#donald x liz

[cissyenthusiast010155]

She’s Been to Hell And Back ~S13!Alex Cabot xFem Wife!Reader(feat. Casey, Rita, Liz, Liv & Amanda)

Summary— Alex is kidnapped and tortured. That’s pretty much it. It’s a very long and indulgent fic of Alex x Reader.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: [MATURE], explicit torture, violence, kidnapping, humiliation, implied torture, angst, anxiety attacks, knife, guns, torture devices, branding, cigarette burns, burning, begging, crying, and so much more mature content, Rita being an aunt and a boss bitch, Liz losing her shit, Munch being munch, Amaro being an asshat, Casey barely keeping it together, read at your own risk!!

Enjoy (;

You stepped into the SVU squad room, looking around at the major bustling and chaos of the room. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously, biting your lips and nails as well. You were frozen. You couldn’t process it all. Your eyes then landed on a person who you knew could help.

Casey.

Casey had been the one to call you. She hadn’t told you much, only that you need to come to svu immediately. You had dropped work for this. Left straightaway. It all made you extremely anxious. Why would they need you���? Unless…

You shook the terrible thoughts coming up out of your mind, instead springing into action. You walked up to Casey in the middle of the chaos.

“Hey Case!” You called to the redhead who was swiftly fluttering through pages.

Casey jumped at her name and her eyes shot up to you. Suddenly her gaze softened and she looked at you with concern.

“Y/N’s here!!” Casey shot across the room, and everyone practically stopped in their tracks and looked at you.

You gulped and looked around anxiously, pulling your bag closer to you defensively.

“Case… what’s going on…?” You stammered.

Casey couldn’t meet your gaze. Olivia suddenly came out of the Captain’s office and walked through the squad room, followed by Cragen peeking out of his office, telling everyone to get back to work. The shuffling and bustling immediately picked back up again. The noise wasn’t helping you one bit.

You suddenly felt a hand on your back shoulder, and you jumped slightly. You turned around, relaxing a bit to see it was only Olivia with a warm and caring smile.

“Y/N, let’s go into Cragen’s office, yeah…?” The brunette gently suggested.

After you slowly nodded with parted lips of confusion, Olivia led you by her hand on your back to the Captain’s office. She opened the door for you and closed it behind the two of you. Both SVU members looked tense and concerned.

“What exactly… is going on…?” You tensed out through partially gritted teeth, frustration now hitting you in waves.

Olivia guided you to sit down with her, before she but her lip and explained,

“Y/N… Alex didn’t show up for court a couple of hours ago… We… don’t know where she is. She’s not answering her phone, we can’t track it, it’s dead.”

Your heart sunk. And there was now a limp in your throat. Your heart only raced faster and you suddenly felt dizzy.

Olivia could tell that this was a lot to take in, so she gently held you on both sides of your arms.

“That’s not all…” Cragen sighed.

You looked up at the Captain with glossy eyes and a trembling lip.

“W-what…?” You stammered, bringing your arms into your chest and holding yourself.

“We think Alex was… taken.” He explained slowly.

“W-why would you think that…??” You exclaimed, the anger in you now swelling.

Cragen and Olive exchanged looks. Cragen nodded and relented into the brunettes insistence.

“Come on, let me show you something.” Olivia softly spoke.

She led you outside to the squad room and the media corner. Next to all the screens there was a board. A board of at least 100 photographs. And they were all of Alex. Alex and all the people she interacted with. You were on there, and so was Olivia, and Casey, and Rita, and Liz, and Amanda, and so on.

The pictures were practically Alex’s entire life since she’d been with you. This was years of photos. Some of them looked like they could have been snapped by a news reporter outside the courts. But others, much more intimate pictures of the two of you, could have only been captured by active camera surveillance.

You gasped, bringing your hand to your mouth, as you let out a choked sob that you couldn’t contain anymore. Your stomache sunk. You proceeded to collapse on the floor, and were lucky that Amanda was right by you. The Southern blonde was quick to scoop you up and guide you to take a seat in her desk chair.

She then tried to talk to you, but your mind was spiraling. Suddenly a big boom of stacks of paperwork falling across the squad room brought you back to reality with a jolt.

“Y/N? Y/N, there you are, ‘hun. Hey. Heyyy. It’s going to be okay, alright…?” Amanda reassured you.

“But h-how… do you know that…?” You choked out, the tears continuing to pour out.

At that, Amari and Fin walked into the squad room.

“It’s out lucky day! Perp’s blood was at the scene, that girl put up a fight…!” Amara exclaimed, not having realized that you were there.

You immediately stood up and turned to face Amaro. Nick’s eyes went wide and his face struggled to give away the fact that he knew he had fucked up.

“What scene? What…?? What happened??” You exclaimed with a gasp, frustration and anger running through your veins once more.

Amanda pulled you towards her and into her embrace. Her touch calmed you a little, but right now, you really needed it to be Alex’s touch. After a minute, her hug actually and surprisingly helped.

“Thanks…” you muttered.

Amanda shrugged and smiled lightly, as if it was nothing.

“Learned that in Atlanta, had a partner who had anxiety attacks.” The blonde told you, “It’s a grounding thing.”

You listened and nodded along. But your mind quickly started to wander back to Alex again.

“Wait what scene? Do you know where she was taken…??” You asked.

Amanda sighed and stood up, telling you to wait here. She checked in with Cragen in his office, before coming back to you and grabbing her keys.

“Come on, let’s go for a ride.” Amanda told you, indicating for you to follow her.

You gulped and nodded, silently following the Southern blonde with your wobbly legs. You two got into her patrol car, and she began driving. The ride was silent. You had now become numb, your feelings too much to bear. You didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole of what could go wrong… So you stayed in the ignorance of feeling numb.

After about 15-20 minutes, Amanda pulled up to you and Alex’s shared brownstone. You gulped as your eyes widened as it began to click for you.

“This is…” you stammered, trying to find the words.

“Come on, Darling. I’ll explain inside.” Amanda gently reassured you, squeezing your left hand caringly, before getting out of the car.

You followed the blonde detective up the steps of your brownstone and inside. No one was here anymore. But it was a mess, all taped up with crime scene tape and marked with evidence markers and such. It made your stomache flip upside down when you saw blood on the kitchen doorway.

