I know there are two other stories I haven't finished yet. But I was so disappointed by the second half of season 2 I simply had no idea how to go on.

Instead, I had the idea for this hiatus story. It developed during discussions about disappointing storylines, over and under used characters, and plot holes.

There will be 22 "episodes" (some of them divided into two parts due to their length), using elements and characters of the show to tell a different story with different pieces to a different mystery. In opposite to the show I'll tell you in the end what the mystery is about.

When scenes are unimportant to the main story or exactly like or slightly different from scenes in the show I'll summarize them. If you can't remember them, you'll have to watch them again. This will help you to get through the hiatus. ;) Some scenes are not part of the "episode" they appear in because I made 22 episodes from 44 but I needed some scenes from episodes I left out. Don't get confused with the show - it's something different that connects Red and Liz. Have fun! :)

I'm not a native speaker and writing in your second language is a challenge. Be gentle with me. :)

August, 2014, Lincoln, Nebraska

When Sam woke up, he felt tired and weak. He could almost feel that life was leaving his body. With every breath he felt weaker. It seemed as if the walls had moved in a little tighter since the last time he had looked at them. He was still in that damn hospital. He never wanted to die in a hospital. The smell made him sick, and he hated the ugly colours. Getting struck by lightning would have been better than this. But he knew he was going to die here. Soon.

Then, he noticed he had a visitor sitting on a chair next to his bed. He almost didn't recognize him. But yes, it was really Raymond Reddington. It had been 24 years since they last saw each other.

Red who had waited patiently for his old friend to wake up smiled. "Hello, Sam. It's been far too long."

Sam smiled back and felt somehow relieved. "I'm so glad you could make it in time. I hope it isn't too dangerous for you."

"You said it was urgent." Sam was one of the very few people in the world Red would do everything for. He looked at him and shook his head, worried. "You look like hell."

"And you got old," Sam replied with a cheeky smile. "You lost your hair."

"Well, I guess that's just what happens when you get older." Red laughed, and Sam joined in before he had to cough.

A moment of silence followed before Red said, "So, the cancer. It came back."

Sam sighed. "It has spread everywhere. There's nothing they can do. I need you to... end it." He looked at him insistently.

Does he know what he is asking for? Red felt uncomfortable and swallowed hard. "I... I can't do that."

"They've given me six weeks," Sam explained to him. "For what? So I can lie here and watch them take me apart? I wish they'd said six hours. I told them; You can get rid of those damn machines. Go monitor somebody who actually has vital signs." He laughed and Red joined him but it didn't make him feel any better.

"I need you to do it for me," Sam begged him.

Red preferred not to answer. They both knew he would do it. Red had never shied away from difficult decisions or jobs. He had established a cold, dark side allowing him to do terrible things without feeling any regret.

Red took Sam's hand and held it tightly, thinking of all the wonderful things they had done together in their youth. Then, he changed the subject, "You said you wanted to tell me something important about Lizzie."

Sam coughed before he answered, "It's about her husband, Tom Keen. I think he works for someone. He came out of the blue, and he's asking too many questions about Lizzie and her childhood in particular. I tell you, something's wrong with that guy."

"What do you know about him?" Red asked.

"Not more than what I've already told you: teacher, fourth grade. Seems friendly and harmless, but there's something about him..." Sam wasn't sure how to give reasons for his hunch. "I need you to find out and protect her."

"You gave her an incredible gift, Sam. Taking her in and loving her as your own... You'll always be her father. I can only..." Red's voice broke and tears got into his eyes. He paused before he added, "I promise to keep her safe. I'll make her happy. It's what she deserves."

There was another moment of silence. Red tried to think of any old story, a memory they shared, but they had exchanged hundreds of letters in the past 24 years and there was nothing they hadn't told each other yet.

"She's gonna be heartbroken if she can't say goodbye," Red said, trying to make his old friend release him from the burden to end it for him.

But Sam shook his head. "I don't want her to see me like this."

Finally, Red got up and leaned forward. With a last look in Sam's eyes he pulled the cushion from under Sam's head and pressed it onto Sam's face until his old friend wasn't moving anymore.

When Tom arrived at the hospital about an hour later, he was told that he was too late.

"Mind if I sit?"

"No, go right ahead," Tom replied automatically before he looked up. A man, in his mid 50s or early 60s, sat down at the other side of the small table. Like Tom he had a paper cup with coffee in his hands. It was a lovely sunny afternoon in the park in front of the hospital.

"Visiting someone?" Tom asked politely.

"A friend," Red replied. "He died today. You?"

