AN: Here's the first chapter of my second multi-chapter fic. Set after Liz confronts Red about Sam's death in 1x20. As always, enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist. I do not own U2's "Running to Stand Still", either.

She is raging, she is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes

She stood in the hallway, inanimate, shocked.
Waiting for the walls to close in on her. Waiting for the world to shatter into pieces and bury her underneath.

It had been him all along.
He had killed her father.
Raymond Reddington was a monster.

She had driven to his hotel room, confronted him face to face. And he had admitted it, had tried to justify it. But she had been long gone, his words lost on her. Someone had yelled and someone had teared up and someone had turned around and left. It might have been her, she couldn't be sure. Maybe this was all a cruel dream and she merely had to open her eyes to escape it. Wake up. Wake up.

Every breath was torture, every step agony as she trudged towards the living room, her long coat sheltering her from the pertinacious memories that lurked like ghosts in every corner. She stopped behind the armchair, her gaze directed towards the colorful pillows on the couch. She remembered how he had sat across from her here, his right arm stretched out, his legs crossed. How relieved and happy she had been to see him after his protracted absence. And she had welcomed him into her home; they had shared a bottle of wine. The atmosphere had been friendly. And Sam's blood had been on his hands. The realization sent painful shivers down her spine.

You gotta cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice

Grief and anger make for an intricate alliance. Despite all expectation, the mixture functions much more as an anesthetic than a catalyst. In her mind Liz shattered bottles and vases, threw picture frames against the wall, knocked over chairs and tables, screamed from the top of her lungs. Burned it all to the ground. But in reality, in relentless reality, all furniture remained in place and not a single sound left her mouth.

The silence was deafening.
The numbness overwhelming.

Liz slumped against the living room wall and hugged her knees to her chest. Minutes flew by, eyes opened and closed. The nightmare continued. When she heard the door open, she didn't move an inch. And when the intruder knelt down in front of her and whispered the two syllables, she looked back at him. Her face a blank canvas devoid of all emotion.

He caressed her cheek.
Hoped for a moment.
Lizzie.

Her name on his lips was the match that finally ignited her anger. Liz leapt to her feet in a sudden movement, leaving Red startled on the floor, and took a few steps back, hands held out in front of her.

"Don't you fucking touch me, Red." She walked towards the kitchen table, desperately seeking a physical barrier to put between them. "Stay away from me and get out of my house!"

Red got up in a swift motion, straightened his coat and raised his head to look at her. His body stiffened when he met her eyes- her sad, contemptuous eyes. Every cell of his being wanted to approach her and hold her and tell her the truth. But he stood frozen, preparing himself for the sorrow still to come.

"I trusted you. I trusted you. I let you comfort me. I told you stories. Is this some sick game to you? The lies, the secrets? Seeing me hurt?" Her voice was drenched in disdain and Red let it wash over him like a tidal wave crashing upon the shore. Let it submerge him.

"I never lied to you, Lizzie. I withheld parts of the truth, yes. But I never lied to you." Nothing in his tone mirrored his inner despondency. Somehow he wished it had. "I know that you can't possibly fathom this now, but you have to believe me when I tell you I did it for you. And I did it for Sam. I have told you before that I will always do whatever I feel I have to do to keep you alive. And if Sam had been thinking clearly, he would have given me his blessing. He would have begged me to go through with it."

He watched Liz's hands clench into fists. He knew she needed him to leave. But he couldn't. This might be his last chance.

"Sam was like a brother to me. I loved him, Lizzie. Don't even think for a second this was easy for me. The moment Sam died a part of me died with him."

Something in Liz's expression changed at his final remark, though Red couldn't quite interpret it. He stepped forward and Liz flinched. And finally he understood. And he faltered.

"I'm done, Red. Whatever this is for you, whatever I am to you…It's over." Barely a whisper, but powerful all the same.

They had done this before. They had stood at the crossroads before.
The perpetual quest for definite choices.

And he remembered her answer.
Which is why the phrase leaving his mouth at that very instant was an exact replica.

„Tell me to go, Lizzie."

Tell me to go. She had heard these words before and she had remained silent back then. Had allowed him to stay. But this time anguish was engrained in every fiber, in her skin and bones, and forgiveness, understanding even, was no longer an option. A future with Raymond Reddington was no longer an option.

She stepped back, tightly grasping the kitchen table- she feared her legs would fail her at any second- and fixed her eyes on the rug beneath his feet. The words on the tip of her tongue, awaiting their release. She inhaled deeply, garnered fragments of courage. Finally, a declaration.

"Go. Please go, Red. I can't do this anymore." Her voice was trembling, her body shaking. "You killed my father. You killed the one person I loved the most. I can't look at you without seeing Sam's murderer."

Every syllable a dagger.
Thrust into his heart.
With force.

Life came to a full stop right then and there. Red stood still, stared, held his breath.

She didn't dare to look at him. But she heard him move. Heard his footsteps on the wooden floor. Walking away, slowly.

Heard the door slam shut.

And she broke down.

And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was lying still

Liz didn't know how many minutes or hours or days had passed, but she found herself on the kitchen floor, enclosed by darkness, the salty taste of tears on her lips.

Rock bottom.

Clinging tightly to the counter she pulled herself up and leaned heavily against the fridge. Her left hand fumbled for the light switch and finally found it, and she squinted her eyes when the bright ceiling lamp illuminated her surroundings. Her gaze shifted towards the blinking numbers of the microwave display and she cringed. 10.30pm. Red had left three hours ago. Her head was still spinning.

She wanted to despise him. She desperately wanted to loathe him. She wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her. Make him suffer.

But she couldn't.

The only definite truth in her life was simply this: She couldn't bring herself to hate Raymond Reddington.

And when she heard a knock on the door she allowed herself that one final moment of weakness, that final flash of hope, and she hurried down the hall.

The fact that Red had never knocked before didn't even cross her mind.

And as she turned the doorknob she spoke without fully casting a glance at the man on the other side.

"Red, I-"

"Hey babe."

She runs through the streets
With her eyes painted red

His fingers absent-mindedly traced the lining of his fedora while he watched the outside world pass by from the back seat of his black Mercedes. Lost deep in thought, frantically trying to chase away the demons haunting his mind.

Damage.
Irreparable damage.

Liz's pronouncement had left invisible scars all over his body.
Liz's broken expression had deemed every single one of his coping mechanisms invalid.

He ran a hand over the back of his head and paused when his fingers grazed the inconspicuous scar on his neck. She had done this to him. His pulse throbbing under her grasp.

The physical pain had always been bearable.
Pens were never as fatal as words.

He had allowed himself to get close to her. Too damn close. Had allowed himself to fall in love with her volatility, her intelligence, her benevolence, her sanguine eyes, her soft voice, her vulnerability. Had allowed himself to fall in love with her.

And now all he could do was leave, vanish from the face of the earth, completely disappear from her life. Because that was what she wanted and he had no right to deny her wish. Because losing the people he loved and cared about the most was his tragic destiny. The fate the universe had bestowed upon him.

He would protect and watch her from afar. Continue to keep her safe like he had always done. Out of sight.

Raymond Reddington would take a bullet for Elizabeth Keen.
Even if she was the one pulling the trigger.

Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain, maybe
Run from the darkness in the night

Somewhere across town a gun went off. Tissue shattered. And Elizabeth Keen's body fell to the floor.