“What Amaro said, that asshole… was that Alex didn’t go down without a fight…” Amanda explained, taking your hand in reassurance as you walked through the torn apart apartment.

“Alex managed to make her kidnapper bleed.” Amanda breathed out.

At that you looked at the woman with wide eyes.

“So you can find out who they are?” You immediately asked.

Amanda bit her inner cheek and looked way slightly.

“Yeaaa ideally yes… but we already ran it, and he’s not in the system…” she explained.

Any and all hope that you had just gained was lost all over again. Amanda squeezed your hand again in reassurance.

“So what’s next…? What can I do?” You asked, desperate to do anything, to get her back, to see her again.

“First, we are going to walk through your place and go through the events, at least what we know. See if any of it jogs your memory of like someone who would want to harm Alex…” Amanda breathed out.

You shuttered and nodded slowly.

“Then when Olivia and Cragen give the go ahead, I’ll take you back to svu and Olivia will properly interview you…”

You gulped, yet nodded again.

“Ok, let’s do it…” you breathed out.

Amanda nodded and guided you by your hand, walking you through the scene. All your feelings came crashing back as the blonde detective walked you through the theory SVU had of what happened.

Alex hadn’t even left for the office yet, having not needed to go in as early that day… You and already left for work, when someone had come to the door. Alex must have known the person, because she let them in (or they had a gun). The main struggle was in the kitchen. SVU assumed that Alex had most likely tried to reason with whomever the perp was, but it went south in the kitchen. Alex’s blood was on the counter, in a circular mark that upheld that the assailant had violently cracked Alex’s head down upon the counter. There were also blood splatters of Alex’s going from the kitchen and out the door, by the amount and pattern of the blood, it was assumed that the assailant had shot Alex somewhere in the leg, but hadn’t hit a major artery or vein. Luckily, on the kitchen doorway, there was Alex’s bloody partial print, but there blood wasn’t hers. The theory was that before the shooter had incapacitated her, she got a swing or two in, and then when he dragged her out, she made one last attempt to grasp the doorway, leaving the perps blood.

Your heart was pounding in your ears three times as fast as earlier. Tears were pouring down your face and you hadn’t even realized it. Amanda squeezed your hand tighter, as she asked you if it sounded like someone you knew or if it triggered any memories.

“N-no… Mm sorry…” you gasped out in between sobs.

The Southern blonde now came in front of you and took both of your hands.

“Don’t be, you did so good, Y/N.” Amanda comforted you, before receiving a ding on her phone and checking her notifications.

It was Olivia telling Amanda to bring you back. You spent the car ride opposite of the last, filled with all the emotions. You were distraught, and sad, and afraid, and angry, and infuriated, and so much more. Your head was swimming, no drowning it it all. You just wanted a break. You wanted Alex safe in your arms.

Amanda led you back into the squad room, passing you off to Olivia with a reassuring smile. Olivia took you into the family interview room, one that was less jarring than the brick and mortar perp interview/confession rooms. She had you sit on the couch next to her.

“Y/N, Amanda told me that you couldn’t think of anything at the crime scene…”

“Don’t… call it that…” you sputtered, having cried yourself out in the car and now hicupping instead.

Olivia sighed, “Of course, I’m sorry— At your and Alex’s home…”

You had your hands clasped in your lap and you were rocking back and forth anxiously. The brunette detective reached for your hands with her hands and tried to physically comfort you, but you jerked in response, starting to hyperventilate. The brunette detective was quick to retract and stick with her interview questions.

“Besides what you didn’t think of at the crim— your and Alex’s place— Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you…?” Olivia prodded gently.

You shook your head and then hiccuped. Alex had her hair share of criminals who didn’t like her, but nothing she ever found concerning enough to share with you.

“Alright, what about anyone following you recently…? Notice any reoccurring faces…?” She asked.

You thought about it, going through your last months, if not years in your mind.

“I… don’t think so, no…” you stammered, with two more hiccups.

“Alright… Can I get you some water?”

“Yes please…” you whispered, not being able to handle the eye contact, so you simply shut your eyes.

Olivia muttered something with a hum, letting go of your hands, and leaving the room with the door ajar. You just sat there, with your eyes closed and shaking in your boots. You could hear the noisy clamor of the squad room from the ajar door. It was still just as chaotic, if not more. Tensions were high, and fuses were short.

Before Olivia could come back with your water, a familiar voice boomed while entering the squad room.

“Who the hell didn’t inform me about Alex going missing, and why the fuck did I need to find out like this?!”

You immediately stood up with a jolt, scrambling into the squad room to see Rita standing furiously in the middle of the room, while holding up a manila envelope with her name on it. Calhoun’s determined scowl faltered as she noticed you in the corner. She immediately lowered her mask of defense lawyer and rushed over to you.

Her hands were all of over you, checking to see if you were okay. They landed on each side of your face, as her concerned gaze looked at you.

“Hey Baby… How are you holding up…?” She asked, her eyes still scanning you up and down, before landing on your gaze when she expected an answer.

But all she got was a choked sob from you, your tears now back in full swing. The older woman immediately pulled you in for a hug, which you happily accepted. She hugged you tight and with fierce love, you could feel every fiber of her being that cared through the embrace. When Rita let you go, you wheezed and little and whipped your tears away.

Olivia had by now gotten your water and caught wind of the commotion, now coming up to you and Rita. Rita sent daggers to the brunette detective, making Olivia stop a couple feet away from you.

“What’s in the envelope…?” Olivia quipped, before extending her hand with your water in it.

Rita took the water, examined it, then gave it to you, instructing you to drink, before she considered answering Olivia. When she did, her eyes went sad. The main SVU members had surrounded the two of you, all curious as to what Rita had brought. She opened the envelope and pulled out a hard drive.

“Aha! My area of expertise…!” Munch exclaimed, taking the hard drive from Rita and going over to the media corner to open whatever files were contained within the stick.

You went to follow the rest do the team to see what was on the file, but Rita grabbed you by your arm before you could get too far. You turned back to Rita and looked at the woman who had been your mentor, aunt, mom, practically everything with confusion and glossy eyes.

“ ‘Hun, you may not want to see that…” Rita sighed with deep sadness in her eyes.

She had already seen it.