"I came here to see my father-in-law. But... I didn't get here in time." Tom sighed and watched people entering and leaving the hospital or buying coffee at the food truck.

"Oh, my." Red's face looked sad. "I'm terribly sorry. It's hard not to say goodbye."

The man seemed so open-hearted and empathic that Tom didn't feel uncomfortable when he told him, "I don't know what I'm gonna say to my wife. I've been sitting here, I don't know how long, trying to figure out how to tell her. She couldn't come right away, you know? She's right in the middle of graduating from Quantico."

"So she's becoming an FBI-agent," Red understood. Of course, it wasn't new to him.

"Yes." Tom wasn't sure whether he liked it. But Liz was certain that it was what she wanted to do. "My wife and her dad, they had something... He took her in when she was about three years old. She was a foundling, you know? He adopted her and raised her as a single parent. She's gonna be heartbroken." He himself wasn't that sad. He knew that Sam had never liked him, and his death might make things easier. He felt sorry for Liz, though.

"Yes." Red nodded. "It'll undoubtedly take some time. But I'm sure she'll be fine." His voice and his eyes got colder and colder when he went on.

Now, Tom wasn't sure anymore whether the stranger was really that friendly. Has he just threatened me? Or is he just mad? "I hope you're right." He felt insecure and confused.

"I know who you are, Tom." Now Red got clear. "And whoever you work for and whatever your plans are, the day will come when you wish you had never agreed to do this job." He got up and walked away.

Tom sat at his place, puzzled, watched the stranger disappeared in the crowd. Who the hell is he?

About two weeks later

Everyone had come to Sam's house for the funeral service. Friends, family, neighbours. Sam had been a popular guy.

Liz, who was grief-stricken and had cried all morning, couldn't stand having all these people around her. She sat in the kitchen with Tom and Sam's cousin June. Sam had moved from their old home to this newer district in Lincoln a few years ago. Liz was glad about it. Otherwise, every piece of furniture, every corner would have reminded her of her childhood.

"It's so sad that he's gone," Aunt June said with a deep sigh. "Now, no one is left. I wish we know what happened to Maryann."

Liz looked up in surprise. "Who is Maryann?"

"Ah, someone you don't know," Aunt June said with a wave of her hand. "Do you want another piece of cake?"

For Liz a single piece of cake had already been too much. "No, thanks." She gazed round her. "What am I going to do with the house?"

"We could move here," Tom suggested. He had never wanted to live in Nebraska, but after the stranger had threatened him it seemed like a good idea.

Liz had loved living here when she had been a child and a teenager. Now, she had different expectations and wishes. "I just graduated from Quantico, and I'm looking forward to my job at the Washington field office."

"There is an FBI-office in Lincoln, too," Tom said.

"I don't think there's much to do," Liz countered. If I had wanted to stay in Nebraska, I could have stayed here!

"But you would have more time for the baby," Tom insisted.

"I'm sure I'll have time for the baby in D.C., too."

Aunt June pricked her ears and looked curiously at Liz. "Are you pregnant?"

"No, I'm not. We're going to adopt a child." For the first time since she had heard of her father's death, Liz smiled. "Isn't that great?"

Two days later, Washington D.C.

"I just can't believe he's gone." Liz was still sad. Returning home to D.C. from Nebraska seemed to be another step away from Sam. She huddled against Tom while they were sitting on the sofa in the living room. They had just moved to this house and everything still seemed new, not like a real home.

"It's different with you because you can trace your life up to this moment, you know? You have reliable records and..."

"You had your dad," Tom said and stroked her hair, trying to console her.

"Yeah, but I wish I knew who I really was. Where I was born, who my real parents are..." It felt to her as if she had a hole in the middle of her body, as if there was a missing piece. It drove her crazy that she couldn't remember anything, or at least, nothing in particular. No names or faces or a special event that would tie her to her past, her roots. There was only a faint memory of a fire.

"What did you bring from Lincoln?" Tom asked and looked at the box Liz had discovered in Sam's basement.

"Just a box with a few memories Sam stored for me."

Tom gave her one of his amiable smiles. "Show me."

"You really want to have a look at my old dolls?" Liz asked with a laugh.

"Why not? It's something like a record."

"Yeah." Now Liz looked sad again, but she opened the box and went through the contents. Some plush toys, dolls, drawings, books, pictures, a little box with "treasures"... She told him the story about each piece, and she thought to herself how lucky she was to have a husband who was so interested in her and her life.

Beta readers / support / bothered with questions about grammar: Ana, Umber (from AWWC), Melissa, kashi333, and theblacklister23. Many thanks to them. :)