time for the press conference the next morning.

He had been cleared for field duty for over a year at this point, though he rarely made it into the field with the Task Force. Despite the stakes, the questions, and the uncertainty that came with knowing Mr Reddington wasn't who he said he was, there was something exhilarating about donning a tux and sauntering into a high end party like he belonged there. With Samar on his arm, he almost felt like he did. He certainly looked like it.

Aram was having a little trouble focusing with that. She was a knockout in her fitted white dress that plunged in both the front and the back and her heels put her just a little taller than him. He looked up, the memory of when they had first met racing through his mind. Whoah, you're tall may not have been his smoothest line, but there they were. It had taken a while - okay so it had taken a long while - but he had never been happier. She beautiful and perfect and everything. He couldn't imagine his life without her anymore.

"Something on your mind?" Samar asked at his side.

Aram blinked hard, startled out of his thoughts. She was staring at him as they walked through the room and he purposefully looked away, feeling a little self conscious, especially when he realized he had been grinning. "I, uh, was just…. You look great in white. In your white dress. In that dress, not just because it's white or…I mean, you look great in any colour." He didn't have to look at her to know the look she was giving him. It was that teasing smile, her lips quirked just a little at the corners and it went straight to her eyes. It was the same one she gave him when he managed to stick his foot in his mouth all the way up to the kneecap. He swallowed hard and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, Aram."

He cleared his throat awkwardly and let his gaze sweep the room, grateful that she was letting the statement slide. "This whole thing has been kind of wild, huh? Mr Reddington isn't Mr Reddington and Agent Keen…. do you think she'll come back after this is over? I mean, she still hasn't gotten her badge back."

"I'm not sure there will be anything to come back to," she murmured and looked like she had already spotted something. Of course she had. It wasn't like they weren't there to work, even if Mr Reddington only wanted them there for backup. Aram shook his head, trying to pull himself out of the excitement of what was the most spy-like field assignment he'd ever seen. They might as well have been in a Bond movie. Of all the times for Tom not to have….

"Wait. Why wouldn't there be anything to come back to?"

"Reddington's gone after this."

"He wouldn't leave Liz."

"She's the one that told him to. According to Ressler, at any rate. Look."

He followed her gaze as discreetly as he could to see the ambassador. "I guess it'd make sense that he'd be easy to spot at his own party. How is Mr Reddington going to get him to the side?"

"A distraction," Samar answered and she let go of his arm. There was something in her eyes, though, and Aram stumbled to catch up to the plan he hadn't been let it on yet.

"Wait, are you the distraction? But we're only supposed to be eyes and ears. That's what-"

Her gaze slid over to him and the look had turned somewhat mischievous. "For the most part."

He wasn't sure when that decision had been made, but Liz seemed to be in on it too from the look that happened across the room. Samar moved towards her and Aram was left standing alone for a moment.

"Any number of these people could be with the Cabal," Ressler's voice came from behind, startling him.

Aram did his best to keep his eyes on the crowd. "But that should come out, right? When we get to the leadership?"

"I sure hope so."

Dark brown eyes blinked slowly as he saw Samar approach the ambassador. She was all charm and beauty and he was grinning like she already had him in her pocket. He had no idea who she was, but he was obviously inclined to find out. Aram watched her as she laid a hand on the small of his back and whispered something in his ear. It was everything he could do not to stare. He knew she was good. It wasn't like he had never seen her in the field, but had had never been there when she'd been sent in to essentially seduce someone. It had always been something he heard over comms, and seeing it with his own eyes was making him a little flustered. No. No. He was a professional. He was a field-trained agent in the FBI. Samar was too. This was a case, and a very important one. They had this. With a steadying breath pulled in he looked back up, trying to keep his glance casual as he watched her maneuver the ambassador out of the main room, Agent Keen likely waiting on the other side of the door, and he lost visual on Eric Kyle.

Things had fallen into place better than he could have reasonably hoped in the short time they had had to throw it together. That was half the fun though: the adrenaline rush that accompanied last second moves and close calls. He did enjoy the rush, and this was was working out better than he could have predicted.

Eric Kyle was an arrogant bastard. Red had known he wouldn't be able to resist Samar Navabi if she worked her charms on him. It wasn't Samar that would immediately draw attention, though. Not for someone that would spot a cop in the crowd that shouldn't necessarily be there. It was Donald Ressler, a face relatively well known in some circles now, and certainly by the head of the FBI, and that's why he had wanted Ressler out in the middle of the crowd and fully visible. Reddington had known that the moment FBI Director Conrad Davis spotted Ressler that he would start watching the crowd a little more closely. He might spot Aram, who would lead him to Samar. From there Reddington saw his expression darken as Kyle happily followed the gorgeous woman out of the crowd. Something was happening, and poised as they were, Davis wasn't taking any chances. It wasn't until he excused himself from his conversation and slipped out the back that Red made his move.

He slid through the crowd easily and ducked to follow Davis out the side door. The air was brisk and it hit him right in the face, but neither man had bothered going to the coat closet. Davis was reaching for his phone, a cigarette dangling from his lips as his chilled fingers attempted to dial. "I wouldn't do that just yet."

He turned, immediately on guard. "You."

"Me," Reddington said cheerfully.

Realisation dawned on the other man and Davis nodded slowly. "Of course they're with you."

His smile didn't fade. "They are, but for just a moment you really did think Kyle had been caught in something. Tell me, what do you think it'd be? Smuggling? Passing along classified information? Really, where did the days go when your organisation demanded the height of loyalty?"

"Some asshole decided to try to leverage our secrets back in the day," Davis snapped and Reddington met his gaze. Funny, he thought he was referring to him.

"So he did. I'm not here to talk about the past with you, just the future."

"There are channels if you want to broker a deal," the director snapped, his dark gaze sweeping the area to check and make sure they were still alone.

"But you're the one I wanted to speak to. You're the one set to gain from it."

"You can't offer me anything I'd be interested in, Reddington. "There was no need for all the theatrics or bringing the FBI in so close."

"Nothing at all? Not even Halcyon Aegis?"

That got his attention. "Impossible. Howard's back at the head and even if Scottie pushes him out again she hates us just as much."

"Neither of them will be in charge for long." Reddington's lips twitched upward again at the look he received for that one.

"What do you know?"

Reddington tilted his head, watching the other man carefully. "Tomorrow morning Halcyon Aegis will hold a press conference and they'll be announcing that both Howard and Scottie are taking a leave from the company. Their son will be taking their place."

A little colour finally drained from Davis' face. "They found the boy."

"They found the boy. Funny thing, you've run across him. Several times now, in fact, and one of your boys just about killed him about a year and a half ago, though I hardly think Garvey would have had any idea what hornet's nest he was kicking over when he attacked Tom Keen."

He had Davis' undivided attention now and the other man took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke pouring out with his words. "I heard about the mess with Garvey. He was after you, wasn't he?"

"He was. That's dealt with."

"Why would he want to cut a deal with us?"

"Because everyone has their limits, Conrad. You and I both know that. He's young, but he has a family of his own. His daughter is about the same age he was when he was taken, and now that he knows what lengths the Cabal really will go to…."

"He wants to protect his family."

Reddington hummed and sipped on the drink he still had in his hand. "He'll be willing to make the trade once he has control of the company, but the deal will need to be struck quickly."

"And he came to you with this?"

"Through certain channels, but yes."

"And what would those be?" Reddington only smiled and Davis rolled his eyes. "We might have something, once he actually has control of the company."

"You see now why all the theatrics," the Concierge of Crime chuckled. "You've always wanted Halcyon."

Davis snorted. "I never thought it'd be Christopher Hargrave offering it to me on a silver platter." He flicked what was left of his cigarette out, the embers bouncing off of the walkway in the cold night air. "Does he remember anything?"

"No."

"Nothing about his kidnapping?"

"He was a child, Conrad, and I know you well enough to know that your people were thorough." Davis shot him a dirty look and the gamble he'd made on a theory seemed to have paid off. Reddington shrugged. "Don't worry. Spilling your secret at this point would be bad for business."

"I can't promise they'll go for it, Red."

"I know how persuasive you can be. Convince them. A little safety for Christopher Hargrave and his family is a small price to pay for Halcyon Aegis in your pocket after so long and so many failed attempts. Just think about what you could do with it."

"It's a compelling deal," Davis agreed and Reddington could see the greed reflected in those dark eyes. "I'll be in touch. Get your people out of this party."

"My people? Aren't they more yours?"

"Not since the moment that Diane signed that agreement with you," the FBI director huffed and started off. He left Reddington standing there in the cold, watching him. He had him. He knew that he did. The question became if it would be enough for the others at the top to take the risk. A foolish boy grown into a man that was desperate to protect what he had and cared little for what he couldn't even remember didn't seem like much of a threat, but the son of one of their most talented former operatives and the mind behind Halcyon Aegis, that was something else entirely.

"They'll know everything about Tom Keen by morning."

Red turned, his expression softening at the sight of Katarina standing there. "Brunette suits you."

"Does it? I thought you always preferred the blonde."

"Or the red." He shrugged a little and she flashed him a smile. "And they will. It's a risk, but one that we needed to take for this. They'll know who he is, who he's been, and the fact that he's shown himself desperate to protect Elizabeth."

"They'll know who she is too."

He paused, and he couldn't quite tell if that was an accusation or not. "Yes, but we always knew that they would. A few hours earlier won't put her in any more danger than she would have been in anyway."

She nodded, strange eyes scanning the empty space. "Will it be enough?"

"For Davis, yes. Halcyon has always been enough."

"For the others?"

"Only time will tell."

Katarina's heels sounded off on the concrete as she crossed over to him, her hand warm against his face. She leaned up, her lips even warmer, and Reddington felt himself being pulled down into it. "You have something else to give them," she murmured.

Red pulled back, the words sending a shockwave through him. "That's out of the question."

"Only time will tell," she echoed and met his gaze. "This has to end here, Raymond. There are no second chances now. Bringing them to their knees wasn't enough."

For a long moment the words wouldn't come. She wasn't wrong. He knew that she wasn't wrong, and he needed to prepare himself for it. They had to put everything on the line if they wished to have a chance at freedom after so long. He had just hoped that in the end he wouldn't be standing entirely alone.

The plan had been simple enough once they got in, Ambassador Kyle needed to be separated from the main crowd so that Reddington could make contact. Red had been confident that Samar would be able to charm him, but Liz was still a little surprised just how easy it had been. The man had taken very little convincing. A sly smile, a wink, and he might have done anything for her. Samar was good, she didn't take anything from that, but this man was looking for any excuse. His excitement had only grown when he had seen Liz waiting in the hallway, but it hadn't taken long for him to figure out they were not there for the reason he'd originally thought. By the time Reddington finally graced them with his presence Kyle was cuffed to the banister.

The ambassador's eyes widened as Reddington strode into the hallway, a smile that Liz recognized as fake sprawled across his features. "Mr Kyle! You're in luck. I won't be needing your services today. I do hope these lovely ladies have kept you company."

"What the hell are you doing here Reddington? This is my home."

"And a lovely home it is. Just a bit of business. You're a difficult man to get ahold of, but as luck would have it getting to you opened up a whole new opportunity with someone much more suited to speak to in your organization. They are crawling around here, aren't they?"

Liz glanced to Samar who stood with a mask of indifference carefully fit into place. "Then that's it?"

"It is. If you'd be so kind to release Mr Kyle we'll be in our way."

Kyle grumbled under his breath, but didn't argue as Samar released him. Liz turned an accusing glare on the man she had once thought was her father. "What was this then? If you didn't need him, why bring us along?"

"You were more helpful than you know. All of you," Reddington answered pleasantly and extended an arm to either woman. "Shall we? I promised to get you home before sunrise and we'll just about make it."

She stared at him for a long moment. They had been played, but to what degree she wasn't sure. It wasn't until she finally took his arm and they were out the back door and down the walkway that he leaned in. "Just because you don't know everything doesn't mean it's not to your benefit. Everything worked just as I hoped it would and we should be set for tomorrow."

"I wish I could trust you enough to just believe that," she said lowly and spotted the rest of her team down the way. The guys had gotten their coats, but Katarina was nowhere in sight.

"Someday, perhaps," Reddington said and released her. Liz didn't look at him as she pulled away and started for the waiting car.

Tom had never thought about how much effort went into coming back from the dead. He had shed countless aliases he had no interest or need to pick up again and there were a few death records filed away on them. He'd never bothered to revive them or even give them a second glance. Hell, he was pretty sure that the name he'd grown up under might have had some something attached before Bud had gotten ahold of it. A missing persons record at the very least. Not that the Phelps' missed him for any other reason than what they could gain off him.

They had spent the day bent over papers, dozens of documents needing to be signed. He had gen met with the judge for a preliminary meeting, even if the legal reversal would take some time yet. His back hurt and he couldn't quite pop the crock out of his neck. He supposed there was some irony in it, the pain reminding him just how alive he was.

He had talked to Liz around dinnertime, finally hearing that Reddington had whisked her away to some sort of diplomatic party. It sounded like an excuse to pull her into another fun op. Something that would remind her how much fun she had and how at home she could feel on his world. It was intoxicating, Tom knew. It sucked you in and swallowed you up, and before you knew you were drowning in all the things you didn't know you should have watched out for. That was the charm of the man that called himself Raymond Reddington. He was careful with what he shared. Careful with the way he allowed others to view him a lifestyle. It left those around him exposed so that he could be protected.

Between that and the looming press conference Tom found himself utterly incapable of sleep that night. He returned back to the Riverdale house close to eight that night and Agnes had been desperately waiting up on him. He'd reached down and scooped her up, holding her close so that she melted against his shoulder as he had made his way up the stairs. She was snoring her tiny little snores by the time he had made it to her room - his own childhood room - and tucked her into bed with the teddy bear and the little penguin night light on the desk. She had held onto his sleeve and asked for a story. It had been the best distraction he could have asked for under the circumstances even if she had dozed off almost immediately.

That had left Tom to fill the hours. He had eaten, showered, and swallowed his pills. Scottie and Howard had crashed and he had been the only one left up. For an hour or more he had tried to sleep only to find himself staring at the ceiling, his mind running wild with everything that had happened and everything that was about to happen. These things used to not phase him, but as he found himself surrounded by more people that he cared about - more people that he loved and could potentially lose - he found himself more restless. More desperate to find ways to protect them.

Somewhere around four in the morning he gave up on sleep and rolled out of the horribly empty bed. The house was quiet and still, and he crept down to the library. He turned on a single light and even that felt too bright for the hour. He squinted against it and ran his hand through his dark hair, standing it on end. He had come a long way to this. Through abandonment and lies and his own stubbornness that would led him into it all. It had brought him to Liz. It had brought him to Agnes. It had even brought him to the parents that hadn't left him and had spent thirty years looking for him. It had made him the man he was, and these last few years had been the first that he was comfortable in his own skin. In his own person. He knew who he was.