Your eyes hardened and you frowned. You quickly pulled your hand out of Rita’s grasp.

“Like hell I won’t…” you exclaimed, then turning around and walking up behind the team who were all gathered around Munch who was about to click play on a video file.

Rita came up behind you, her eyes staying on you the entire time as the video played. She watched your face whiten, watched your face wash over in horror, then a wave of anger. She watched your shock, then followed by uncontrollable sadness and tears.

Alex was in the centre of the screen, tied up and hanging by her wrists around a rusty metal bar running along the wall. Her head was hanging low. Her hair frazzled and tired. Her clothing was dirty, torn, and bloody. There was a light sway of her body as it hung from the beam. Her shoes had been discarded. The bottom half of her her stomache was on display, as her shirt was being strained from the position. Her left lower leg was bleeding, presumably from the gunshot from the struggle at the brownstone. Her forehead was all bloody from the blow to the counter.

Suddenly, a person stepped into the frame. They were wearing all black and had their face and voice masked. He had some kind of black colored weapon, almost baton looking in his hand. He laughed wickedly into the camera, before turning his attention to Alex.

“As I can’t torture all of you, unfortunately… One will have to do…” The man tilted his head as he turned on the stick and plunged it against Alex’s exposed side stomache with a cackle.

Alex’s body convulsed and jolted uncontrollably as she was she was hit with volts and volts of burning electricity. She let out a desperate groan, which turned into a silent scream as tears poured down her face, as she fought against her restraints and against the volts. After a couple solid seconds of this, the man finally retracted the insane taser torture. As he moved the torture device back, Alex’s freshly burned skin could be seen, a fresh branded circle on the side of her stomache. The man proceeded to repeat this process for multiple rounds. And the whole time, Alex fought and screamed and convulsed, as tears ran down her face and shirt. Finally, after five burning rounds, Alex passed out. And the man stopped, looking to the camera with a grin.

“No point if the bitch isn’t awake…” He chuckled wickedly, “And that was only Act 1… Dedicated to Detective Olivia Benson…”

Rage was quick to take over your enter being, all the sadness quickly forgotten. You nearly assaulted Olivia right then and there. But Rita saw this coming, and she was quick to hold you back as you attempted to pounce on the brunette detective across from you.

You scowled and fought back, the team all taking a step back from you, all of them just as shocked as you were. But Rita held you firm.

“Shhhh, Baby, it’s okay… Calm down…” Rita cooed into the shell of your ear, “It’s going to be okay, it’s not Olivia’s fault…”

After a couple seconds, Rita managed to get you to promise to not punch the older brunette detective in the face. So she let you go. You huffed and didn’t know what to do. You were hit with another wave of sudden sadness.

As you were having your life crisis, the team began speculating and conversating about what they could learn from the video and how they could find Alex. You weren’t able to focus on them or anything anymore, everything started to just fade away into black.

When you woke up, you were in Rita’s lap, back in the family interview room. For a split second, you felt at peace’s and then reality smacked you back in the face. Rita was beginning to tell you that you had passed out when you began to freak out.

“Hey, Hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe, it’s okay.” Rita comforted you, as you sat up startled and distraught.

“N-no it’s n-not… Alex my Lex she’s… she’s…” you choked out, hyperventilating.

Rita was quick to take you into her arms on the couch and comfort you. She ran her fingers through your hair, she rubbed your arms and hands and side, calming you as best as you could.

“Hey. We are going to find this sycko who did this… ok? The team is on it…” Rita insisted and ensured you, “Take some deep breaths for me, Baby…”

You nodded shakily, your entire body shaking in Rita’s arms, as you took some deep breaths. You began to doze off in the woman’s arms, Rita was quick to encourage you to not fight it. And so you dozed off…

You awoke startled once more by a shriek echoing through the squad room and into where you and Rita were. You practically fell off the couch and scrambled out to the squad. Rita was swift behind you. Your eyes fell on Casey, who now had a Manila envelope in her hand with her name on it.

“Where did you get that??” Olivia questioned the redhead.

“I… a junior officer dropped it off… I don’t know, sorry” Casey stammered, handing it off to Olivia who opened it.

“Fin, Amanda, go find that junior officer, maybe he can give us a lead on this guy.” Cragen told his team.

Fin and Amanda nodded and left the room at once. Olivia had found another hard drive, having passed it to Munch to analyze. Rita’s eyes widened as Munch went to press play, and she tried to pull you away once more, but you only pulled away from her and to the screen with more ferocity. With a click from Munch, the video began…

Alex was still in the same position. She was awake again. But barely. Drool was coming from the sides of her mouth as her head lolled down. Her breathing was heavy and labored, affecting her entire body as it hung from the rope attached to her wrists and around the beam.

The man then came back into the camera screen. He held a knife in his hand this time. After taunting the camera, he stalked up to Alex, his free hand roughly grabbing and wrenching her blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as the perp moved the torn blouse aside, showing off Alex’s black bra and exposed chest and stomache.

Alex seemed to barely register anything until the knife began slicing her chest. She let out a howl at the pain, deep enough to hurt, but not deep enough to kill. He continued these slices, along her stomache, along her clothed arms as well, and all the way up to her shoulders and neck. He seemed to only be egged on by Alex’s groans and cries, which very quickly turned into begging and pleading for him to stop. Once the man reached her neck, he held the knife firmly along her throat, before speaking. The dozens of cuts all bleed into one another, practically covering Alex’s entire upper body in blood.

“Act 2 is not as bad, because you just sucked at your job…” The man sneered, “But trust me, the next one… I’d be surprised if the bitch doesn’t die… Dedicated to Rita Calhoun.”

Your knees buckled and you collapsed on the floor as Alex let out a particular blood curteling scream in the video. Tears streamed down your face as you couldn’t bring yourself to watch the rest of the video, the audio already taunting you enough. You felt your body go limp and you began to slouch and fall from your knees to the ground completely.

“Turn it off! Off!!” Rita yelled enraged, before dropping to the ground with you and comforting you.

Munch turned the video off, but not before the man was able to dedicate the video to Rita. Rita’s eyes widened and her throat went dry. The whole team stared at the two of you. Rita was dumbfounded at what this had to do with her, but she was quick to spring into action over it.

“Novak. Take Y/N to the diner down the street. She probably hasn’t eaten all day.” Rita commanded the room.

