Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of The Blacklist, and I am not associated with it in any way, shape, or form, other that being a loving and dedicated member of their fandom. :)

Author's Note: I promised myself no Soulmate AUs. I thought I'd never write one. And then there was this tumblr prompt, and almcvay1 and MinP were all stupid and nasty and encouraging and helpful, and then I tripped and fell on my keyboard and as I caught myself, my fingers accidentally wrote this. So there you have it.

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A Single Color

Chapter 1

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Lizzie had only told three people about the color. Ever. A boy at school, who teased her and immediately told their teacher, who in turn called Sam. Lizzie had tried to explain it to her teacher, but Mrs. Faber wouldn't listen, and called her father to discuss Lizzie's blatant lies. When Sam picked her up later that day, he took her straight home and marched her into the living room.

Which was a bad sign.

Sam only sat with her in the living room on The Good Couch when she was in trouble. When the talk they were going to have was going to be serious.

Like when he told her what her new name was, and that she could never mention anything she remembered from her old life, or her parents.

As if she remembered any of it.

"Lizzie, honey…" Uh oh. He didn't call her Butterball. Was he going to ground her? "Your teacher called me today to discuss what you told Matthew at lunch. That you can see colors." Sam didn't look angry, but he definitely didn't look happy. "Why would you say that?"

Lizzie shrugged, scowling. "Not all of them, I think. I mean…" She picked at the knobby fabric of the couch upholstery. "I don't know. I think I see one. One other than black and white."

"Colors aren't something to joke about, Lizzie," Sam said gently. "You're old enough to know about soulmates, right?"

"Ugh." Lizzie rolled her eyes and toed off her shoes, purposefully letting them fall messily where they landed, one under the low coffee table, and one farther toward the fireplace. She hoped in vain that Sam would stop this stupid grown-up (-gross-) discussion of soulmates and order her to pick them up and put them away in her room.

No such luck.

"Lizzie?"

"Yeah…." Lizzie leaned back into the cushions, caving in on herself a bit. "When you're older, like in middle school or high school you get to see colors. But only if you meet the person you're supposed to get married to."

Sam nodded. "Sort of," he agreed hesitantly. "When you go through puberty-Lizzie, don't roll your eyes at me-when you go through puberty, your body goes through a lot of changes. One of them happens in your eyes. We all start out seeing in black and white-like you do right now-like I did when I was your age. Later in life, when you meet your soulmate-the perfect person who will love you as much as they can-you start to see blues, and greens, and oranges-"

"And red?"

"Yes, and reds-"

"Like your shirt?"

Sam froze. Lizzie watched him swallow and look down at his torso, clad in a red plaid flannel. He frowned, his eyebrows pulled together over his scrunched nose. When he looked up at Lizzie, he spoke very softly. "Honey, who told you my shirt is red?"

"No-one," Lizzie said defensively.

"You're only eight years old, there's no way you can see-"

"Your favorite mug is red. The one I got you when I went shopping with Aunt June for your Christmas present."

Sam sighed. "You only know that because she told you-"

"No!" Lizzie shouted, pushing herself off the couch defiantly. "Ask me something! I'm not lying!"

"What color are your shoes?" Sam asked, looking at her blue sneakers.

"I don't know."

"My pants."

"I don't know."

"Your backpack."

"I don't know."

"That vase."

"Red." Sam was starting to look confused. Still not angry, but bordering on scared. Lizzie bit her lip and held her ground. She walked to the front window. "Mr. Maxwell's car is red. The one in the driveway right now. The Campbells next door have a flag flying on their front porch with a red lion on it. Yesterday my socks didn't match. One was red. I don't know what the other one was. The flowers by our front gate are red, and the one's in the backyard by the hose are, too." Lizzie turned back to face Sam, whose mouth hung slightly open in shock. "But the red flowers in the backyard don't smell as good as the red ones by the gate."

"Lizzie… how long have you been able to…?"

Lizzie shrugged. "Awhile."

"Since last year? Since before we went to the fair two years ago? Could you see that color...before you came to live with me?"

Lizzie looked down and scuffed her foot on the ground, pulling her sock tight across her toes. "Since the night of the fire, I think."

Sam stood up and walked over to where Lizzie stood by the window and knelt down to be closer to her height. "Lizzie-this is very important-do you remember anything about the fire? About that night?"

Lizzie shook her head. "I remember my bunny. And the smoke and I couldn't breathe. I remember my dad saving me." She paused. "I hid in the closet because I didn't understand what was happening. The fire was red and I didn't understand."

Sam placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and Lizzie looked up from the floor. "Do you remember anyone else? Anyone else in the house? Any other men? Do you remember their names?"

Lizzie searched her memory, but couldn't come up with anything. Sam looked like he wanted her to remember something specific, and she didn't want to disappoint him. He'd been so sweet since she came to live with him, and she didn't want to upset him. What if he decided he didn't want her anymore? What if the fact that she saw red meant she was broken? Defective somehow?

Lizzie's eyes welled up with tears, and her chin began to tremble. "I don't know the right answer…" she said. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to say…"

Sam gathered her into his arms as Lizzie began to cry. "Shhh… it's okay. You're okay. Don't worry, Butterball, this is all okay. This is just...something special. Something that you get to keep, like a very precious secret, all right? Like… Clark Kent and the fact that he's Superman, huh?"

"Like… I have special powers…?" Lizzie asked, her voice wavering. She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"Just like that," Sam agreed, pulling back to look at the little girl in his arms. "But you do need to keep this a secret, okay? Because other people won't understand, and just like Matthew, and Mrs. Faber at school, they're not going to believe you. It'll make things harder on you. And I know-it's not fair, but honey… Unfortunately, since you came to live with me, your life got a little bit tougher than everyone else's. It's not your fault-not one bit-but it's a good thing this happened to you and not to anyone else. It's a good thing that your life got tougher. You know why?"

Lizzie shook her head and wiped the drying tears from her cheek. "Why?"

"Because you're tough. If this had been given to someone else, I bet they wouldn't have handled it half as well as you have. And you're going to keep handling it, because I know you, and you are one tough cookie, aren't you?"

Lizzie nodded. "Yep," she said, setting her jaw.

Sam smiled. "Good. Okay. Well, then, Superman, what do you say we go get some dinner started? Hamburgers sound good tonight?"

Sam stood up and put a warm hand on Lizzie's back, guiding her toward the kitchen, but she stopped and looked up at Sam. "Can I… can I tell you, though? Since you already know about my superpower?"

Sam smiled down at Lizzie, amazed at how brave and trusting this little girl was. "Sure. I'll be the one person you can always tell. I can be… Superman's dad."

Lizzie nodded and gave a small sigh of relief. She smiled and whispered theatrically, "Superman's cape is red."

Sam laughed and nodded, pushing Lizzie toward the kitchen again. This time she allowed herself to be led without hesitation. "Yes, you're right, it is."

"And the ketchup we put on the hamburgers…?"

"That too…"

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That night, after putting Lizzie to bed, Sam picked up the phone and called the number reserved for emergencies only. The line picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Red. Um… Listen. I'm sorry to bother you, but… she said something kind of strange today...and I thought you should know about it…"

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END.

Author's Note: Don't do it. Don't ask me for more. This is it. I can't write a soulmate fic. I won't do it. If you're looking for multi-chapter soulmate AUs, go read Dream Walker. This is where it ends! :)