He let him long fingers trace over the photo books, the images hidden away inside that he and Liz had already dug through. He'd seen Kevin Jensen in them. All dark curls next to Christopher Hargrave's mop of brown. They had beamed, though. Happy and innocently oblivious to their lives to come. He'd found other photos. Scottie certainly had kept some developer or another in business.

"There's one you haven't seen yet."

He turned, startled by his mother's voice. She stood at the entrance in her robe and sad smile. "What are you doing up?"

"Habit, though I could ask you the same thing."

Tom's thin lips stretched. "I've never slept well without Liz. Gave up on trying tonight."

Scottie moved forward, her bare feet silent on the polished wood floor as she stepped over to the bench next to the window. Tom watched her pull the seat up, revealing a hidden compartment there, and she pulled something from it. It looked like a small collection of photos banded together and she handed them over without a word.

Tom took them, his long fingers brushing hers as he did, and he tugged at the rubber band so he could sort through them easier. "These are from right before I was taken, aren't they?"

She nodded silently and he started shuffling through them. There were pictures of him on the beach, usually with either Scottie or Howard with him, and they were all smiles. Sand castles were built and he sat waist deep in the ocean water, laughing as the spray hit him in the face. As he continued on there were others, and a strange sort of heaviness took over him as he recognised Katarina Rostova in her black bathing suit and large hat. There was no mistaking her, or the little girl toddling with her.

"We knew each other," Tom managed, the words riding out on a breath.

"Yes."

He continued to flip through to find a little boy and a little girl with his wife's eyes. They were smiling and laughing, playing with Scottie and Katarina and Howard and….. "What the hell?"

Scottie purses her lips together at the sight of two men on the same photo. One held Liz, pressing a kiss to her toddler cheek and she seemed happy. The other stood away, though only a little, and there was a longing there. A look that Tom had seen the man they now knew as Reddington cast towards Liz many times. Without a word spoken, he knew who the man holding her had been. "They look so much alike. Were they brothers?"

Scottie's jaw dropped, and for just a moment Tom thought she might answer, but the sound of the front door drew her attention and then his. She reached out for the photos and took them from him, stacking them and putting them away even as Liz rounded the corner looking absolutely exhausted. "What are the two of you still doing up?"

"Reminiscing," Scottie answered with a smile. "But it's is late. We should all get some sleep before tomorrow. Good night."

Tom watched his mother wrap her robe a little tighter and offer Liz a smile on her way out, leaving the two of them in the dim light. "How'd it go?" he asked hesitantly.

"How it always goes. Red said we were there for one thing and he used us to get to something else."

Tom bristled. "What-?"

"No," Liz said quickly. "He still met with a Cabal member. Just in private and not the one he said."

He relaxed just a little. "And?"

"We'll see after tomorrow. Reddington says the seeds are there and he has high hopes."

Tom snorted and reached out. Liz instantly folded into him and he kissed the top of her head. "I thought you might not make it back in time," he confessed after a long moment.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of his shirt. "I'm not going to leave you to the wolves."

His lips tipped up just a little. "Thanks."

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"As much as I can be."

Liz pulled back just a little and as she looked at him he saw traces of that little girl neither of them could really remember. But they had found each other. Despite the insurmountable odds, they had found each other. "I love you," she said, the words firm like a promise. "When this is over, it's over."

He nodded and leaned in, his lips pressed against hers and he felt her arms go around his neck. He sank into the feeling of home. It didn't leave him even as they broke and Liz took his hand, leading him towards the bedroom for the precious little sleep they could claim.

Notes: It's funny, because I thought this chapter was going to be a lot shorter, but then it ended up over 5K long lol. Story of my writing life, but a lot happened in it. For those that were curious about Tom's kidnapping as a child, I haven't forgotten. It's coming. There's just a lot of subjects to tackle in this story and the pacing had to be just right. And here we are: we have now met the man at least involved in some manner with little Christopher Hargrave's disappearance. To what degree, you'll have to wait and see ;)

Next Time: Tom publicly comes out as Christopher Hargrave, Ressler and Cooper have a talk about loyalty, and Katarina makes a decision to protect her daughter.

Chapter Text

Whoever had decided to hold this press conference outside at eight in the morning in New York City in January needed to be fired. Tom thought that might be the first thing he did as the CEO. It was freezing out there, and his usual peacoat and scarf just wasn't enough. He ran his hands together, leather gloves crinkling, as he waited. They still had more news crews that were supposed to come in and Halcyon's PR manager was determined that they couldn't start without them.

"You look like you could use this."

He turned, finding Liz with a cup of coffee in either hand and one slightly closer. "I love you," he said by way of a thank you and took it, the liquid scolding down his throat and it warmed him up from the inside out. "I guess at least they can't tell if my hands are shaking."

"How're you feeling?"

"Fine. Okay."

Liz reached out with her newly freed hand and pulled him closer by the lapel of his jacket. "You nervous?" she asked with a small smile.

Tom swallowed the immediate denial. "A little," he confessed instead.

His wife smiled for him and he felt her gloved fingers wrap a little tighter. "You're going to do great."

"I've spent the better part of my life trying to stay off camera," he murmured thoughtfully. "This could open up more than we ever thought. It's not like I don't have enemies out there. What if-?"

She tipped up on her toes and Tom felt her cold lips on his. Somehow it flooded him with more warmth than the coffee ever could. "I love you," Liz said softly and caught his eyes.

A lopsided smile tilted his lips. "I love you too. I'm glad you're here."

"I wouldn't have missed it."

It was easier to say after she'd gotten home and as she was already standing here, but Tom still knew it was important. Reddington had come between them a lot over the years. He'd dampened the support system. Every missed dinner, every cancelled plan had eaten at him in their first marriage, but here and now he knew. This was where she wanted to be. And likewise, he'd support her. They were a team.

"They're about ready,"

Tom turned, finding Nez approaching from the other side. Her expression was serious, all business, but there was a glint in her eye he recognised. Finally her lips quirked up. "You ready, boss?"

"Guess that's official today, huh?"

"Solomon's thrilled," she said, the sarcasm dripping from the words finally causing her to break into a full grin.

Tom rolled his eyes good naturedly. That wasn't something he had any business getting into, and if he even hedged close to it she'd be the first one to tell him.

"Dumont has eyes and ears on the whole event and we have people all around," Nez said lowly.

"You think the Cabal might try to kill him rather than take the deal?" Liz asked softly.

Nez shrugged. "Better to be prepared for the worst case and never have to deal with it. Your husband has had enough new holes put in him over the years."

"Yeah, let's not add to them," Tom chuckled, his gaze sweeping the area. He spotted a few faces he recognised. "And it's just as much to protect Scottie and Howard."

"The whole thing is a ticking time bomb of things that can go south," Nez agreed.

Tom loosed a breath and saw it cloud out in front of him. The plan was laid out and Reddington was confident in it, but that required a lot of faith in a man Tom was relatively sure didn't deserve it. He had switched things up last second, still holding pieces of information back. These were the people that had taken him when he was a child. Certain members could be more interested in making sure he didn't remember anything rather than striking a deal with him for the company. Nez was right. This was a delicate situation on all ends.

Movement caught his attention and he turned just in time for Scottie to lay a hand against his arm, her dark eyes meeting his own. She gave him a small smile and Howard offered him a wink that made him snort.

"Showtime," Nez murmured.

Liz's hand slipped down into Tom's and he took one last gulp of coffee. No matter what happened, they couldn't turn back now.

Donald Ressler hadn't gone back to his apartment after they finished the op with Reddington in the earliest hours of the morning. Instead he had found himself out on the streets of DC, wandering through snow drifts as the night stretched on. The cold was all that felt good, that chill hitting him right in the face and keeping his thoughts sharp. He had spent a lot of time in this city in recent years. Memories both good and bad were fixed all over town and he still had trouble wrapping his mind around some. Audrey, Reddington, Liz and their team, the Cabal, and Prescott. There were times it felt like watching a movie. So much had happened. Too much, and somehow he had lost himself in it. Somehow he'd given in and he had bent too far, like a rubber band stretched past its capacity. He'd popped back every other time, but now... now he was broken and there was only one way to fix it.

He found himself at the Post Office earlier than anyone else by the looks of it and ghosted his way to his office, fully intent on grabbing his spare suit to change into so that he would be ready for the day. Instead he found himself taking a heavy seat in his chair at his desk, numb fingers reaching for the folded confession tucked away, supposedly waiting until they finished this case. They would take down the Cabal, Reddington would bow out, and Liz would get her life back. The Task Force would disband and she might even move to New York if Tom chose to stay with his parents' company. Ressler would have to face what he had done in the end, and as his fingers played against the paper he wondered if he could wait that long.

A knock at the office door made him jump and Cooper leaned in. "I didn't expect anyone in this early after last night."

"I couldn't sleep," Ressler mumbled, standing.

Cooper shot him a skeptics look, eyeing the tux he still partially wore, the jacket and bow tie discarded. "Did you make it home at all?"

"Thought I'd get some work done." His boss still didn't look convinced and Ressler cleared his throat. "Sir, there's something I need to talk to you about." He held out the letter before he could talk himself out of it and Cooper's brows drew together in question. "It's a signed confession. I've been lying to you, sir. I do know what happened to Laurel Hitchin. I know because I…" He swallowed hard.

"Agent Ressler, stop," Cooper cut in.

"Sir?"

He held up the paper, letting it crinkle a little between his fingers. "I have a feeling I know what this says. I've known for a while. I don't need to hear it and I don't need to read it. You are one of the most dedicated, loyal agents I've come across in my career."

Ressler drew in a breath that he had hoped would steady him and he shook his head. "I've put this team in danger, sir. Hitchin is dead and instead of going through the proper channels, I covered it up. I-"

"You protected them, Donald. You know what would happen if this-" he waved the paper for emphasis- "were to get out? This entire Task Force would come under scrutiny. We have all done things we may not be comfortable with. Not one of us is the same person he or she was before this Task Force began, but we have a job to do, and we do it until it's been completed."

"I can wait until this is finished. Liz told Reddington to take a hike. The Task Force won't stay together without him."

Cooper raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that . Does anybody else know?"

"Liz. And Tom."

"Those two can certainly keep a secret," Cooper chuckled, pulling his glasses from his nose. "I'll make you a deal, Agent Ressler. The moment this Task Force disbands, you are free to do what you feel you need to, but until then I expect your loyalty to be to your team. They need you to do the job that you have proven you do well."

The two men stood there for a long moment and Ressler found himself wanting to believe him and maybe even to find a little peace through it. Cooper truly believed that he'd protected the Task Force in doing what he'd done, and maybe he had. In a way he knew he had. "Okay," he conceded. "As long as the Task Force is together, I'm here."

Cooper nodded, accepting that. "I was on my way out to the war room to switch on the news. I hear there's an announcement being made out of Halcyon this morning."

Ressler nodded, following him out the door. Someone had already turned on the news and they saw a familiar face standing in front of the reporters. Tom looked perfectly at home there, if he was or not. It was hard to say with Tom Keen. They shouted question after the question at him and the answers rolled off his tongue, that charming smile plastered across his face.

A laugh rode out on a breath and Cooper shook his head. "Look at that. He's already got them wrapped around his finger."

"No denying that he's good," Ressler acknowledged.

"I'm glad he's on our side."

Ressler didn't answer, but his eyes were fixed on the screen. The Cabal would be watching, and when they saw this they would know that Reddington had been telling the truth. Christopher Hargrave was alive and well and in full control of Halcyon Aegis. It wouldn't be long now.

It was like opening the floodgates. Liz hadn't realised just how big the story surrounding her husband's disappearance thirty years before had been. The reporters certainly seemed to know. Or maybe they were just grabbing hold of it to make sure it was still the story that would get their name on the byline.

Cameras flashed and microphones were shoved in Tom's face. Liz watched her husband carefully hide any discomfort he was feeling behind a bright smile that they loved and her eyes scanned the crowd that had formed. Most were innocent enough. Curious New Yorkers and tourists alike, but there was one that had stepped up just before Scottie and Howard had begun. He was nondescript in his dark overcoat and beanie pulled down over his ears. It wasn't in the way that he looked, but the way that he was looking at Tom.

"Dumont's running facial recognition now."

Liz looked around at Nez's quiet words. She'd seen him too. "He was one of the first on the scene."

"Almost like he knew it was coming," Nez agreed.

"Cabal?"

"Even if he is we may not have him in our files. Unless you guys have something you're not sharing?"

Liz pushed a long breath out through her nose. "Reddington probably does, but that leaves us all on the outside."

She felt Nez's gaze on her. "I don't envy you. Tom hasn't told me everything, but it's enough to know it hasn't been easy in you."

"I don't think Reddington dropped into my life with the intention of making it easy," Liz answered sharply.

Nez moved for her phone and Liz spotted Dumont's name as she pulled it to her ear. "Talk to me, Dumont."

Liz turned back to look at the man in question as Nez nodded and confirmed with Dumont. He was gone. She had only let her attention wander for a moment and he'd vanished.

"Good. Keep eyes on him," Nez said. "I'll confirm and let you know. Just don't lose him."

"Dumont's got him?" Liz asked.

"Yeah." Nez's gaze flickered to Tom. "I know Reddington's convinced that this will work, but there's no guarantee that they won't be more worried about shutting him up than bartering. They took him. As far as they know, he may know exactly who is responsible."

"He doesn't," Liz murmured, "which makes it more dangerous."

Nez made a small sound of acknowledgement and looked over Liz's shoulder. Liz turned in time to see Matias Solomon approaching, his gaze focused on Nez. "Dumont has him a couple blocks away. Let you know if he tries anything."

"Mattie?" He paused for just a beat and Nez gave him the smallest of smiles. "Watch yourself."

"Absolutely," he chuckled and winked at her before starting off.

Liz shook her head and Nez grinned. "You don't get to talk. You married that one." She nodded at Tom. "Twice."

"What'd you do twice?" Tom asked, finally breaking away from the hoard at least for a second.

"Married you," Nez answered lightly.

Liz's husband grinned. He stepped closer and his arm snaked around her back, careful of her still-battered ribs. "You don't have to make that sound like a bad thing," he chuckled and kissed the side of her head. To anyone still snapping photos it just looked like a sweet moment between husband and wife.

"We're tracking a possible Cabal member," Liz said as she leaned into him.

"In the crowd?"

"Yeah. He didn't make a move, but-"

"Not too close," Tom warned and Nez shrugged.

"Solomon's on him."