Casey’s eyes widened, and she immediately nodded in understanding.

“Of course, Rita.” Casey said, hurriedly coming over to the two of you.

You tried to protest as Rita handed you over to Casey, but Rita was stern and quickly silenced you, not that you could say anything right now with how overwhelmed you were. Casey was quick to file you out of the room.

You didn’t even remember leaving SVU or getting to the diner, all you remember is suddenly sitting with Casey looking at the late lunch menu. You were shaking and fidgeting like crazy.

Casey reached her hand across the table and squeezed your balled up fist reassuringly. You looked up to the redhead with your stained and now completely dried out eyes, having cried it all out for the second time today.

“Hey. Let’s get you some food, huh…?” Casey hummed.

You nodded slowly. The waitress came, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Casey looked at you with care and understanding, ordering for the both of you. Then once the waitress had left, her attention was on you once more.

“C-Casey…?” You whispered.

Casey leaned in and softly spoke,

“Yes…?”

“How… how are you okay…?” You whispered, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you blinked, “She’s… she’s like your best friend and you hers…”

Casey sighed and squeezed your hand again.

“Y/N, look at me.” Casey hummed, her tone breaking in a falter.

You finally looked at Casey again, and took in her appearance. You suddenly noticed the tear stains on her face and how crazy her long, normally well curled hair was.

“I am not okay. I just… suck at showing my emotions…” Casey explained gently, her own eyes beginning to gloss over as she became more vulnerable.

Your lips pressed together and you smiled lightly, nodding in understanding. You gasped slightly as you felt your phone vibrate once in your pocket. You then felt another vibration. Then one last final third vibrating. You pulled your hands into your lap, away from Casey. The redhead looked at you concerningly.

“Everything okay…?” Casey asked.

“Mm yea… just… need the restroom…” you muttered, before getting out of the diner booth and going to the back where the bathroom was.

Casey nodded, watching you leave, before getting on her phone and updating the team, as well as getting updated by what they had figured out. She let the team know that you were doing okay and that she was about to feed you. She sighed and let out a light groan, trying to process the weight of what was happening, while reading the update from the group chat.

Munch had analyzed the background of the video, having figured out that Alex was being kept in some warehouse. Which one, they had no clue.

Fin and Amanda had gotten no leads from the junior officer, apparently the envelope had been given to him by a homeless looking guy who disappeared as soon as he dropped off the package at the precinct.

Rita, Olivia, and Nick had been spending their time looking over old case files and anything that connected Olivia and Rita along with possibly Alex, in hope to find a perp or bad guy who got away somehow and wanted revenge.

When Casey was done being caught up, the food had come. But you were still in the bathroom… The redhead grew suspicious, getting up from the table and walking to the back of the diner to the bathroom. She knocked on the door, but received no answer. Quickly, she tried your cell. Straight to voicemail.

~~

As you stepped into the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the terrible feeling about the texts, so you locked the door and immediately opened your phone. The texts were all from one unknown number.

Y/N L/N.

Then a video link.

Act 3. Elizabeth Donnelly

You didn’t even click or see the video. Not yet. You saw Liz’s name and couldn’t think of anything else. Liz would know what to do. She always knew what to do.

You carefully escaped from Casey’s gaze and hold out of the back of the diner, rushing to catch a cab to the DA’s office where Liz would most likely be. The ride wasn’t too long, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to press play on that video. Liz would know what to do. She always did.

Once your reached Liz’s office, you didn’t even knock, simply barging in. Liz was talking with a few DA’s, and she was about to dig into whoever interrupted them, but then she saw your state.

“Leave. All of you, now!” Liz ordered, shooing the attorneys away.

You quickly shut and locked the door behind you. Liz looked you up and down.

“Y/N, what is going on…?” The older woman spoke firmly.

You were hyperventilating again. You could sit, you were pacing. But you had to tell her something. And you tried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. Liz stood up, recognizing the signs of an anxiety attack, and coming over to you in concern. She guided you to sit with her on her office couch, asking you again, more softly this time,

“Honey, what’s the matter…?”

You let out a choked sob, bringing out your phone and clicking the video. That was the only thing you could think of. Liz watched your every movement. You pressed play.

Alex was hanging as in the last video, but her blouse was completely gone. Her breathing was shallow and barely there, but she was still alive.

The man showed back up, coming up to the camera to say hello, before quickly turning his attention to Alex once more with the same knife as before in his hands. He grabbed Alex’s chin and pulled her face to meet his gaze. Alex tried to growl and fight back, but the exhaustion on her face was evident. He had probably drugged her up real good so that she didn’t stand a chance… While the man held her face rough with one hand, his other with the knife sliced her bra into pieces. He then let her face go with a smack! before tearing the bra off her body. The vulnerable whimper that Alex let out was distinct. And it only fed into the man’s fantasies. He then bent down to her bottom half and ran the knife down her side, followed by his hands ripping her skirt open. He wrenched that off her as well, throwing it aside. Alex was now left only in her panties. She closed her eyes and went limp, as the man trailed the knife in between her legs and up against her clothed core. He then moved to her thigh and ripped her underwear off with a snap! until she was fully nude, hanging for everyone to see. Another hopeless whimper left Alex as the man suddenly smacked her ass.

Before the video could finish, Liz slammed the phone down onto the ground, effectively pausing it. Your eyes went wide and you looked at the older woman with an open mouth. She looked horrified. But Rage was quick to replace the shock.

“What?! Liz wait—!!” You exclaimed as the blonde stood up and shook her white knuckle fists.

Liz turned back to you, looking you directly in the eyes.

“What in the actual fuck is going on, Y/N?!Why in the hell are you making me watch my daughter be tortured by some psycho???” Liz shrilled.

“Lower your voice!!” You harshly whispered, swiftly standing up and getting in her face, and effectively shutting Liz up for a second with how stern you and suddenly become.

“Then you better goddamn tell me what is going on…” Liz growled.

“OK—” you exclaimed, placing your hand on your forehead and sighing.

You say down again as the overwhelming sadness hit you once more.

“Lex… was taken… didn’t show up in court…” you stammered, “Guy’s been sending… videos…” you choked up.

Liz then picked up the phone from the floor, sitting back down next to you in silence for a moment.