Liz felt him nod. "I guess it's a waiting game now."

"Not for you," Nez said cheekily. "You just volunteered to run a multi billion dollar corporation. C'mon. There's a car waiting and everything."

Liz smirked at the look Tom shot his partner for that. It softened as he turned back to her. "I love you."

The words were weighted, like he knew things could go wrong at any instant and didn't dare risk letting a chance to tell her pass him by. She reached for him as he turned, fingers latching onto the material of his coat. She pulled him in and he met her readily, his gloved hand immediately moving to the side of her face as they kissed. For just a moment everything else faded away and they were the only two in the world.

Finally they broke and Liz reached a hand up to the side of his face, holding onto his chin and his gaze at the same time, her voice catching in her throat. She couldn't face losing him again.

Tom leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "You remember what I told you when Kirk had Agnes? You're going to have us both."

"That a promise?"

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah."

Liz managed a smile. "Okay. Go. Before Nez drags you."

Her husband flashed a grin and stole one more kiss before turning to the waiting car.

The Cabal had had a man at the press conference, which hadn't been a surprise for any of them. Halcyon had set Matias Solomon on him and Raymond had his own people follow up to a point. The Cabal member lost his tail at somewhere along the way, and it was anyone's best guess where he'd gotten to. To Conrad Davis, they hoped, but realistically it could be days before they heard anything.

Katarina hated the waiting pattern. It was a necessary evil in their line of business, but the not knowing made her antsy. She assumed that's why she found herself in the Bronx. In Riverdale. Scottie and Howard had played their part in returning home after the press conference and Tom had gone to Halcyon. She paused halfway to reaching for her lock picks and stopped, opting to knock instead.

She stood waiting for several long moments. It was hard to tell in a house as large as this one if anyone was actually moving inside and she had about decided to go for the picks again when she heard a squeal from the other side and a shout that followed. Katarina blinked at the door as it was tugged open with all the effort that a three and a half year old had in her. Agnes Keen beamed. "Hi!"

"Agnes, sweetie, what did I tell you about the door?" Scottie shouted after her and rounded into sight. "Kat."

"It's Kat," Agnes said and she almost sounded like she knew that before Scottie had said her name.

Scottie's expression shifted,serious and focused. "Have they made contact?"

"Not yet." Katarina motioned and Scottie nodded, inviting her in without a word. She could feel the other woman's dark eyes on her.

"Did you see Daddy on TV?" Agnes asked her.

"I did."

Agnes just smiled and Scottie leaned down. "Why don't you go see what Grandpa is up to?" The little girl nodded enthusiastically and slipped off, leaving Katarina to watch her until she turned the corner. "What are you here for, Kat?"

Blue eyes shifted focus and there was something clawing at her that she couldn't quite place. This had always been so much easier at a distance. Now she was so close. She was in deep. Masha, Raymond, even Agnes.

"Katarina?"

"I don't think they'll take the deal."

"Red seemed certain they would."

"Davis will. Davis would, but he's not in charge." Scottie shot her a questioning look, but Katarina waved it off. "They need more, but I don't think Raymond will give it to them."

"He knows what's at stake. This is our last shot. If we fail it's over."

"For all of us," Katarina murmured, gaze drifting back to where Agnes had last been seen. At best, the little girl would have to grow up like Masha did: stored away and protected from the evils after her parents. At worst she'd grow up as her father did. Katarina could stop that though. "I don't think Raymond will let me go again."

"Even if it puts Masha's life in danger? Agnes'?"

"He'll convince himself he can protect them."

"He's proven he can't," Scottie said darkly and Katarina wondered briefly if she blamed Raymond for what happened to Christopher. She supposed Scottie might see it that way.

"I'll handle it," Katarina said after a moment, the decision made.

"How?"

"I'm going to sweeten the deal. I'm going to give them me."

Notes: The writing process is a funny thing. Originally I'd thought Red would offer Kat up, but as the story progressed it just wasn't fitting in anywhere. Then I realised it shouldn't be Red and that Katarina needed to be the one to make that call.

We're edging closer to the end. Only a few more chapters to go!

Next Time: The Cabal finally makes their decision, but there's one more condition.

Chapter Text

The call came in over a week after the announcement was made publicly. It was late and Reddington had settled in for he had thought might be a quiet night. The Task Force was on a case, Elizabeth was consulting on it, and he had heard that the board had kept Tom busy enough. It was, he thought a little sadly, something that could work nicely into the future if not for the looming and constant threat of the Cabal hanging over them. He had always found a way to persevere, but Elizabeth was firm. When this was done, it was done. He didn't dare try to sway her.

Dembe appeared in the doorway, a phone in hand. "It is Director Davis," he said simply and Red pulled himself off the sofa he had found himself thinking on, reaching for the phone.

"You sure took your time with the decision. I hope you're calling with good news."

"It wasn't a small decision, Reddington," Davis answered from the other side. "And it never would have gone through without the second offer."

Reddington blinked, confused for a moment, but he didn't dare show it. "Then we have an arrangement?"

"We do. Christopher Hargrave will hand over Halcyon Aegis - the technology, the personnel, the data that they have collected over the years, everything - and Katarina Rostova will come in out of the cold."

There it was. That second piece that Kat had conveniently failed to mention to him. She was giving herself up and giving herself over to them. She had known Reddington had been against the idea, but now there was no turning back. Much like with Christopher Hargrave, the certain knowledge painted a much more dangerous picture for everyone involved.

"Providing everything checks out."

That halted his train of thought. "Exactly what have you been doing this past week if not your due diligence, Conrad?"

"There's only one more piece, and it requires Christopher himself. We need to be certain that he doesn't remember anything."

Reddington snorted. "Even if he did, what does it matter?"

"I have a lot at stake here, Raymond. Personally. His connections, that young agent that you've been toying with for years - you had to have known we'd find that connection - stacks some very dangerous odds. As long as you're right and he doesn't remember his kidnapping the deal's set."

Interesting. Perhaps Davis had been more hands on in young Christopher Hargrave's abduction than even Red had thought. If the terrified child had seen his face and could connect it to the director of the FBI, that would put everything at risk. It would put Davis at risk. "Understandable," he said at last. "His family's safety is his priority, I can assure you of that. He'll submit to the evaluation."

"Good. I'll have my people arrange it and be in touch."

The call ended and Reddington sat there for a long moment, his gaze fixed ahead. Dembe was watching him, but if the displeasure was really there or Red was just projecting his own emotions on anyone near him was a toss up. "Are they in DC or New York."

"Elizabeth was taking Halcyon's jet to New York tonight."

Reddington tossed the phone down, watching it skid over the coffee table in front of him. "Davis wants insurance that Tom doesn't remember."

"What does that entail?"

He pulled in a deep breath, the words riding out as he exhaled. "It could be anything from a psychologist to a memory specialist. They'll be careful with it so they don't spoil him. Katarina offered herself as part of the deal."

Dembe's expression tightened. "You believe they will take it."

"I do." He stood. "I need to get a few things together, but call Elizabeth. Let her know we're coming."

"It's late, Raymond."

He looked at the clock, frowning. "In the morning then."

"Does Tom truly not remember?

Reddington snorted, blue eyes swiveling to meet brown. "That is what I've been told. We'll see about that."

He was getting into the swing of things and there was something about it that was surprisingly natural. He had always done well playing the part of the rich young executive when he had worked for St Regis - a role that Bud had assigned him to more than once - and now that he really was filling the shoes there was a piece of him that felt more at home than he had ever expected. It was almost a shame that it was, in the end, more or less an act to get them to their end goal of taking down the Cabal. Tom couldn't imagine that they'd want him on in any capacity when this was over, even if the full story came out.

That was a worry for another day, though, or at the very least another moment. Right then the Keens were stealing a few precious moments amidst all the chaos. For the last week they had been running in opposite directions with him in New York and Liz down in DC helping her team on a case that had popped up, but she had taken the jet in late the night before and he found himself wrapped up in the sheets with her, the morning light already filtering in through the window. A few moments of peace went a long way.

Tom's eyes blinked slowly open as he felt her fingers on his skin, tracing their way under the sheets and up his ribs so that it sent a chill through him. His lips tilted up and he reached over, pulling her closer to him. She echoed his smile and her arm rested against his side, fingers still lightly touching his bare back as she let her eyes slide open and he found himself caught in the awe that she was there with him. It still struck him how damn lucky he was to have her. That she'd chosen to love him after everything. He'd never had any choice but to love her, and he wouldn't change that for the world.

"Morning," his wife whispered.

"Morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Always better when you're here," he murmured and nestled in just a little closer. He was almost asleep again when he heard her loose a breath.

"We should get our own place here."

It took a moment for him to be sure that he was processing those words correctly. "Here in New York?"

She laughed at him. "I think that's where we are, right?"

"No telling," he murmured, amusement lining his voice and he moved a little. "It's not like we're staying here long term."

"Why not?"

The question caught him by surprise and he blinked his eyes open again. "Huh?"

"Why not?" she repeated.

"Because our lives are in DC. Your team is in-"

"You and I both know there's no team without Reddington," she said softly. "Your parents are here. Halcyon's here. We can sell the apartment in DC, I can transfer to a field office here, and we can start over."

He stared at her for a long moment, the argument about the board's impending reaction to the plan they were pulling off dying in his throat. Her team was the only thing that kept her tethered to DC, and if she didn't have them then she wanted to wipe the slate clean. He had always been a runner, but there was something about the homes that they made together that kept him there. Part of him balked at the idea of selling that little apartment that they'd bought together when they had made the decision to stay. They had so many good memories there, but if he knew his wife - and he did - she was focused on the bad ones. She'd done it in their townhome after Zamani's attack too. If he were honest, he was half surprised to find her there when he'd gotten home this time. If it hadn't been the crime scene that she was investigating he didn't think she would have been.

A soft sound escaped him and he leaned in, stealing a quick kiss. "One step at a time, babe. Let's get through this and then we'll see what happens to the Task Force, okay?"

Her phone started buzzing on the bedside table before she could answer and Liz gave a loud groan as she rolled away from him to grab for it. "Hey Dembe," she greeted.

Tom watched her lazily from his place on the bed, finally rolling back onto his back and stretching out his stiff muscles, listening for any sign of good news. They had been in a waiting pattern for longer than any of them had really expected now. His neck cracked loudly as he rolled it and Liz nudged him hard with her foot beneath the sheets. He flashed her a grin that had her rolling her eyes at him. "Right. We'll see you in a bit," she told Dembe and hung up, kicking him a little harder this time.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Being a distraction."

His grin only broadened and he rolled, leaning over her. "I can be very distracting," he promised and Liz met his gaze.

"Reddington's on his way to New York."

"It's at least an hour flight. Probably another half hour to drive out here."

She lifted an eyebrow. "How are you suggesting we spend our time?"

Tom leaned down and he could feel her smile as he kissed her, her hands on him and as his kisses started traveling down her neck he felt her arms go around him, pulling him down and just a little closer.

The door to their bedroom opened without warning and a small voice accompanied it. "Daddy, I want breakfast."

Tom rolled instantly, the movement a little hurried and clumsy, and he was just grateful that he leaned the right way and didn't send himself toppling off the side of the bed.

"Agnes, honey, what are you doing up?" Liz managed.

Their daughter gave them a strange look, her head tilting just a little to the side like she was trying to figure out if she'd done something she should have. Both parents sank a little deeper under the covers and Tom cleared his throat. "We'll be out in just a sec, kiddo. Why don't you go pick out something to wear and I can make you some pancakes."

She shook her head. "Waffles."

"Okay," he chuckled. "Waffles it is."

Agnes turned to start out and left the door open in her wake. It took several long moments before Tom loosed a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "We have got to teach her about knocking."

Liz laughed at him and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "She's a good kid."

"The best."

"But yeah. Mom and Dad could use some privacy."

Tom gave her a lopsided grin at the suggestive tone and he quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Liz rolled her eyes and pressed one more kiss to his cheek. "Yeah, but not now. She'll be back if we don't get up."

"Right," he grumbled and slipped out from under the covers to grab for his clothes.

The morning had taken a distinct turn south when Reddington had shown up. At least he'd given a little warning this time. Howard had thought Scottie was going to take his head off the last time he had shown up and all but invited himself to breakfast. It was a power play. It always had been, but the key was not showing if it affected you. Howard knew that from all the years he had known the man, but even so he found his own temper dangerously close to boiling over.

He left his cane behind and limped his way slowly outside, determined to get there on his own power. He found Reddington stretched on the lawn furniture out back like he owned the place. Dembe lifted an eyebrow at Howard and the older man drew himself up to his full height, a good couple inches taller than Red's ward-turned-bodyguard. "Give is a minute, won't you, Dembe?"

Dembe glanced over to Reddington who looked entirely unimpressed as he puffed on a cigar that he must have taken from Howard's collection. "You want a scotch to go with that?" Howard asked with a quirked eyebrow as Dembe stepped away.

"I didn't think you'd mind. They are a bit stale."

"Scottie and I didn't come back here often until recently," Howard answered as he frowned at the snow-dusted chair opposite of his old friend. Reddington had made sure to choose the seat protected from the weather further under the awning.

Reddington hummed. "I'd expect Scottie to play at the idea that you could just pick up where you left off… with the two of you, with your son, but you? I thought you had more sense, Howard."

Howard snorted. "You done?"

"Hmm?"

"With your game. Twist the kids around all you want, I've known you too long for it to work on me."

"I wish it were a game, for your sake rather than mine." He laid his head back against the rest of the chair and a long puff of smoke escaped his lips. "All of this will be over soon enough and when reality comes crashing down you should be ready for it. People like us don't get get to go home, no matter how hard we fight. No matter how hard you play at it, he's never going to be the boy you lost again."

Howard watched his old friend for a long moment, wondering if he had gotten into his scotch afterall. "I have to wonder why your contact would be so nervous about Tom remembering or not. Even if he did, it could easily be a driving factor in his decision. They have to know about Agnes."

Reddington made a small sound of acknowledgement.

"Which makes me think the reason hits a little closer to home. Someone that had a personal role in his kidnapping." He waited a moment, but there was no further reaction. "Red, we've known each other too long. Been friends too long, despite everything. You owe me the respect, at the very least, to tell me if you've known who took my son all this time. If you knew how we could get him back."

There was another long stretch and finally Reddington loosed a breath, the words riding out. "No, I didn't." Howard snorted and Red finally looked at him. "I didn't, Howard. In recent years I've come across information that's made me suspect, but nothing concrete until I met with him last week."

"Who is he?" Howard demanded.

"You know I can't tell you that. It'll put everything in jeopardy, Howard."

"And what do you think this man's going to do when he gets Tom alone?"

"As long as your son does his job, allow him access for this deal. This is a necessary step, Howard. I'm aware of the risks."

Howard squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. Sometimes they needed to put them in a little danger to save their lives. The closer they got to the end, though, the harder it was becoming. No matter what Red said about people like them, his time with Tom and his family had made Howard want it more.

"When it's over I want his name," Howard said firmly after a long moment.

"You can do whatever you'd like with him," Red agreed and put his cigar out. He stood, adjusting his hat and his gaze swept out over the snowy yard.

Howard frowned. "She's not gone yet."

"Hmm?"

"Liz. That's what has you all..." He motioned vaguely at him. Red stared for a long moment and Howard pulled in a deep breath just release it. "After Scottie went to prison, Tom pushed me away. I didn't know why then, but he suspected I hadn't always been honest with him." Reddington snorted a chuckle. "My point is that when the truth came out, in the end, it's been better. I never would have thought it would."

"At some point the luck runs out."

"Maybe. Doesn't change the fact that if you love her like you claim, it's worth the risk." With that he turned and started back in the house.

"We have to play it like they're gonna take you straight in," Dumont said as he worked at a set of tiny screws to put Tom's watch back together. "I've got a recording device and here-" he popped a surprisingly well disguised thumb drive out of the links of the wristband- "is what you need to give us access to their computers if they do take you in."

"They're going to be looking for anything giving off a signal," Liz pointed out.

"Yeah, but they won't be able to detect this one. I've modified his watch so that the signal his readouts are giving masks the recording device. We'll be able to hear what's going on in real time, but it's gonna look like it's just sending his vitals through. I've also got a backup drive on the off chance they do take your watch. Fits in the heel of your boot." Dumont grinned at her. "Don't worry. We've got his back."

"Always do," Tom answered as he rolled his sleeve back down from where Dr Gramble was taking his blood pressure.

She huffed a sigh. "Everything checks out."

He flashed one of his more charming smiles. "So I'm good to go?"

"Relatively speaking," she answered reluctantly.

Liz stood, drawing her husband's gaze over and she tried for a smile. "Give us a sec?" he asked and Dumont fit the last piece in and handed it over.

"Check it out and let me know if you've got any questions."

Tom nodded and both Dumont and Gramble slipped out, leaving the Keens alone in the room. Liz swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and Tom fastened the watch securely against his left wrist as he stepped towards her. His eyes met hers and she leaned in, her arms going around his middle and he pulled her in without hesitation. She felt his fingers move through her hair in a soothing motion and she pressed her ear against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

She heard him pull in a breath. "You trust me?"

"You know I do." She tightened her hold just a little. "Listen, I don't know what they have planned to test you, but if someone took your memories like they did mine-"

"I'll be okay," he promised and kissed the side of her head. "Because I have you and Agnes to come home to. I'll always come home."

Liz nodded. "I trust you. It's them I don't trust."

He chuckled at that and pulled back enough to kiss her. "Good thing I have you to watch my back, isn't it?"

She shook her head, a small laugh escaping and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They were close and if this went well it would be over soon and she had to trust in his promise that they would be together in the end.

They had been waiting for half an hour and Tom was starting to wonder if they had been stood up. Or set up. No one would know it by looking at him though. He made sure of that. He leaned against the towncar he and Reddington had arrive in and the older man checked his watch.

"How well do you know this guy?"

Reddington turned, Tom's question the first spoken words between them in nearly as long as they had been waiting. "Well enough."

"You trust him?"

The Concierge Of Crime snorted. "I trust in his greed. It's a constant, as are so many of our greatest flaws."

It would have been nice to think that Red was having a moment of self awareness, though Tom knew a jab from the older man when he heard it. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "People can change."

"But they don't."

"No, you don't."

Reddington turned, looking like he was ready to snap, but Tom motioned. "Your friends are here."

A black SUV was driving towards them, their brights flipped on and blinding them. Tom shielded his eyes and straightened from where he had been leaning. This was it. The moment that they had been working towards.

The engine died before the lights did and they were left squinting as the Cabal members stepped out and circled around. Tom had to resist the urge to go for the gun that he wasn't carrying. He felt exposed where he stood.

"Conrad," Reddington greeted, approaching one of the men.

"Raymond," the man answered back and his gaze slid past him, locking with Tom's. "And this must be Christopher Hargrave all grown up. I hear you'd like to make a deal. We have a few questions first."

Notes: Poor Tom and Liz. They just want a little privacy. Is that too much to ask? :P

I hate to do this, especially as Tom, Red, and Kat are walking into the lion's den, but I don't think there will be another update until next Saturday. I've been a little overwhelmed lately and it's making it difficult to get these chapters finished and to my beta in time to let her check them over and get them back. Between work stress, writing this, putting together the preview gifs for this story, writing on a fic for the exchange this year, and doing a lot of work on my pilot project (I've started in on the actual script!) I've been drowning a bit lately. So, I'm hoping for quality over quantity. We're at the end and I'm trying to tie all my loose ends together and get them where they need to be. The next chapter should be ready by next Saturday (or maybe even Friday, since I'm leaving out on vacation at the break of dawn Saturday).

Next Time: The plan falls into motion and the Cabal takes the bait.

Chapter Text

"How many times are they going to ask him the same question?" Nez groused from her place on the opposite side of the van.

Liz resisted the urge to groan. The evening had turned into an exercise in waiting. First when they hadn't shown and now as the psychiatrist that they had brought with them hammered away at her husband's story. They weren't getting anywhere with it and Tom was surprisingly calm considering his usual disdain for anyone trying to get inside his head. His voice was smooth and his heart rate steady. He was in his element and sometimes it still startled her how good of an operative her husband really was.

"They're looking for discrepancies," she answered Nez's likely rhetorical question and clicked into an open channel. "You see anything, Samar?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," her teammate answered from her position at the ready should things go wrong quickly. "They have some people scattered around for protection."

"So do we," Ressler chimed in.

"Could we keep the lines clear of chitchat?" Solomon grumbled from the roof opposite of the building Tom was in. "Who has eyes on Keen and Reddington?"

Nez grinned. "Look at you. Worried?"

"Just doing my job. The man is technically my boss now and we all know how he attracts trouble."

"I've got a clear line," Samar acknowledged.

"And we're still getting a readout from his watch," Liz added, checking the numbers again. They were steady.

Aram grinned, covering the microphone of his headset. "That's some real James Bond type stuff. You think Dumont would mind if I took a look at one of his prototypes after this is all over?"

Nez shrugged. "You two nerds would have a field day with it. Get Howard involved and it'd be a party."

"We have movement," Samar's voice cut in and Aram reached over to the controls, turning the mic up on Tom's watch. The recording was being sent both to their location and Halcyon's secures computers where Dumont was working through it on his end, running voice diagnostics and trying to get an idea who they were dealing with. It was slow going to clean up into something useful with the way that their voices bounced off of the concrete floor of the warehouse, but he had been confident that he'd manage it.

"Son of a bitch," Ressler managed and Liz straightened.

"What?"

"The ringleader? The one that Reddington called Conrad when he walked up? He just moved into view. That's Conrad Davis."

Liz stared at the panel in front of her, her mild reeling to catch up.

"The Director of the FBI?" Aram managed, his voice sounding very small against the realization.

Ressler loosed a long breath on the other end of the comm. "So the Director of Clandestine Services and Director of the FBI were both in the Cabal."

Solomon was suspiciously quiet, but before Liz could comment she heard Tom's voice. "So are we good or would you like to sit around for another five hours wasting everyone's time?"

"I think we're good," Conrad Davis answered. "Do you have a way to contact your mother-in-law?"

There was a beat of silence and Liz felt her chest tighten a little.

"Yeah," Tom confirmed.

"Have her meet us at this address. From there we'll transport you both to speak with the heads of our organization to work out a deal."

There was shuffling and Liz leaned in, trying to hear.

"My family coming out of this alive and whole and safe is the only outcome I'm here for," Tom said dangerously.

"I can't imagine the Hargraves will be too happy you're selling their company out."

"I'll handle my parents. Before we go a step further I want to make it clear: you get Halcyon in exchange for leaving my family alone. You don't touch Scottie and Howard, you leave Liz the hell alone. You won't come anywhere near our daughter. Ever."

"Anything else?"

"Whatever deal you strike with with Katarina Rostova is between you, but she's family. She's protected."

Liz blinked hard. They hadn't discussed that stipulation and it was a risk. She wasn't sure what he had read in the room, but it was one he must have felt was worth taking.

"Make the call, Mr Keen. Your family's safe as long as you deliver on your end."

"We don't have eyes on the address, but if the tracker's still active we can tail Keen," Solomon offered over the comm.

"It's active," Aram confirmed.

"Let's give them some distance," Nez said and Liz pulled a deep breath in. There wasn't going to be any time to regroup. The call was being made and Tom, Katarina, and Reddington would soon be on route to the Cabal.

Tom and Reddington had been shuffled into an SUV with bags over their heads thick enough to obstruct their view. Even Tom lost track of how many turns they had taken after a few minutes, and when they came to a stop and he had heard the sound of the door opposite him opening. He had reached for the bag when no one directed anything his way, but the movement was instantly met with a biting Leave it. He thought he heard the name Rostova before they lurched back into motion.

They had left his watch in place after a careful scan, their readouts confirming that the signal wasn't a GPS, but medical readouts. No one had asked why and Tom hadn't offered an explanation. So far things were running relatively smooth. He'd passed their tests and Reddington had kept Davis on track. Tom hated working with the man these days, but there was a reason that Reddington was a legend in his own right. There had been a day that Tom - long before he had become Tom Keen either in name or reality - had idolized the Concierge of Crime. Any operative that had half a chance to work for him would have made it in his line of work. He had, and it had changed his life in a way no one could have predicted. He supposed in a way he had him to thank, but that didn't make him any less infuriating.

Reddington had started in on some elaborate story that had begun with him being blindfolded and taken to some location in the Australian Outback. Tom had lost track of it somewhere along the way and by the time they stopped he was ready to shut Red up himself. The door opened and he was pulled roughly out of the back seat.

"I hope you'll excuse the precautions we've taken, but just because you don't have your usual muscle with you, Raymond, doesn't make the three of you any less dangerous," Davis stated and Tom expected to see some form of a guard as the bag over his head was yanked off.

Instead he found his eyes adjusting to focus on Ian Garvey. The bastard smirked at him. "Hi, Tom. How's the missus?"

Reddington shifted just a little where he had come around the car and was standing to his left. It was everything Tom could do not to deck Garvey. "You son of a bitch," he growled dangerously.

"You wanna break the deal apart, go ahead. Take a swing at me. You'll be dead before I hit the floor."

"You tried that once. Didn't stick."

Garvey motioned around them to the guard's with semi automatic weapons. "I've been making myself useful since you forced me to go to ground. I'd say they trust me a little more than you."

"He's one of ours," Davis warned, and Katarina stepped forward.

"Tom, if you fulfill your side of the bargain he'll never go near Elizabeth or Agnes again. Remember what we're here for."

Tom didn't budge, the tension only building as his dangerous glare remained locked on Garvey. "When this is over, you're going to live by this deal too. You're not coming anywhere near my family."

"That's the deal that I've heard," Garvey answered and Tom finally nodded, brushing past him. Garvey caught him by the coat sleeve before he could fully pass by and dragged him in close so only Tom could hear him. "I'll be watching you, Keen. No clever moves like when you stole the bones."

"Get your hand off me or I'll break it."

There was a pause, long enough for Tom to consider actually reaching up to twist the hand far enough to force the other man to release him, but eventually Garvey relented. He could feel the fabric released and Tom took the smallest step back, still holding is glare steady.

"We're on a schedule," Davis reminded them and Reddington motioned for Tom to follow. It took a moment, but he did shift to move.

They were shuffled into a large elevator that moved down rather than up, sending them plummeting into basement levels of the building. "Did you hold up your end of the deal with Jennifer?"

Tom blinked, Garvey's question almost too quiet to hear. "Yeah. She's safe." He glanced over towards Reddington to see him speaking with Davis as the elevator continued to drop. "We didn't have any reason to hold her and she wanted to go. We've had eyes on her though. She's safe."

Garvey nodded, a strange sort of look in his eyes. It bordered on worry for the woman in question. In all his years deep in the muck Tom had never come across a complete monster. Everyone had someone in their life that they cared for, even if it was a twisted sort of affection. Even if it wasn't enough in the end. Garvey hadn't asked about his own family and their well-being once as far as he knew, but Jennifer Reddington was where his focus reverted back to. It reminded Tom of someone.

The elevator stopped and Davis stepped forward as the doors opened. Reddington followed, Katarina after him, and Tom took a step into the well lit room to see what could have easily been a board room at Halcyon. A woman in a business suit smiled and welcomed them, directing them forward to meet with the new director.

"We've lost signal."

Scottie turned from where she had been speaking lowly with Howard in the war room dedicated to the Grey Matters division, and he started over to the computers. "Lost it how?" she demanded and Dumont's fingers were already flying across the keys. "Do we have eyes in the field?"

"We had visual on them through their stop to pick up Katarina," Liz's voice came in over the comm, "But we had to pull back."

"We know the building, but there's no way to get eyes in until Tom gets to the computers," Nez added.

"They're out of range," Howard confirmed, those clever blue eyes scanning the data.

"They had to go deep underground to lose our tracker," Dumont murmured.

"And they'd know that. They're being careful."

"But that leaves us without eyes or ears," Scottie said with a frown.

"Just until Tom gets one of those drives inserted," Dumont promised. "Soon as he does, the program'll start eating away at their security and we'll have our in. Every piece of evidence we need to lock 'em all away for good."

Scottie's thin lips tilted downward a little. That wouldn't be enough for some, but one step at a time. First they had to get them, then they could deal with the ones that couldn't be allowed to see the light of day again.

"He'll be okay, Scottie."

She turned, finding Howard's eyes on her now. She tried for a smile.

"I know."

"Nez? You think you and Solomon might be able to get close or even into the building?" Dumont asked.

"Whatcha thinking?"

"I'm thinking I might be able to get a better layout from the inside if you guys could get the scanner in."

There was a long pause on the other end and it was Liz's voice that rang through. "We'll take a look and see what our options are."

"What's going on here?"

Scottie turned, startled by the voice. Leo Madden stood just inside the war room, eyes fixed on the computer screens and operation that was obviously in full swing. "Leo…."

"Leave of absence my ass. What the hell are you two playing at?"

"Something above your pay grade," Howard answered, his voice low and a little dangerous.