“How many?”

You were jolted out of your grief by her words.

“W-what…?” You stammered.

“How many videos… did he send…?” Liz spoke, trying to sound in control but her own tone faltering and cracking a little.

“This is the third. He usually talks about it in the video…” you said quietly.

This made Liz look at you and then back to the phone. She turned it on and clicked play again. You both sat in anticipation as the video continued.

Alex’s bloody, bruised, and now completely exposed body came back on screen, right where it had left off. Alex flinched as the man smacked her ass a second time.

“Shut up Bitch!! Take it, We all know you want it!!!” The man jeered, before smacking her ass a third time and then grabbing and fondling her tits.

Alex tried to pull away from his touch, she tried to yell or cry or shout, but she found that her body was not taking orders from her mind anymore. Her body had gone limp. But she could feel everything. She could see everything in her line of sight. She could hear everything.

When she went completely silent, unable to protest anymore, the man cackled again, louder and more taunting than ever. He then proceeded to come up to the camera.

“Now, I’m not gonna show you this next bit… I’m going to save that for when you find her dead body… But Act 3 is dedicated to that bitch judge, Elizabeth Donnelly…” the man jeered.

The video then went static for a second. Then the camera came back on and showed an unconscious Alex Cabot, swaying lightly back and forth. Where her body wasn’t sliced and cut, it was bruised. Where her body wasn’t bloody, it was covered in dirt, like it had been thrown at her. The faint and small outlines of cigarette burns were trailed across both of her arms and thighs. Her mouth was filled with an oozing her own blood, as if 100 fists had hit her. And her right tit was branded with a symbol, difficult to make out. All of this and so much worse would be discovered had been done to her…

The video ended and silence took the room. Suddenly you heard crying. You looked over and Liz was hunched over and crying in her lap. You weren’t sure what to do, haven’t ever seen the powerful, older woman so vulnerable before. You just instinctively wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… didn’t know what to do… I thought if I came to you…” you rambled, now feeling guilty for having brought this to Liz.

“Hush… none of that… ssnot your fault.” Liz breathed out in sniffles, accepting your embrace and pressing into you even more, “I know she’s not… my real daughter but if anything happens to her… I… I don’t know what I’d do…”

You two sobbed in each other’s arms for a while. It was only when someone came banging on Liz’s office door with no sudden warning that the two of you jumped apart and off the couch. You went to unlock the door and storming in came a furious Rita.

Rita wouldn’t even hear it from you. She took your phone immediately. All the way back to the squad room, the car was silent between the three of you.

Casey had figured out that you had run away, and she had immediately called SVU. They had divided and conquered all the places they thought you’d go. And the second Liz wasn’t answering her own phone, Casey knew that was where you had gone.

Back in the squad room, Munch began analyzing your phone. You sat in one of the detectives chairs, fidgeting and bouncing your leg, under Rita’s intense gaze. She had made you tell the team everything that had happened. She was not going to let you slip away again. Over her dead body.

Liz immediately threw a fit and started ordering people around. After looking at the files that Olivia and Amara had compiled, it took her five minutes to put it together. Liz found a perp who had escaped jail, whom Olivia had interrogated, Rita had represented and lost, She had judged, and Alex had prosecuted and won.

The second the team had their perp, they began canvassing possible areas. The man leased a piece of warehouse property near the river as it was discovered, so that’s where everyone rushed to go to.

Everyone was on edge.

“I’m gonna go!” You exclaimed to Rita.

“No you are not!!” She shrieked back.

“Why not?!! She’s the love of my life!!!” You yelled, tears running down your face as you screamed.

“Because she might be dead, Y/N!!!!”

Practically the entire squad room went silent at this. They all stared at you and Rita. But quickly, they all began their work again, and the team ran out to the location to find Alex. Both Rita and Liz held you back as you fought to get outside and in a squad car. But they held the upper hand. You collapsed in both of their arms, desperate and exhausted, completely out of energy.

~~

The team did indeed find Alex, although she was barely breathing. They immediately sent her to Mercy’s, where Rita and Liz already had you there waiting. You sat in the waiting room, in between the two woman, shaking and fidgeting restlessly.

Hours went by with no update. Eventually, it was all too much for you. You leaned against Rita’s shoulder for some comfort and before you could stop yourself, you were falling asleep.

~~

“Y/N, love, wake up…” Liz gently woke you, making you snort lightly as you came back to reality.

She was offering you a hand, which you eagerly took to stand up. The nurse came up to you.

“You may see her now. One at a time please.” The nurse told the group of you.

Everyone looked at you and pretty much all agreed in unison and with mere looks that you would be the person going in to see her first.

You entered the hospital room, and immediately came up to Alex’s bedside. You felt relief wash over you that she was here with you and that she was okay. You held one of her hands as she came to.

“Mmm heyyyy…” Alex said in an extremely scratchy and hoarse voice, her head turning slowly towards you.

Tears of joy began to spill out and down your cheeks. You squeezed your wife’s hand lovingly.

“Hi Lex…” you whispered, “How are you feeling…?”

“Like someone pumped an entire pharmacy through me…” Alex groaned lightly, “mm pretty sure I was drugged… most of the time I couldn’t move or speak…” her tone got sad and overwhelmed, as tears started to form on her sapphire eyes.

“Hey hey, it’s okay.” You comforted Alex, who met your gaze again, smiling at the sight of you, “You’re safe with me now, that’s all that matters…”

Alex lightly squeezed your hand now as she smiled. It would be a long road to recovery, but the important thing is that you would be with her every step of the way.

Her squeeze on your hand faded, which you just attributed to the blonde being tired. But then her eyes closed… and then you couldn’t hear her breathing. You jolted when the heart rate monitor started going off.

Suddenly, there were 4-5 hospital staff members in the room, pushing you aside. You stood in the corner of the room, with your hands over your mouth, silent tears flooding down your face. You heard the designated coding sound come from the machine, and you collapsed onto the floor. Everything went numb.

You could vaguely hear a nurse giving you her condolences. You didn’t even reliaze that you were walking out of the room until you stood in front of the group that loved Alex the most. You were violently shaking, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Liz was the first own to come up to you, to see what was wrong. And Liz was the first one to understand… You fell to your knees and cried into your hands, not caring anymore. You’d lost the love of your life, your wife, your everything.