Leo didn't seem to take the hint, but instead moved further in, his gaze sweeping over the screens. Intel was posted there with photos of those that they knew were involved from the audio they had received from Tom's watch. Conrad Davis - the man that Howard now believed to be ultimately responsible for Tom's abduction as a child - and Ian Garvey were accompanied by several question marks to represent heat signatures that they had seen but that they didn't have enough intel on to identify yet. On the other side of the screen were photos of Reddington, Katarina, and Tom, their son's photo accompanied by the last readouts his watch had provided on his vitals.

"That's the Director of the FBI," Leo managed.

"Yes it is."

"And the US Marshal that's been in the wind. The one that you said tried to kill…" Scottie saw things falling in place for him and he was gaping now. "This is a black ops case."

"Filed under Grey Matters."

"If you were working it, why the theatrics?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Because they needed to believe that Tom had the power to give them exactly what they wanted."

"The Cabal," Leo managed, taking a heavy seat. "You're going after the Cabal."

"We are," Scottie confirmed. "I'm sure you can appreciate the…. delicacy of the situation."

"If you pull this off-"

"Sit down and let us work, Leo," Howard instructed.

"I don't want to get in the way."

"Then don't, but you're not leaving. Not now. We've kept this under wraps for a reason."

The lawyer nodded slowly, sinking into a chair and Scottie glanced over to Dumont who was already locking the door. No one else would come in or out without their full knowledge until this was over, no matter their clearance. Until they were out and safe, they were essentially in lockdown.

Most of these people were high end government officials of some kind or another, even if Tom didn't necessarily recognize all of them. Katarina had mentioned under her breath that Davis was the current Director of the FBI. The man connected to his own disappearance as a child headed up his wife's organization. Sometimes the web seemed too twisted to all be coincidence.

He didn't recognize the current head of the Cabal, but she recognized him. There was a turn of her lips when he stepped through the door and her grey gaze swept him up and down.

Reddington stepped forward. "Patricia," he greeted and that gaze swiveled to him.

"Raymond. You know, I told Laurel a couple years ago that you'd make yourself useful. It took a while longer than I expected, but here you are."

"Here we are," he countered cheerfully.

"And Laurel is not. How times change. And some things stay exactly the same. What's your secret, Kat? You don't look like you've aged."

Katarina smirked. "Staying away from this place."

The woman - Patricia - chuckled, waving it off. "It's always been such a boys club here. Alan and Peter and then a whole line of them the last few years. Laurel effectively took power, but she never took it all the way. We're doing things a little differently these days." Her gaze flickered between the three of them, finally landing on Tom. "You don't remember me, do you?"

He tilted his head, holding her gaze. "Should I?"

Her smile was calculated. "You were young. Fifteen? Maybe sixteen? McCready already knew he'd struck gold with you though. You could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. I wonder if he really knew what he had in you."

He didn't dare budge as she looked him up and down. "You worked with Bud."

"Through the CIA. It looks like the rumours about your split with him were true." She looked back to Reddington. "I'll take it from here, Raymond."

"That's not how I do business, Patricia. You know that. I'll see the transaction through." There was something in his voice that said something was going wrong. This wasn't part of the meticulously laid out plan. Reddington hadn't seen this coming, or if he had, he certainly was playing the part of surprise well enough to fool Tom.

"I'm not under any delusions that you're here for our benefit. You're here for the girl. The same reason these two are here. She and her daughter will be safe, just as we promised. Katarina has quite a bit of intel to deliver back to us from her years out in the cold and Mr Hargrave - Phelps? Keen? What do you prefer? - and I have a lengthy conversation ahead of us about overestimating one's importance."

"I'm just here to deliver my part of the deal," Tom said steadily.

"No you're not. You're as arrogant as your parents. It makes you a good operative, most of the time. You don't know your limits so you blow past them. Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don't. Your luck's run out."

"Patricia-" Katarina started, stepping forward, but the new Director had a gun trained on her instantly.

"Not another step, Kat. You are a living legend and I'd hate to put a bullet through your head."

The gunshot sounded, but it took a moment for Tom to realize that it had come from behind him. There had been movement, he thought, but he couldn't be sure. He turned to find Reddington standing with a very small snub nose revolver in his hand and when he turned back he saw the Director laid out against her desk, her own gun limp in her hand and a perfect bullet hole in her forehead between her eyes.

"Raymond," Katarina hissed and he motioned.

"Tom, move quickly. We won't have much time."

Tom didn't have time to argue, they both knew that, and he rounded the desk. This was an office she kept, and while the computer wasn't visible, it'd be stored away here. He started rifling through drawers.

"What were you thinking?" Katarina demanded as she plucked the gun from the dead woman's limp fingers. "They'll have heard."

"Hence the reason we need to move quickly."

"Don't guess you smuggled any others in?" Tom asked while he looked.

"I barely got this past them. I wouldn't have if I hadn't been taught the trick by the most intriguing gentleman I met once in Vienna…."

Katarina loosed a frustrated growl, but Tom grinned where he was crouched. "Got it!"

The door came crashing open. It felt like minutes had passed, but in reality it had only been seconds, and Reddington turned to fire a shot. This one didn't kill his attacker, but Katarina got ahold of him and threw him forward, slamming his head against the wall hard. She followed up, slamming him again and again until he dropped to the floor and she broke his neck. Apparently she wasn't actually interested in the gun she'd taken.

"A bit of pent up aggression?" Reddington asked.

"I blame you." She snagged the dead guard's side arm and shot past him. "Tom, how long?" she demanded as she slid the extra firearm over to him across the desk.

Tom had the laptop firing up and he worked the jump drive from his watch. "Almost there."

"Almost isn't good enough," his mother-in-law snapped and another shot went off.

"Cover me and I'll get the job done," he answered automatically and fit the drive into place. The computer flashed, reading the information. It took a moment, but then he saw the telltale signs that they were in.

All at once Dumont's face appeared in a new window that popped up in the right hand corner. "Tom-Tom. You made it. Never had any doubt."

"Uh-huh. Listen, we're under fire. Would it be better to just take the laptop and-"

"No, I need to make sure it's got what we need."

He could hear the other man working furiously over the feed and pop up windows appeared all across the screen as he searched. "Look fast. We're running out of time." He popped his head up over the desk he'd been using for cover and grabbed for the waiting weapon on it. He snagged it, dropping back down. "Please tell me you have good news."

"You sound like you're in a firefight."

"That's because we are. Talk to me."

"Okay, you're not gonna like it. The computer you got did have access to the data we need, but it's been wiped. Looks like it automatically uploads to a separate computer on the hour and wipes this drive clean."

"Can you recover it?"

"It'd take too long, but I should be able to guide you in to get to the backup files. Aaaand here we go." There was a flash and suddenly a map appeared. It looked like the layout to the place they were in and there was a path marked. "At the end are the servers. Get to those, you've got it. Easy peasy."

"Right," Tom breathed.

"You take one drive, I'll take the other," Katarina said and Tom looked up over the desk, setting the computer on it.

"There's gonna be a lot between us and it."

"Then we should move," Reddington said firmly.

They were going to kill them either way. At least if they went for the servers one of them might actually make it and get the information out so the entire op didn't go up in smoke.

Notes: Anybody else want to deck Garvey? Because I want to deck Garvey.

I think I'm going to move updates to Fridays from here on out. That'll give me the time I need to work on the chapters and I was planning on doing that for the follow up anyway, so I might as well just do that now.

Next Time: Liz and the others try to infiltrate the Cabal stronghold while Tom, Red, and Katarina race to finish the op.

Chapter Text

She was fuming. Raymond had always been a calculated man, even when neck-deep in an emotionally compromising situation. He set the board so that he could work three steps ahead of everyone else to the goal, be it for an operation or personal gain. Either way the approach was the same. It was methodical and she had rarely seen him fail in it, but as it stood late that night Katarina couldn't see any of his usual thought in killing Patricia Morris while they had been trapped in an underground bunker, far from their goal, and with enemies all around and backup so far away. Apparently the Cabal's Director had miscalculated as well. She had banked on Raymond's self preservation as opposed to Katarina who had trusted in his ability to get the job done without letting his emotions get the better of him. They had both been wrong. Katarina just hoped it didn't cost them the op.

Masha's husband was already in motion, taking one of the two jump drives that Halcyon's tech analyst had given him. Katarina had the other and she had Raymond. For the first time in decades the name struck her. He had lived under it for so long now, even if the young, ginger-blond Navy Intelligence officer had often been known by his few friends as Red rather than Raymond in the days in which they had first met. Well, when he wasn't undercover. When he wasn't playing a part. The part. The name hadn't mattered to her as much. He could be Red or Raymond or Tim for all Katarina had cared. Names were just a collection of syllables strung together so that a person knew they were being called.

"I'll take an alternate route and -"

His voice jerked her out of her thoughts abruptly and she turned a fiery look on him. "You jeopardised everything."

"I made a judgement call."

"No, you responded emotionally. You put everything at risk. You've spent so long pretending to be him that you're starting to act like him."

He stopped and turned toward her. There was a long moment in which he just stared. It was like she'd taken a physical swing at him, the blow knocking the breath from his chest. All at once he recovered. "You were the one that threw the plan off by offering yourself up."

"They weren't going to take the deal. You saw the level of distrust they had for-"

"So you took it on yourself."

"You never would have made that call again, Raymond."

"So you did it for me."

Katarina blinked at him. There was hurt in his eyes just behind the mask of anger, and something more than that. Betrayal, maybe? She glanced down the hall. They didn't have long and bringing the man they'd both tried so hard to bury up again wasn't helping to calm the situation. Carefully she reached up, her palm against the side of his face, and his expression eased a little as he leaned into it. She steadied herself for a rare truth, the only thing that might ease the situation. "I did it to protect Masha. I did it to protect you."

"Katarina-"

"If I could have, I would have chosen you. I would have chosen you above all the others, above the KGB, above the Cabal. Above everyone but her."

"I would never ask you to choose anyone above her."

She managed a smile and tipped up on her toes, stealing a kiss from the only man she was sure that she had ever loved. "I know. We have to finish this for her. No matter the cost."

He caught her before she could sink back down to her heels, and Raymond pulled her in. Their world was exploding around them and shots could start flying again at any moment, but it was easy to forget that for just a breath with him. she felt his hands in the side of her face, his lips against hers, and selfishly she didn't want to let him go. Maybe this was what he felt all those years ago. "Go," she managed breathlessly. "For Masha. Elizabeth."

He nodded and she saw that old determination in his eyes. It had always brought him through and she hoped that maybe it would get them through this. There was no point in harping on an op gone sideways. They had to take them down or, even if they died here, Masha and Agnes would never be safe.

They still weren't sure who or what had given them away, but it sounded like all hell had broken loose in the basement levels that Tom, Mr Reddington, and Katarina had been taken to. Not that they could tell from the outside. There was only the bare minimum of movement on the ground level, though that would likely change very quickly. Dumont was working hard on his end with Howard Hargrave to use the Artax Network to provide the team infiltrating with as much information as possible. They had backup incoming, medical teams on standby, but they didn't know if they had time to wait. The consensus had been not to risk it, and Aram was struggling to pull together what he could from the van and play it by ear in their backup.

"I'm going to ask a stupid question," Nez Rowan warned and she was looking at Agent Keen. "Are you medically cleared to go in with us?"

Aram watched Liz as she looked like she was suppressing a grimace, fitting her vest into place. "I'm good to go."

"Not what she asked, Keen," Ressler offered from his place where he had been coordinating with Agent Cooper over the phone. Cooper had joined the Hargraves at Halcyon sometime in the last hour, and while they were, theoretically, running point on this, the team in the field had the final say on if they felt it was time to breach or not. That decision hadn't taken long when Tom had made limited contact.

"You gonna stop me from going in?" Agent Keen asked with a quirked eyebrow and her partner smiled slowly, raising his hands.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He turned back to the headset he was wearing. "Yes sir, I'm here."

Nez snorted. "I don't know which one of you are worse for this."

"Tom. Tom's definitely worse about pushing limits," Liz offered and Nez snorted a laugh.

"He's also not here to defend himself," Samar said from her place where she was checking her ammunition.

The mobile unit was bigger than the ones they typically used, but they were still in close quarters, leaving Aram with a small sigh of relief when a knock came at the door, revealing Dembe on the other side. Liz moved, Nez and Ressler following, and that left the van suddenly quiet. Aram turned towards Samar. "Hey."

"Hello," she answered back and he saw the curl of her lips upward even if she didn't look over to him.

"I think I should go in with you."

Samar stopped at that, her dark gaze flickering over to meet his. "We need someone here."

"We've got someone here. Well, not exactly here, but Dumont's getting Halcyon's Network in place and he'll have eyes and ears and I can do you more good-"

"He isn't you," Samar said lowly, and she looked past him through the large van. "Nothing against them. Tom's team is talented and…. more reliable than I might have thought, but -" she paused, making sure she had his gaze locked with hers - "you are the one we trust. You know how our team moves, how we think. I've seen you anticipate things that we didn't even know we would need. Dumont's good, but he knows his team. He'll have Rowan and Solomon's backs. I want you at mine."

Aram sat there for a moment, his brain refusing to come up with the right words. When she had started he thought she didn't want him at her back in the field. That she didn't trust him there, but it was just the opposite. He was the one she trusted, and he found himself nodding slowly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She smiled and leaned in. If she had meant for a quick kiss he didn't let her pull away as quickly. Instead Aram reached up and Samar sank into it. "I know," she murmured as they broke.

Ressler cleared his throat awkwardly. "We're ready."

Samar nodded and Aram watched her go. They'd be safe, because he had them from in there. He reached over to the comms, his monitors already showing the feeds Dumont sent over. It was time to end this.

Alarms had started screaming along the way, limiting the amount of surprise they might have still had. Tom moved through the halls as quietly as possible, taking guards out one by one. His hands still shook, but bit by bit he was able to take the guards out.

He picked up spare mags where he could, and an extra gun when it became evident that they weren't all carrying a standard issue. The path wasn't clear, but as he moved through it became easier. They weren't all going to be in his path. Some of them would split off towards Katarina and Reddington.

He rounded the corner, coming face to face with a guard. Tom ducked down, avoiding the surprise swipe at his face, and as he popped back up he fired at point blank range, downing the man. Just past him was the door to the server room and he took off towards it, not interested in waiting around for someone to follow the sound of the gunshot.

It was surprisingly quiet in the room after the door swung shut behind him. He stopped for just a moment, the sound of machines whirling around him and his own breathing - a bit more laboured than usual after fighting his way through the Cabal members - filling the room. His dark blue eyes scanned the servers and he pulled the drive out and moved towards the main computer, slipping it into place. It kicked on, just as the laptop had, and they had it.

Dumont's face flickered into existence on the screen and he looked like a kid in Christmas. "Now that's what I'm talk' about!"

"We're not home free yet. How long do you need?"

"Workin' on it, Tom-Tom. It'll take some time, but you've got backup on its way. Long as you can hold that room I should have full access to their feeds, their logs, everything. We're gonna burn 'em to the ground."

"Good," Tom murmured and glanced around, a server stack blocking his view of the door. He hadn't heard anything, but something felt off.

"Everything okay over there?"

"Yeah. Golden," Tom answered, his voice even, but he pulled his gun up to move around the server stack slowly. He kept his footsteps silent as he moved, barely even breathing at this point, and his focus was absolute. Every instinct in him screamed that he wasn't alone in there.

They weren't wrong.

The shot went off, clipping Tom's right arm and he grunted as his fingers automatically released his own weapon. Ian Garvey was in close, though, and he pivoted around, a well-placed kick sending the other man's gun flying from his hands. Garvey smirked, flexing the hand that had taken the brunt of the blow. "I told you not to try anything, Keen."

Tom set his feet, ready for the fight he knew was coming. Garvey didn't shy back from violence, that had been clear enough, and Tom knew exactly what he was capable of. He wasn't tied to a chair or beaten to a pulp this time though.

Garvey lashed out first and Tom bobbed out of the way, ducking down and throwing a well placed punch that would have sent most people stumbling back. Garvey kept his footing though and swung back, the blow heavy and Tom grimaced as he used an arm to deflect it. He was faster, and he used it, dodging in and around and catching Garvey hard in his already-broken nose and then land another blow hard against the side of his head. Garvey stumbled off to the side, hand up to his face and dazed.

Tom reached out, not willing to give him even a moment to catch his bearings, but Garvey slammed an elbow hard into his side. Tom choked, the breath driven out and muscles that had never really been the same since his injuries protested the sudden jolt. He stumbled to the side and barely got his arms up to block the blow meant for his face. Garvey shoved hard, though, slamming him back, and he felt his head bounce against the wall hard and he saw stars.

He blinked hard, desperately trying to clear his vision. The only thing keeping him on his feet was the wall behind him and he saw Garvey stoop for his fallen gun. Tom shook his head, regretting it instantly, and when he managed to pry his eyes open again Garvey was already there. "You said you wanted a fair fight, Keen. You're not walking away from this one."

Hands closed down around his throat and Tom struggled against them, kicking and fighting even as they squeezed, cutting off his air.

"Dumont was able to get schematics from the new Cabal director's laptop, so I can guide you through," Aram's voice filtered in over the comms. "We should have access to the controls so that we can get you into the lower levels soon."

"So they got into the new director's office without a problem?" Liz verified, checking her weapon one last time. She and Ressler were covering Samar's entrance through the front door while Nez and Solomon entered through the back. Their backup had just arrived, both Halcyon and trusted FBI tactical teams. They would have a lot to answer for when this was all said and done, but Cooper had always been good at smoothing the ruffled feathers. He'd handle the nervous politicians as long as they delivered up the Cabal on their end.

"Well, they got in. Dumont said something about a shootout? Not sure."

Liz blinked hard and Ressler caught her attention. "He'll be fine, Liz. Our focus needs to be here."

Her mind spun, best and worst case scenarios mixing together, but she had promised him. She had promised that she would trust him, and with that came handling her side. She couldn't help him if she was too preoccupied to breach the building and help protect her team.

"Ready?" Samar asked and both Liz and Ressler nodded.

Liz reached up to her earpiece. "Nez, you guys good to go?"

"Why yes we are," Solomon answered cheekily from the other end of the line. Liz rolled her eyes.

Ressler signaled back to the FBI agents going in with them and they moved in. External security on the building had thinned out in the last few minutes and they could only assume that there were alarms going off below. There was still resistance though and Liz found herself pinned behind a pillar. She grimaced as she spun around, returning fire. She clipped the man closest to her and the second shot took him down. She glanced over to her partners to see Samar and Ressler in similar situations.

"Aram, I have eyes on our elevator down. Does Dumont have access to get us there yet?"

"Working on it," came the clipped reply from Halcyon's tech expert. "Got it. You get there, Liz, and I can get you down to the basement levels."

Liz glanced over to her team and found Ressler looming back. "I've got you," he promised and she nodded before darting for the elevator doors.

The plan had not gone smoothly. The easy answer was to try to put the blame on Katarina, but it didn't belong there. She had simply readjusted for the situation at hand. The Cabal had never intended to let Tom walk. They had never trusted him enough. There had been an alternative option that would have allowed Tom to go through with the exchange. While Elizabeth's husband had never wanted to provide the intel that would have given the Cabal access to his parents' company he did have access to it and could have gone through with his own promise to them. It might have bought time if there had been anyone else at the head of the organization or if the circumstances had been just a little different. They weren't, though, and even if he had gone through with it and handed over the company they might have simply put a bullet in his head to make sure they finished the job Garvey had failed at. There had been something in Patricia's eyes - something only decades of experience could have taught him - and Reddington had made an adjustment of his own.

Now the alarms were sounding, they'd been fighting for their lives, and he rounded the corner fully ready to take a shot and finding no one there.

While guards from above had come below as the alarms went off, they'd thinned out since. It would have been nice to think that the three of them were just that good, and while they didn't lack talent they were still only human. No, the paths were opening up because the Cabal was scurrying. They had yet another director dead and, if Red knew the people that were working on this operation, the FBI and Halcyon were breaching the building upstairs, likely with Elizabeth in the middle of it all.

The thought wasn't one he could risk dwelling on. In the last six years she'd proven herself to be every bit the agent that her lineage would have indicated. She was talented and driven, not just by her own compass but by a will that couldn't be matched when it came to protecting those she cared about. He had watched over her, protected her so long, that sometimes it was difficult to remember that the bright-eyed little girl that had stolen his heart was a woman fully capable of protecting herself. Through everything she had proven she was a survivor and that she would do what was necessary to protect her family. A family he knew he had no claim to, no matter how much he wanted to. Elizabeth would be alright. No matter how difficult, he had to believe in the fact that she would be alright.

A shot pinged off the wall, far too close for comfort. Reddington spun and fired off two shots in concession. The first struck, but there was a telltale click of an empty chamber for the second. He cursed lowly to himself as he moved to check the fallen Cabal guard. No ammunition and his own weapon was too light. They had exchanged their last rounds at each other.

A shout from beyond the door drew his attention and Reddington recognized one of the voices. Tom had made it to the swerves room, but it didn't sound like he was alone.

Red pushed through the door, the situation clear and in progress as he rounded a server stack. Ian Garvey had Tom Keen pinned against the wall, his hand latched around the other man's neck, and a gun pressed to his temple in case he somehow squirmed free. Whatever had happened before Red's arrival had not gone in Tom's favour and he could see the way the fight was leaving him. He didn't have long and there'd be no getting free on his own. Not in time. Garvey was set on finishing what he'd failed to do over a year before, and Lizzie would lose him again.

There hadn't been that sense of relief that he might have expected a year and half ago when Cooper had delivered the news that Tom Keen hadn't made it. While Reddington would have preferred to have killed the younger man himself more than once, Elizabeth continued to choose him. Again and again she'd chosen him, despite everything that had happened. She loved him, and that love had nearly killed her when she woke the find him gone for nearly a year before she'd even known it. Red could still picture her curled up on the cold, hard ground next to his tombstone after falling asleep out there, eyes puffed from crying and fingers grasping at the blades of grass already covering the ground. She was strong and she was a survivor, but Tom's death had broken her in a way that Reddington hadn't known how to fix. He couldn't have fixed. Now, though, he had a choice.

"Garvey!" Reddington shouted, leveling his empty gun.

Ian Garvey turned, swinging his weapon around and the shot went off.

Notes: Pretty sure I heard my beta's scream halfway around the world when she finished this chapter. I do love my cliffhangers.

I'd love to know your thoughts on this! There are two chapters left before the end. I finished the first draft of the final chapter yesterday, so we're in the last bit from here on out.

Next Time: The team fights to save Red and Liz finally finds out who Reddington is to her.

Chapter Text

Garvey slammed him hard and Tom felt the cool steel if the gun pressed against his temple as Garvey's other hand closed against his throat. He choked and struggled. Garvey might shoot him, but if he didn't break free he was going to crush his windpipe. Neither was an option he wanted to take.

He could feel his own movements growing sluggish the longer his air was cut off and dark spots danced across his vision before his eyes slipped closed. He could see Liz. Beautiful, strong, amazing Liz. He'd told her that he'd come home to her. He'd told their daughter the same thing. He'd worked so hard not to lie to her in recent years and that was one promise she was holding him to and it was the one that he couldn't make good on. He wanted to, more than anything, but he could feel himself slipping. He couldn't fight, couldn't even get one hand around to where his spare handgun was tucked into the back of his slacks. He couldn't even tell them goodbye.

"Garvey!"

The name sounded like it was being shouted down a long tunnel, but Garvey released him almost immediately. Tom sagged against the wall, his lungs struggling to pull much needed air in, and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized the gun was no longer pressed against his head. He choked, the warning refusing to even make it from his throat. Reddington wasn't shooting, but Garvey was. The sound echoed through the server room and Tom's instincts kicked in where his oxygen deprived mind was having trouble piecing things together. He reached for his own weapon and aimed, his hand surprisingly steady. Garvey turned back to him as he pulled the trigger, the bullet tearing from the gun and striking him between the eyes just above his dark rimmed glasses. He crumbled, dead before he hit the ground. Funny how that worked out.

Tom reached up to his throat, coughing against the pain that would linger. He was starting to get his bearings again, dark blue eyes blinking hard to refocus and his gaze shifted over to where he assumed Reddington would be standing. Instead he saw the other man laid out of the floor of the server room. "Shit," he breathed and darted forward, sliding to the floor next to him.

The bullet had hit him in the chest, blood already leaking through the tailored suit and Tom leaned forward to press his palms against it to try to staunch the flow. Reddington jolted at the pressure, eyes snapping open and his back arched. "Easy," Tom warned. "Easy."

Reddington gave a struggling cough and groaned. "Garvey?"

"Dead."

"Certain?"

"Bullet to the head certain."

A thready chuckle escaped the older man. "Sounds like you… got your aim back."

Tom snorted a mirthless laugh. "You lost yours. How the hell did you miss?"

Reddington sighed and squeezed his eyes closed against the pain. "Out of ammunition."

He stopped, halfway through tugging his jacket off to use it to slow the bleeding, and shook his head. He would have thought that Reddington of all people would have known the weight of a loaded gun versus an unloaded one.

It didn't matter now. He finished pulling his jacket from his shoulders and pressed it down, receiving a gasp of pain for his efforts and Reddington looked like he was coming around just a little bit more. "Hold it there. I'm going to try to get some help."

Tom didn't wait for a verbal response. As soon as Red reached a less-than-graceful hand up to put pressure on the suit jacket the younger man stood and started for the main computer. Dumont didn't show on the screen like he had earlier, but they were still connected. He could tell that much by the steady flow of data. He tapped at the keys, pulling up the command to reestablish the video link, and Dumont looked irritated as he popped on. "Only one of me. I can't be everywhere at once."

"We need a medical team. What's the status outside?"

That seemed to get the inventor's attention. "What happened? You hurt?"

Tom followed his gaze to where the sleeve of his shirt was torn and blood had dried it to his skin. "Reddington's down," he clarified. "Bullet to the chest. What's the ETA on getting someone here?"

"On their way," Dumont promised.

Tom nodded and straightened. That was the only answer that would give Reddington a fighting chance. Despite the lingering animosity that he shared with the man, Liz deserved her choice. She couldn't make that choice if he was dead.

He was far too still when Tom rounded the corner again and the dark haired man set his jaw, preparing himself. His gaze swept the space and it didn't look like they had any new visitors. He sank to one knee next to Reddington and saw pale blue eyes struggle open. "I told you to keep pressure," Tom said firmly and moved the other man's hand so that it covered the jacket.

Reddington didn't fight him, and Tom found his eyes fluttering closed again. "Hey," he snapped, "open your eyes. Help's on the way. You don't get to die until you've told her what you swore you would. You don't get off that easy."

"It's never been easy," he answered heavily. He blinked, his unsteady gaze moving back to Tom. "You've never been… good enough for her."

Tom resisted the urge to snort. The man was dying and he still wanted to take a swipe at him. Typical Reddington. Instead, he shook his head. "You think I don't know that?"

"You didn't see her."

His brows drew together in question.

"Elizabeth. When you were gone. When she thought you were dead." Reddington sighed, the breath ending in a ragged cough. "You've never been good enough for her, but… she needs you."

There was something between the actual words that he was saying and Tom blinked hard. "Reddington, did you know the mag was empty?"

A soft sound escaped him, but the Concierge of Crime didn't confirm or deny it, at least not verbally. Tom felt the sinking revelation and he swallowed hard, pressing down against the wound. "Just hold on. Dumont's got people coming. You just have to hold on that long."

He didn't receive a response and he glanced towards the door. Wherever that med team was, they needed to hurry.

Elizabeth Keen grunted as she slammed into the far side of the elevator, the speed at which had had to take the open space as her partner covered her too much to stop. She turned on instinct, hearing someone behind her, and barely avoided shooting Dembe who had followed her. From where, she wasn't sure, but he turned and slammed his palm against the button to close the door.

"Dumont!" Liz shouted into the earpiece.

"Gotcha," the Halcyon's technician answered and the elevator jolted into motion.

Liz looked over to Dembe and he offered her the barest of smiles. "I thought you might need someone at your back."

She echoed the expression, though both smiles faded as they hit the basement level. Liz pulled a breath in a breath. They hadn't won at the ground level, but they were close with both Halcyon and FBI forces. The Cabal might have been prepared for something, but not this. Still, they didn't have a good feel for what was happening on the lower levels.

The doors opened, emptying them into a quiet hallway. Liz and Dembe left the lift with guns drawn and at the ready, but all they saw were the blaring lights from the alarms sounding and a few fallen guards along the way. She had to wonder if Tom, Reddington, and Katarina had done this or if they had had help somehow.

Movement caught their attention and they both turned, finding a gun drawn on them as well. Katarina Rostova lowered her weapon as her daughter did the same, Dembe taking just a half a beat longer.

"Masha," Katarina breathed and Liz was a little surprised as her mother pulled her into a hug. She returned it hesitantly.

"Where are Tom and Reddington?"

"The server room, I hope."

"One of them had to gain access for Dumont to have control of the elevator," Dembe pointed out.

"Most of the guards left were called up," Katarina said. "I was on my way back around to the server room when I heard the lift."

Liz nodded, reaching up to the comm on her ear. "Dumont, do you have an update on Tom and Reddington?"