Liz looked more emotional and out of control than she’d ever been. She kept stammering that it couldn’t be true, but once a doctor came out and told the entire group the news, Liz let out a distraught wail, covering her face in her hands as she sobbed. Casey immediately buried herself in Liz’s embrace which Liz of course accepted. The last thing you remember about that day was Rita coming up to you and embracing you on the floor…

~~~

Alexandra Cabot Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Casey Novak Masterlist

Elizabeth Donnelly Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Amanda Rollins Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

[beauty-funny-trippy]

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Anna Merlan at Mother Jones:

In recent days, a number of news sites that rely heavily on aggregation have posted stories about Minnesota governor and vice presidential candidate Tim Walz, reporting “allegations” that he sexually assaulted a minor while working as a teacher and football coach. The clearly false claims stem from the prolific work of one man, a Twitter conspiracy peddler who goes by Black Insurrectionist. After previously pushing a lie about a presidential debate “whistleblower,” he’s at it again, and even his clownish mistakes haven’t kept the claims from taking off on Twitter, or being promoted by automated sections of the news ecosystem. Black Insurrectionist, who tweets under the handle @docnetyoutube, is a self-professed MAGA fan who says he’s based in Dallas. He’s paid for his Twitter account, meaning his visibility is boosted on the site; he’s also followed by a number of people in the MAGA and right-leaning fake news spheres, including Donald Trump Jr., dirty tricks specialist and Trump adviser Roger Stone, Pizzagate promoter Liz Crokin, and conspiracy kingpin Alex Jones.

In September, he promoted an obviously fake story about a “whistleblower” at ABC News anonymously claiming the presidential debate hosted by the channel had been biased in favor of Kamala Harris. To back up the claims, he published a purported affidavit by the whistleblower, a poorly formatted and typo-riddled document that, among other things, claimed that Harris had been assured she wouldn’t be questioned about her time as “Attorney General in San Francisco,” a job she never held, as it doesn’t exist. The clumsy story still received immense pickup, including from hedge fund billionaire Bill Ackman, who began tweeting at various entities to investigate the claim; Elon Musk also shared some of Ackman’s posts. 

Black Insurrectionist (aka “DocNetyoutube”), a fake news-peddling far-right conspiracy theorist X account, was the culprit behind the lurid lie about Kamala Harris VP pick Tim Walz by falsely accusing him of “sexual assault.”

[littletreeproductions]

Liz Keen & Donald Ressler [+s10] | Carry You

Somewhere, is just a tiny island of calm. And if that weren't there... I would be swept out to sea.

[prcg]

Cada periodista basura que mintió sobre los comentarios de Cheney de Trump

La prensa propagandística demócrata miente completamente sobre los comentarios que Trump hizo sobre la neoconservadora y exrepresentante Liz Cheney en una entrevista con Tucker Carlson. Trump llamó a Cheney un “halcón de guerra radical” y señaló lo fácil que es tomar decisiones sobre las vidas de las tropas estadounidenses cuando estás sentado en una oficina acogedora y aislada y no tienes idea…

[truth-has-a-liberal-bias]

I’ve had a lot of conversations since Tuesday revolving around the question of why Donald Trump won. The economy and inflation. Kamala Harris didn’t do this or that. Sexism and racism. The border. That trans-inmate ad that ran a jillion times. And so on.

These conversations have usually proceeded along lines where people ask incredulously how a majority of voters could have believed this or that. Weren’t they bothered that Trump is a convicted felon? An adjudicated rapist? Didn’t his invocation of violence against Liz Cheney, or 50 other examples of his disgusting imprecations, obviously disqualify him? And couldn’t they see that Harris, whatever her shortcomings, was a fundamentally smart, honest, well-meaning person who would show basic respect for the Constitution and wouldn’t do anything weird as president?

The answer is obviously no—not enough people were able to see any of those things. At which point people throw up their hands and say, “I give up.”

But this line of analysis requires that we ask one more question. And it’s the crucial one: Why didn’t a majority of voters see these things? And understanding the answer to that question is how we start to dig out of this tragic mess.

The answer is the right-wing media. Today, the right-wing media—Fox News (and the entire News Corp.), Newsmax, One America News Network, the Sinclair network of radio and TV stations and newspapers, iHeart Media (formerly Clear Channel), the Bott Radio Network (Christian radio), Elon Musk’s X, the huge podcasts like Joe Rogan’s, and much more—sets the news agenda in this country. And they fed their audiences a diet of slanted and distorted information that made it possible for Trump to win. [...]

[itscherrylipsforme]

Every second matters: Donald Ressler x FBI!fem!reader

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Your teammate’s and "crush-you-are-not-willing-to-admit"s disappearance is definitely one of those times, so you reluctantly have to ask the FBI’s most wanted criminal for help. Surprisingly, Raymond Reddington is also an excellent matchmaker

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and small injuries

Requested: yes

Words: 1300

Author rambles: Sorry because this took me ages (how many times have already repeated that?) Thanks to the amazing @zizzlekwum for her request and patience. Had to change the name while editing because this sounded better. Also this was edited late at night with mint tea as fuel and queued on the bus on my way to campus this morning, so blame any mistakes on those...

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

In the time you have been in the unit you have learnt two basic facts.

Fact number 1: There is absolutely no phone number, location or person Aram Mojtabai cannot find.

Fact number 2: You and the team never, I repeat, never go against Reddington’s plan. And that's for your own sake.

Yet, in the last hours everything you knew had come down in pieces. Ruins of the rules and statements you once held to, now they are left broken much as yourself. You look at Aram, clinging at the last straw of hope that remained.

“These guys are completely analogical! No digital footprint. And the last camera which got a glimpse of them only helps to reduce the search to a ten miles radius which is all covered by suburban houses. It just doesn’t make sense, the house’s cameras should have recorded them.”

His hands tangle in his short locks trying to find out a clue, something he is looking pass. Hostages just don’t go missing. Agents just don’t vanish in the air. Ressler can’t have just disappeared.

“What about Reddington?” You finally gather the courage to ask it, voice determined, you not so much inside.

“Still unwilling to talk with us.” Dembe, the gentle giant you have got used to call coworker and even friend in the last months, sights while crossing his arms. You have already seen the look in his eyes, the weight of the decisions you should both had taken as it that could ever change the current situation.