"Tom was in the server room last I heard," Dumont acknowledged. "Sounded like he wasn't the only one though."

"Was Reddington with him?" Liz pressed. She hoped that's what the quirky man meant. The alternative was someone from the Cabal.

"Don't think so." There was a pause and she could hear him working. "He's beepin' in."

"Let me know. We'll get to the server room." She heard the connection click and looked to her mother. "Tom is in the server room. Can you get us there?"

Katarina nodded without a word and motioned.

Dembe caught Liz's gaze. "And Raymond?"

"I'm sure he's fine," she murmured, doing her best not to let the bitterness that had so overwhelmed hers and Reddington's relationship colour the words. "He always lands on his feet."

The halls were mostly clear and they moved quickly. They were nearly at the room when Liz realized that she hadn't heard back from Dumont and the knot that she had tried to ignore only grew. She had no idea what was on the other side of the door.

"Liz?" Aram's voice crackled through. "Agent Keen are you at the server room yet?"

"Almost."

"I lost Dumont, but can you tell Tom that the EMT's just got clearance from Agent Ressler? They're on their way."

Liz halted a step, drawing both Dembe and Katarina's attention. "Tom's… What happened?" she demanded, darting forward, hearing her name called behind her.

"What?" Aram asked, sounding confused.

Liz slammed into the door, gun drawn and ready, and she rounded the corner.

"Oh! No no, it's not for Tom. He's okay, I think. It's, uh, for Mr Reddington."

Aram's halted explanation came through as Liz stopped, gaze fixed on Tom bent over a very still Raymond Reddington, his coat pressed down against him and soaked in blood. It felt like everything around her had jolted to a stop and all she could see were the two men in front of her.

Tom looked back and she saw his lips move, but she couldn't make out what he said. The servers, which had only sounded like background noise before, seemed absurdly loud now, the roar overriding anything else. Reddington was down and she couldn't tell if he was still breathing or not.

Dembe moved past her, aiming for Tom as Katarina sank down next to Red. She took over the job of keeping pressure and Liz saw her press her free hand against his forehead.

"Hey."

Liz jumped at Tom's voice. She had no idea when he had moved or if it was the first thing he had said. She turned, struggling to regain her bearings. He was covered in blood. "Is any of that yours?" she asked, her voice a little raspy.

"Not enough to worry about," he promised and reached forward. "You okay?"

"How is he?"

"Conscious. Barely."

"EMT's are on their way down according to Aram."

"Dumont said the same a few minutes ago." Her husband swallowed hard. "Liz, you should talk to him."

She didn't like that tone. It was the tone that said he knew something terrible was coming but he didn't know how to stop it. He tried for a smile and she caught his hand only to find it caked with blood.

Dembe moved back as she approached and Katarina met her gaze, holding it for just a moment as Liz sank down next to the man that she had been so certain was her father. It took a moment, but as Katarina moved back Reddington's gaze lulled over in her direction.

Liz took over holding the coat down and found one bloody hand reaching for hers. For just a moment she was taken back to a few years before when a sniper had taken him down, even if not entirely out. He had had Kate at his side then, and she had made sure that he had the medical attention he needed. Kate was gone, though, and now she just hoped the EMT's were close. She took the extended hand and held on, trying for a smile. "Help's in the way."

"So Tom's been saying," he rasped and she felt his fingers curl around hers. "Lizzie, your father-"

"Hey, stop. You'll tell me once your well."

He made a soft sound that might have been a laugh and shook his head. "Your father," he said again, his voice firmer now, "and I were close. Met in Annapolis. We… looked alike. It was useful in Naval Intelligence. Made it easy to cover each other. I spent nearly as much time as him as he did." He paused a moment, almost like he lost his train of thought before he found it again. "We fell into the connections with the Cabal together. We were close."

His eyes slipped close and Liz looked back to see Tom on Dembe's phone, his expression tense.

"Raymond, this isn't the time," Katarina said quietly and Liz saw his eyes were open again.

"Never is," he admitted softly and looked back to Liz. "Katarina was assigned…. to your father. He loved her. She loved him."

"Raymond."

"You did," he pressed, a cough taking the last word with it. "You did."

"I was assigned to your father and his partner-" Katarina motioned to Reddington - "got in the middle of it. He started with threats, but it became complicated. I got pregnant and I…. didn't know which one was your father. We were at the end of the Cold War and-"

"It was difficult for you all," Liz murmured the words Reddington had once spoken to her.

"Your father knew you weren't Constantin's," Katarina said. "He wanted me to run away with him. To take you away and to… be a family. One night we were arguing about it and it slipped. I don't know how, but we were so angry and suddenly he knew about …." She gave a mirthless little laugh.

"He took you and took the Fulcrum as insurance," Reddington said quietly. "Kat followed. I followed."

So that was it. Reddington blamed himself for all of this because he'd been one of the other men in Katarina's life. The one that wanted Liz to be his. It was all she could do to keep from bombarding the injured man with questions when she knew that he shouldn't be speaking at all. Still, she'd waited so long for this, and he didn't seem inclined to stop now. "That's when I shot him? When the fire broke out?"

Reddington closed his eyes and Katarina loosed a breath. "A fight broke out when I wanted to take you away. You were protecting your me from a man you… barely knew."

"You told me he was a bad man," Liz murmured, flashes of memories creeping in. She could smell the smoke, feel the burn that the hot gun had left again her wrist. The brief but clear glimpse of eyes she had come to know so well looking at her as she held onto the injury, terrified as the room fell down around her, and he told her she was brave. She hadn't questioned it. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the shouts again. The yelling. She could almost see the man that had been her father, but where as the memory of the man she knew as Reddington seemed so clear, instilling in her all the emotions that had swept through the overwhelmed four-year-old, she couldn't dredge up any feelings whatsoever for the vague face belonging to a man that had taken her from the Summer Palace and had whisked her away. She'd known the face when she had gone with him, she thought, but not him. Not really. He had told her to call him Daddy, but it had just been a name. People in her mother's world had shed names like clothes, even if little Masha hadn't understood that in full yet.

The door opened behind them, snapping Liz out of the memory and she looked back. Tom and Dembe were directing the medics in. She tried for a smile. "You're going to be alright."

Reddington squeezed her hand as much as he could. "I've always loved you," he said quietly, the words riding out on pain-filled breaths and she found her vision blurred a little. "And for what it's worth now, I never wanted to cause you pain."

"I know." She gripped his hand in hers and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and she could feel tears slipping out as she squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn't find the words. It hurt in every way she hadn't expected.

"Liz," Tom called softly from behind and she realized she was still in the medics' way. She stood slowly and watched the EMT's move in to try to stabilize him, barely hearing Tom as he spoke. "Just got off the phone with Gramble. She's going to meet them at the hospital. Lizzie…"

She looked back at him and guilt was etched deep into his face. "It's not your fault, Tom."

"He saved my life," her husband said softly. "I think he knew he was out of bullets, but Garvey had me and…." For the first time Liz saw Garvey's lifeless body off to the side, a vacant stare aimed at the ceiling and no one was bothering with him.

The medics lifted Reddington onto the stretcher behind her and Liz reached a hand up to the side of her husband's face. "He knew I couldn't do it again," she said hoarsely. Reddington had known she couldn't mourn the man she loved all over again. She didn't have it in her.

Tom turned, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Go with him."

"Are you coming?"

"As soon as I can. This is…. I took ownership of Halcyon for the op, but until they kick me out it's my responsibility."

She nodded. "Be safe."

"You too."

She turned and Dembe motioned. "Katarina and I will meet you there."

"You should-"

"No. He will want you."

It took a moment before Liz finally accepted it, turning without another word and following the EMT's towards the ground level.

The aftermath was in full swing by the time that Scottie Hargrave and Harold Cooper arrived on scene. Scottie looked over the carnage from behind a careful mask of calm, and it had been everything she could do to convince her husband to stay at their headquarters with Leo and Dumont. The lawyer had finally settled down, years of being close to if not directly involved with covert operations in Halcyon giving him more space to breathe now that he had an answer for that perhaps not so subtle feeling that Tom had been trying to dupe him. He could be a troublesome enemy, but when he chose to be a friend Scottie had always found him useful. Tom would need people on his side moving forward in this.

"I appreciate your team providing support to mine, but I hope I can rely on you to allow us to do our jobs in processing these people," Cooper said, drawing Scottie's attention.

She offered him a charming smile. "Of course."

He didn't look altogether convinced, but accepted it, splitting ways to speak with the approaching Donald Ressler. Just in time, too, as Nez made her way towards Scottie. The younger woman motioned for more distance from the federal agents.

"Did you get him?" Scottie asked quietly.

"We did. He's officially been reported as missing, but Solomon's transferring him to a black site as we speak."

"Has he said anything?"

Nez shrugged. "A few idle threats. Went as far as to say he wanted his lawyer."

"Adorable."

"He knows who has him and that it's not going anywhere." Nez glanced back towards the front door of the building. "Our people have ten operative level Cabal members in custody and we're waiting on the feds to tell us where they want them. The Director was a woman named Patricia Morris. She's dead."

"And Garvey?"

"Also dead."

Scottie turned at the sound of her son's voice and her lips tilted downward. "Tom, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Most of this isn't mine."

"Who was the unlucky bastard?" Nez asked lightly, a smirk playing out across her face.

"Raymond Reddington."

The name cut through the night air unexpectedly and Scottie felt a chill sweep through her. "Did he make it?"

"They took him to the hospital. Liz, Dembe, and Katarina went too. I sent Gramble to meet them."

That was interesting, but not entirely unexpected. Tom and Red has a difficult past, but Elizabeth had a tendency to keep coming back to her mother's old lover. If there was one thing that Scottie had learned about her son in the last couple of years it was that he would do anything to protect his wife, and if he thought saving Reddington's life would do that on any level, his own feelings on the subject wouldn't get in the way. Scottie thought she might have let him rot if the choice had been hers.

"Why aren't you there?" Nez asked, her voice genuinely confused.

Tom nodded back to the organized chaos. "That."

"You've done enough," Scottie assured him. "Go. Liz needs you."

Her son hesitated just a moment, looking torn before he finally nodded. "Thanks. I've got that cell you gave me, Nez."

"And I've got the number if we need you."

"Wait," Scottie called out as he turned to leave. She reached out, pulling him into a tentative hug that he sank into, a soft chuckle escaping as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm going to get blood all over your dress, Mom."

Her own smile only broadened at the name and she wrapped her fingers into the material of his shirt. "I'm glad you're safe." She released him, wiping at the tears that were threatening to spill. "Now go. Let us know if we can do anything for both of you."

He nodded and she let him leave this time. He was whole and he was safe, and the man responsible for all their years apart was in custody.

"We should tell him," Nez said quietly.

"We will. Just not yet. Let's finish cleaning up this mess so that we can handle the next one."

Tom had borrowed one of Halcyon's suburbans to drive to the hospital. He had texted Liz the temporary cell number and had heard Reddington was in surgery, but nothing since then. His mind spun as he sped towards the hospital, trying to come to terms with Reddington's actions. He'd taken the bullet for him, pulling Garvey's attention so that Tom could get free. If he hadn't, the younger man had no question that Garvey would have finished him.

He turned, the tires squealing in protest against the pavement and the front left wheel caught the curb and jumped right over it. He barely threw it into park and killed the engine before piling out, aiming for the emergency room door.

The waiting room was packed, but he saw Liz and the others off to the side. Liz had her back to him and was speaking to a doctor. As Tom approached she turned. The question caught in his throat at the expression she wore and he reached out.

Any calm she had shattered as he pulled her in, folding her up in his arms and she clung hard, her fingers latched onto the front of his shirt and her entire body shook with the force of the sobs. His name fell from her lips, trembling and desperate, and Tom reached up to stroke her hair.

"He's gone. He's gone," she choked out and Tom couldn't find the words. Maybe there weren't any. All he could do was hold onto her and hope to help her keep from shattering.

Notes: Okay.... deep breath. This chapter has been a longtime coming. I remember when I jumped into this project I thought 'well at least I won't have to figure out another direction for the stupid bones again' and then they went the imposter route. I knew before the season finale with that reveal that Red was either going to die or at the very least be willing to die not just for Liz, but for her dream. I don't think anyone questions that Red would die to save Liz's life, but I really was determined to give him a redemption arc, which requires a learning curve. Red finally making good on his promise to her that her family would be safe, that she'd have that life she wanted is what got me to said arc, and I think the imposter theory just sort of sealed it in even firmer for me. I've stopped trying to guess in canon if they'll try to flip it again back and forth until NBC pulls the plug, but for me I believe that Red loves Liz in his bizarre, twisted way. I don't think he knows how to love her well or love her right, but if he's her biological father, if he just wanted to be, or whatever scenario ends up laying out, I have to hope that as twisted as this all has been that he truly has been trying to protect her and that he loves her.

I think he just needs to remember that and remember that Liz - and her hopes and her dreams  and her loves - are bigger than him. At least they are if he does, in fact, love her like they seem to have indicated before.

So..... yeah. I have a lot of raging emotions about Reddington for my pre-coffee Friday morning now.

Next Time: Howard and Scottie have to make a choice, Katarina tries to face the truth, and the Task Force, Tom, and Liz come together to remember Reddington.

This will be the epilogue, folks, but don't worry! There's a follow up to Breathe Again called Home from the War that I've already started in on. If all goes well it'll start updating the Friday after the epilogue without missing a week.

Chapter Text

The room was dark and cold, the chill the latest round of extremes that they had pushed the internal climate to. Conrad Davis sat strapped to a chair, teeth chattering, and face bloodied. They hadn't intended to leave a mark on him. It only added to the complications when they handed him over to the feds, but some complications were worth the trouble. Howard hadn't blinked an eye when Scottie had blackened Davis'.

The former CEO of Halcyon Aegis stood on the other side of the one-way window, arms crossed and studying the man. "You're sure you've gotten everything from him that you can?"

"Everything he's willing to give in the time you've given me," Solomon confirmed. "Beating on him harder won't change his answers."

"Advanced interrogation isn't reliable," Howard agreed, hearing the younger man humm in response.

"Should I give you two a moment before we get him ready for transport?"

"Yes." He broke eye contact with the glass to look over. "Mr Solomon?"

"Yes, Howard?" Solomon responded lightly.

"Nez is a grown woman and makes her own decisions, so I'll only tell you this once. You hurt her and they won't find your body. Am I clear?" The fact that it might just as well be Nez that killed him didn't need to be said. Howard would happily help bury any man that thought about hurting the woman he'd come to see as a daughter.

Solomon flashed a toothy grin. "Your son said something similar."

Howard snorted and Solomon's smile eased a little. "I have no intention of hurting Nez."