Things were easier when Liz was around, the idea hangs out in the air as if you could nearly capture it. Nobody says it, but all of you know is true. Liz was the only who could talk some sense into him, if someone could ever talk sense into Raymond Reddington. A few years ago, you could trust in Dembe to try it at least too. But since he has become Agent Zuma, the relationship has run cold. A worry for another day, you have more important matters in your hands now.

“Do we know where is him?”

Another question coming from your lips without even realizing, a silent nod the only answer you needed. Before turning to face your unit chief, Harold Copper.

“L/n, you have my permission to go.”

A fancy cocktail bar at six pm on a Monday afternoon. Lately Raymond wasn’t being too careful while choosing his meeting point, but with all you had in mind that was the last of your worries This shouldn’t have happened, nothing of this shouldn’t have happened. If things had been different, now you blamed yourself. Should have told him to stay in the car as Reddington had said, it was a recognition mission after all. But no, Donald Ressler always had to play the hero, and you didn’t have the guts to stop him.

“Y/n, my dear, sit down.” Reddignton retires a chair for you, a far too kind gesture considering how he had acted just an hour ago when Donald went missing in the mission. “Would you join me for a drink?” He pours another glass of a wine, which seems to cost at least a ten percent of your monthly salary, before you could even reply.

“Ressler has disappeared. He is probably being tortured at the moment, maybe even…” That’s another thing you learn in the field. Never say the forbidden word. If you do, you lose any kind of faith in seeing them again. If you lose faith, you lose everything. Even the possibility of them. "And you are thinking about wine?”

“Well, news like that is better taken while tipsy, isn’t it?”

Classical Reddington. Joking in the most inappropriate moments. Well, you also have an habit of storming out when angered. He will have to deal with that.

“You know how much he has lost because of you, right? Liz, his old girlfriend..." That gives you a bitter taste while rolling off your tongue at the same time you stand up. "You know what he has gone through. Don’t you care at least a bit? Once he dedicated his life to see you behind bars you, now he works by your side."

Your words are rushed, agitated. You can't even stop to catch a breath. Not that you want you, not until you are sure Ressler can do the same.

"You should respect that at least, I thought Raymond Reddington cared about his team.”

You see a strange glimmer in his eyes. Not mockery this time, but there was a small smirk in the curve of his thin lips. Laugh? Perhaps a hint of pride?

“First of all, you are well aware I do." He takes a long sip until the glass in empty. " Second, Donald is not in risk. Maybe bruised, but not deeply hurt. Those guys know better than to mess up with my team, as you have put into words.”

“Then why don’t you do something?”

Now there is a full grin on his face as he stands up takes his jacket from the hanger, not without leaving a generous tip on the table.

“I was waiting for you to ask me. And you did, half an hour earlier than I had bet by the way. This case may be even worse than I thought.”

“Cut out the riddles, Reddington.”

“You know he’s in love with you, right?”

How could he say it so blatantly, sweeping his fedora with such a calm manner while you had lost all your words? Mouth hanging and unable to stammer something coherent.

“He what?”

“And it seems pretty mutual to me” With that he puts the hat on and opens the door for both of you. Still trying to process everything you can't help following him in silence.

The rest of the rescue passes bluring infront of your eyes. Reddington telling you the exact location. Entering the housing development which had been carefully built as a cover for the criminal network (only a few houses were actually being used by its members). Dembe and Siya watching your back as the suspects were aiming at you. Clearing the area. Immobilizing the suspects. And finally arriving to Ressler's side.

You try to be gentle as you untie him from ropes which are holding him to a chair. However, your attempts are futile, hands to clumsy and brain dulled by all the emotions coming for you at once. You can't even recall when a few timid tears have started rolling down your cheeks, but you don't mind either. Donald is an equal mess right now, it's the first time you have seen him like these. Vulnerable. Human. And it only adds to the feeling you don't dare to voice. Not yet.

As soon as his free you wrap your arms around him. His nose in your hair as an anchor to remind him you are finally here. A considerable bruise under his eye and his bloody knuckles would usually worry to death (yes, even considering your field). But now you can't bring yourself to care, just wanting to hold him close. An urge to kiss his lips until you are both restless reaches your mind, yet the need for this. Just a hug. Just a simple gesture to assure you he won't be leaving anytime soon is enough for the moment.

"I think you have some things to discuss. I will leave you to it.”

Raymond's words take you by surprise, and between the falling tears you and Donald start laughing at the situation.

"Maybe we should talk about this" You whisper as you try to calm down and reluctantly pull away from him.

Too bad he has no intention of moving, but neitheir of saying what is really going through his mind.

"Maybe. Later. Not now. Just..."

Without further ado he rests his face on the crock of your neck. He had always been a man of action, not too good words. You didn't mind. As long as you could feel his breath on your skin, his warm body relaxing. Working in the unit every second matters. And you will treasure these and enjoy them as long as you can.

[waystarresourceco]

Kendall’s office with a breakdown of identifiable degrees and awards. A list of books are under the cut. (x)

Degrees:

B.A. in Economics (summa or magna cum laude) – Harvard University

E.M.B.A. (Executive Master of Business Administration) – INSEAD

INSEAD has locations in Europe (France), Asia (Singapore), the Middle East (Abu Dhabi) and North America (San Francisco); unclear which location Kendall attended 

Awards:

Liz Rogers Award for Leadership in Business and Entertainment Media

Books (Left to Right):

The New Digital Age by Eric Schmidt and Jared Cohen

Masters of Innovation: Building the Perpetually Innovative Company by Kai Engle, Violetka Dirlea, and Stephen Dyer (credit to @poeland and @kenzie-ann27 for the ID!)

Responsibility at Work by Howard Gardner

Beijing Welcomes You by Tom Scocca

Confessions of a Radical Industrialist by Ray C. Anderson

Known and Unknown by Donald Rumsfeld

Collision Low Crossers by Nicholas Dawidoff

The Credible Company by Roger D'Aprix (thanks again to @poeland and @kenzie-ann27 for this one as well!)

The Moment of Clarity by Christian Madsbjerg and Mikkel B. Rasmussen

Emperors and Idiots by Mike Vaccaro

Execution: The Discipline of Getting Things Done by Larry Bossidy and Ram Charan

The Hedge Fund Mirage by Simon Lark