"Good."

Solomon slipped out the door, leaving Howard alone in the viewing area to stare at the man who had kidnapped his son so many years before. He had moved up in the ranks since then, both within the FBI and in the Cabal. None of that had saved him though. Not in the end. Solomon would make the call and the Marshals would send someone to pick up the fugitive that all of their paperwork said that they had apprehended just that morning. Howard didn't have long.

The door squeaked on its hinges as he entered and Davis grimaced as he straightened a little to look up. "Howard Hargrave. I wondered how long it'd take you to show. Come to finish the job?"

Howard let his lips tilt up at the corners. "I thought you had heard that I'm no longer the head of Halcyon. Tom is, and he's interested in forming a new kind of relationship with the FBI. One that is more transparent and useful to all parties involved."

Davis snorted. "You're handing me over to my own people?"

"They're not your people anymore, Conrad. You're a fugitive. Now-" he reached around for the extra chair, pulling it out and taking a seat- "here's how this plays out. We'll be delivering you into federal custody. My people will deliver you to the Marshals shortly, but that gives you and me time to chat."

"About what?"

"Anything you want to get off your conscious."

Davis met his steady gaze. "You've decimated my organization, taken me out of power, and gotten your son back. What else do you want, Hargrave?" There was a pause and Davis sat back. "I'm not going to make it to the Marshals, am I?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Your boy doesn't even know I'm here. No one does." The panic was growing. "You don't want to do this, Hargrave. You owe me."

"How do you figure that?"

"I'm the only reason your son didn't die thirty years ago."

Howard held his gaze. "Go on."

"I had him, the night that they wanted to send a message, but he fought. He managed to squirm free and took off along the beach. The tide swept in higher than before and the undertow pulled him out with it."

The mental image of Christopher, so small and vulnerable then, being dragged out and pulled under, coughing and choking against the water that was pulling him under played out across Howard's mind. His son had been thrown from one terrible situation to another to another from the moment Davis took him. "He never would have been in that situation if not for you."

"If I hadn't done it, it would have been someone else. Anyone else would have let the kid drown."

"But not you?"

"Not me."

Howard tilted his head a little, studying him. "Why can't he remember anything? What did you people do to him?"

"You want that information, I need assurances. You'll have to come see me in custody."

The blue-eyed man leaned forward. "There are two types of people in this world, Conrad. People that make themselves useful and people that don't. You know that. What I know is that you were terrified that Tom would recognize you when you showed up to the meet. That tells me there's more to your story than you'll ever want me to know. So, since the odds are stacked against you in every which way, I'd suggest you find a way to make yourself useful and fast." He didn't give Davis a chance to say anything as he scooted his chair back, the sound it made causing the other man to cringe. Howard moved towards the door.

"Wait. Frank and Eva Phelps."

Howard turned a glare on the other man. "I've already looked into them and I know everything I need to know about my son's adopted parents. You've just made my point." And then he was gone, moving through the door and out even as Davis shouted from behind. Howard let a small smile tug into place and he spotted Scottie waiting for him.

"Did you get it?"

"Some. We need to track down the Phelps'."

"We don't have to let him live, Howard."

He grimaced, risking the briefest glances back at the door that separated the howling man from them. "They might never be able to prove it, but they'd know, and that won't start Tom out on the right foot. You and I both know that." He paused, reaching a hand out to tuck a strand of dark hair back behind her ear. "That doesn't mean he has to know that. Let him think we're transporting him to his final destination."

"Solomon's made the call."

"Then let it run its course. The Marshals will take him and we'll make sure we have the evidence to put him away for good once trial takes place. Are Tom and Liz meeting us there?"

"That's the last I heard."

"Time to go then." Howard extended his arm and his wife took it.

"I haven't asked you. How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play coy. You were always fond of him."

A sad smile tugged his lips. "He was a charming bastard."

"When he wanted to be."

"Yes, when he wanted to be, and all in all, I say we owe him some gratitude."

"He didn't do it for us."

"Does that matter?"

Scottie paused and he could see her mask of indifference crack just a little out of the corner of his eye. "No, I don't suppose it does."

There was nothing more to say as they hit the end of the hallway and opened the door out into the air. A car was waiting for them to take them to the cemetery.

She remembered how it felt when Sam had died. There had been so much regret there, so many what ifs. She had sat in her living room pouring over photos and memories and desperately trying to hold on. She didn't have photos of Reddington, not really. Only memories. Those intricate stories and the way his head bobbled as he wove them together to the point he was trying to make, often with amusement laced into every word. He had loved her in his way. Maybe in the only way he knew how to love her, and while the last years had been a wild roller coaster that had left her sick and turned around more than it hadn't, she had loved him too. He wasn't her father, but he was. Blood didn't always make family. Liz's fingers moved over the brim of Reddington's fedora that sat on her breakfast table, its owner's face clear in her mind. She should give it to Dembe.

"Daddy!" Agnes shouted from her place in the floor with her colouring book and crayons. She was on her feet on an instant and Liz realized she must have heard the turn of the key in the lock. The door opened as the little girl raced forward and flung herself into Tom's arms.

"Hey, kiddo. You about ready to go?"

"Where're we goin'?" she asked and giggled as he kissed her round little cheek.

Tom's lips twitched down and he shifted her so he could carry her back into their DC apartment and the lightness left his voice. "A funeral, baby girl." His dark blue eyes flickered to meet Liz's gaze. "How're you holding up?"

"Ready to go."

Agnes started to squirm and he put her down, crossing the space over to where Liz was sitting at the kitchen table. She tried for a smile and took his hand when he reached out for hers. "That good, huh?

Liz shrugged. "I don't really know how to feel."

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and she leaned into him. He stood there, her strength when she'd used up all of her own, and she felt his arm go around her where she sat. She wouldn't give him up for anything. She couldn't, and Reddington had known that. Still, knowing it and acting on it was entirely different. He'd given up his own life not just for hers, but for her family. It left her emotions more tangled than usual.

Tom's thumb moved in a soothing motion over her bare arm and she looked up at him. "What's the board say?"

He cleared his throat and released her so that he could pull a chair out for himself. He looked exhausted. They had picked the day before for their meeting on what to do with him, leaving that morning for their final decision. Liz had tried to tell him that he didn't have to be at the funeral, but he'd seen through it. He usually did. So her husband had gotten up at three in the morning and had been at the airstrip before four and at the office in New York by five. He had expected to be back with time to spare. As it stood, they had about five minutes before they needed to start wrangling Agnes into her car seat.

"It was pretty split. Leo Madden of all people was the swing vote."

Liz grimaced and reached out for him again. "Hey, you did what you had to."

Tom blinked hard. "What? No, he was the swing vote in my favour."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"So you're still the CEO?"

Her husband offered a small smile. "On the condition that I stay out of the field." Liz tried not to look too relieved and his smile broadened, finally reaching his eyes. "Yeah, I told them my wife would love that caveat."

"Are you okay with it?"

"You know… I am." His gaze drifted to Agnes. "I want to see her grow up. I want to come home to you. It still lets me do what I'm good at, but I can only push my luck so far in the field."

Liz stood, leaning in and she surprised him with a quick kiss. A small smile tugged at her when she broke it. "I guess that means we need to start apartment hunting in New York."

"Well…" Tom tilted his head thoughtfully and she knew that look. He was up to something.

"What?"

He eased to his feet. "We're moving headquarters to DC. Part of of the deal on whole was that we would be working more closely with the FBI. One unit specifically."

"Babe, the Task Force won't stay together without Reddington."

"They just need a blacklist. Trust me. Halcyon can provide plenty of leads. It's a win-win for both sides."

Liz opened her mouth and found the words stuck in her throat.

"Cooper and I talked about it. He verified that Ressler would stick around as long as the Task Force is together. If you want to move we can, but we don't have to-"

She didn't let him finish as she wrapped her arms around his neck, all the emotions she had tried to keep a lid on bubbling over and she could feel the hot tears as she kissed him. She felt his arms circle around her waist and hold her close even as she laid her head against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'll give you the details on the way. We're gonna be late."

She nodded and released her hold on him, thumbing at the tears. It wouldn't bring Reddington back, but it could help protect her husband and her team. It would help to protect her family, and she could find comfort in that.

Katarina hadn't believed it when the doctor had come out. How could she after so many close calls and faked deaths over the years? Even when she had worked her way into the morgue she had toyed with the idea of Halcyon swapping the bodies. Tom had sent their doctor in, after all. Surely there was more to it than this. An ending. Final and cold and more painful than she would have ever predicted.

But it was him. No duplicate was that good. She knew him from the tiny scar on his ankle to the ones along his back from the night of the fire. She wanted it to be some over-the-top scheme that perhaps Raymond had brought Howard in on, but it wasn't. He was gone and there was no fixing it. No reversing it.

"I had wondered if you would come to the funeral."

The redhead turned to find Scottie Hargrave standing there. She looked her own perfect part for a funeral in her designer black dress and heels sinking into the grass beneath her. She hadn't said a word as they had lowered Raymond into the ground and while Howard had stepped forward to add a shovel of dirt over the casket she had merely remained respectful, standing back. Even Tom had stepped forward for it, though Katarina thought that, like with most things, that had been more for Masha's sake than Raymond's.

"Could I count on you to tell me if this weren't real?" she asked after a long moment.

Scottie grimaced a little. "It's real, Kat."

The former KGB Agent loosed a breath. "Kate Kaplan is buried just up that hill. This is why people like us don't love, Scottie. Eventually we're left alone. Everyone either dies or leaves or we leave them for their own safety…. little good it does them. In the end we're left alone."

"You're only alone if you choose to be," Scottie answered softly.

"Masha doesn't need me."

"She does. More than you know."

Katarina's gaze shifted to where her daughter stood to say her goodbyes. She had spoken to her, briefly, but she hadn't made any promises that she'd be there after everything was done. To her credit, Masha hadn't asked her to. She knew. Katarina thought she knew. She didn't expect her to stay.

"But she's not the only one. Dom doesn't live far."

Katarina snorted. "Keep an eye on Agnes. She'll be a handful."

"Will be?"

She smirked and turned. She had never been good at goodbyes. They were too permanent, and in her life she had always found her way back to the ones that mattered. She just needed time.

Stories filled the Coopers' living room and stretched on even as the sun started its slow descent in the sky outside. Some of the crowd that had attended Reddington's funeral had gathered in the home after, a quiet place providing them with a safe location to sit and remember. It was a relatively new tradition which had apparently begun at Tom's own wake after Liz had woken up, and there was something sereal about taking part in this one. Well, he supposed it could have just as easily been him they were talking about that afternoon.

Tom offered Charlene a thin smile as he slipped past her, taking a quick detour to the kitchen after getting a very cranky Agnes tucked in for a late nap. He listened to the voices drift in as he walked to the fridge to grab a beer. He closed the door and turned, finding Donald Ressler waiting there. "Cooper told me what you did."

The dark haired man blinked. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

Ressler snorted and shook his head. "Halcyon and the Task Force. Listen, if you think that it's going to-"

"I'm going to stop you right there. I did it for Liz. She doesn't deserve to lose her team too after all of this. You didn't come up in the deal."

He watched the ginger agent weigh the words. They weren't untrue. He had done it for Liz and Cooper had only confirmed the deal he had struck with Ressler after Tom had pitched the idea to him. In truth, the deal hadn't been struck specifically for Ressler. The fact that Tom had grown almost fond of his wife's rule-toting partner was beside the point. It was for Liz.

"I made a promise to Cooper that I wouldn't leave as long as the Task Force was together."

Tom quirked an eyebrow and popped the top off his beer, the barest of smirks tugging at his lips. "Guess you're sticking around then."

"Guess I am." Without warning Ressler swung an arm around Tom's shoulders in an almost friendly fashion before moving towards the living room. "One more person hasn't shared," he announced, and it seemed like he was being held captive more than anything else.

"You're just looking for a reason to arrest me," Tom grumbled and jabbed Ressler in the ribs only hard enough for the other man to let go.

"I think we're past that by this point," Cooper assured him from his place on the couch.

Tom snorted and moved to take a seat next to Liz, finally choosing a relatively innocent story. He found himself smiling as he spoke, traits that had driven him crazy already beginning to soften in the wake of the man's death. He cleared his throat at the end. "It's not really a secret that Reddington and I didn't get along. Neither of us trusted the other, but in the end…. I owed him my life." He felt Liz's fingers intertwine with his and he lifted his beer up. "To Reddington."

They echoed and Tom felt Liz curl a little closer to him. She had been quiet most of the afternoon and remained that way into the evening. The wake came to a reluctant close as they moved from evening towards night, and Tom was a little surprised to find himself reluctant to leave as well. Leaving meant it was real. Leaving meant that this chapter was truly over and that the man that had, despite everything, brought them all together was dead.

Tom shifted a still groggy Agnes and she draped against his shoulder as they walked out of the house. "You okay?" he ventured.

Liz didn't answer immediately, but he saw the barest twitched as she turned her thoughts over in her mind. He didn't push, but as they slipped into their vehicle, Agnes in her seat in the back, he saw her lean back against the headrest. "I will be," she finally answered. "Okay, I mean." She squeezed her eyes closed and Tom reached out, his fingers brushing hers in a silent offer of support and she took his hand. A small, pained smile pulled her lips outward. "He made good on his promise."

"What promise was that?"

Her fingers tightened around his. "That I would have the life I wanted. That my family would be safe. He made sure of it." Bright blue eyes blinked open and a couple of tears escaped as she turned to look at him. "Let's go home, babe."

Tom nodded, not trusting his own voice as he put their vehicle into gear. After everything - all the close calls, all the the pain they had struggled through to bring their family back together - they could say they had won. They hadn't done it alone and the cost had been high, but they could finally go home.

End.

Notes: The first scene of this story sat by itself for maybe a month or two before I was finally able to start in on the rest of it. I was terrified I wouldn't be able to finish it and that somewhere along the way I'd just lose all interest and leave the show for good. Thankfully, as frustrated as I've been with the show, that hasn't happened. I have a friend in a different fandom that talked about her AU fic being the only way she continued watching it, and while it may not have been the only way for me this has helped on a lot of levels. Gotta love fanafiction, right?

There is a follow up story already in the works called Home from the War. It'll start posting next week on Friday and starts in about six months later. Thank you so much for all of your kind words of encouragement along the way. I'd love to know what you thought of the story on whole. Please feel free to drop a review in the box. Short, long,  undiscernible sounds... I love it all lol

And a BIG thank you to my beta Whimsy. If you're a Saram fan, she just wrapped up a fantastic piece called Reset that I highly recommend. She's on AO3 under WhimsicalWombat.

Hope to see you guys next week for Home from the War!