The Mobile Mind Shift by Ted Schadler, Josh Bernoff, and Julie Ask

Denial and Deception by Melissa Boyle Mahle

The Good Jobs Strategy by Zeynep Ton

Trauma Red by Peter Rhee

Good for the Money: My Fight to Pay Back America by Bob Benmosche (huge thanks to @poeland for identifying!)

[Unidentified]

In an Uncertain World: Tough Choices from Wall Street to Washington by Robert Rubin (huge thanks to @flippy-floppy for identifying!)

Feel free to message if anyone can identify any of the other items/books/details!

[darkmaga-returns]

We are just days away from the presidential election, in fact we are entering the final weekend. Interestingly, Donald Trump appears to have seized on all of Kamala Harris’s weaknesses on foreign policy — particularly the hell she has been taking from her left flank over Gaza — to try and peel off voters in key swing states including Michigan and Wisconsin, which we know have big Muslim-American populations.

So while Kamala Harris has been campaigning with neoconservative Liz Cheney, blowing the minds of her progressive base, many of whom no doubt see the looming face of Dick Cheney and both father and daughter’s support for the Global War on Terror in every step they make on the campaign trail, Trump has been talking about peace in the Middle East, ending the War in Ukraine and reanimating his attacks on the George W. Bush administration.

His running mate Senator J.D. Vance, meanwhile, actually posted on X late last week that “Israel has the right to defend itself, but America's interest is sometimes going to be distinct. Sometimes we're going to have overlapping interests, and sometimes we're going to have distinct interests. And our interest, I think, very much is in not going to war with Iran.”

He also criticized the Harris team squarely on Gaza. 

“Even though they say they want to minimize Palestinian civilian casualties, they pursued the pathway that maximizes those casualties,” Vance said. “They say that they're pro-Israel. They've pursued the pathway that has prolonged the war as long as possible, which is bad for Israel.”

[mariacallous]

Allies of Hungary’s far-right prime minister Viktor Orbán will hold a closed-door meeting with Republicans in Washington to push for an end to US military support for Ukraine, the Guardian has learned.

Members of the Hungarian Institute of International Affairs and staff from the Hungarian embassy in Washington will on Monday begin a two-day event hosted by the conservative Heritage Foundation thinktank.

The first day includes panel speeches about the Ukraine war as well as topics such as Transatlantic Culture Wars. It is expected to feature guests including Magor Ernyei, the international director of the Centre for Fundamental Rights, the institute that organized CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) Hungary. Kelley Currie, a former ambassador under then president Donald Trump, said she was invited “but declined”.

According to a Republican source, some of the attendees, including Republican members of Congress, have been invited to join closed-door talks the next day.

The meeting will take place against a backdrop of tense debate in Washington over Ukraine’s future. Last week the White House warned that, without congressional action, money to buy more weapons and equipment for Kyiv will run out by the end of the year. On Wednesday Senate Republicans blocked an emergency spending bill to fund the war in Ukraine.

A diplomatic source close to the Hungarian embassy said: “Orbán is confident that the Ukraine aid will not pass in Congress. That is why he is trying to block assistance from the EU as well.”

Orbán is a frequent critic of aid to help Ukraine against the Russian invasion. Seen as Vladimir Putin’s closest ally inside the EU for the past few years, he was photographed smiling and shaking hands with the Russian president two months ago in Beijing.

Orbán recently demanded that Ukraine’s European Union (EU) membership be taken off the European Council’s agenda in December. The Hungarian leader posted on X, the platform formerly known as Twitter: “It is clear that the proposal of the European Commission on Ukraine’s EU accession is unfounded and poorly prepared.”

The Heritage Foundation is leading Project 2025, a coalition preparing for the next conservative presidential administration, and has in recent months hosted speeches by leading British Conservative party members Liz Truss and Iain Duncan Smith.

The thinktank has also been a vocal opponent of US assistance to Ukraine. Last year Jessica Anderson, the executive director of its lobbying operation, released a statement under the headline: “Ukraine Aid Package Puts America Last.” In August, Victoria Coates, Heritage’s vice-president, posted on social media: “It’s time to end the blank, undated checks for Ukraine.”

When Heritage celebrated its 50th anniversary last April, Orbán’s political director, Balázs Orbán (no relation), was invited as a speaker for the event. Heritage’s president, Kevin Roberts, repeatedly praised the Hungarian leader on X: “One thing is clear from visiting Hungary and from being involved in current policy and cultural debates in America: the world needs a movement that fights for Truth, for tradition, for families, and for the average person.”

In recent years Orbán has championed a transatlantic far-right alliance with a hardline stance against immigration and “gender ideology”, staunch Christian nationalism and scorn for those who warn of a slide into authoritarianism.

Hungary has been portrayed by conservative media as an anti-“woke” paradise and model for the United States. Some far-right Republicans, such as Kari Lake and Paul Gosar, said they would like to see the “Hungarian model” transplanted to the US, especially when it comes to immigration and family policies. CPAC went to Hungary for the second time this year, and former Fox News host Tucker Carlson shot multiple episodes in Hungary touting Orbán policies.

Orbán has returned the favour by lavishing praise on Trump. During this year’s CPAC, where Roberts was also featured as a speaker, he claimed that if Trump were president, “there would be no war in Ukraine and Europe”. The Hungarian prime minister has criticised the multiple federal indictments against the former US president and called the judicial procedure a “very communist methodology” in a recent interview with Carlson.

Dalibor Rohac, a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute thinktank in Washington, said: “The Hungarian embassy in DC has been very active lately, trying to repair ties with the Republicans and strengthen them where it’s appropriate.

“It is also not surprising that Heritage is the venue of these talks because they are different from other thinktanks in DC; they are more partisan, and their funding model heavily overlaps with the Trump base.”

But, Rohac said, despite his good relations with some Republicans it was “unlikely” that Orbán would have any leverage over US funding for Ukraine.

Supporters of Ukraine have also been making their case to Republicans in Congress. This week David Cameron, the British foreign secretary, held meetings on Capitol Hill. He told a press conference: “I am sure that goodwill will prevail and the money will be voted through, and it will have a huge effect not just on morale in Ukraine but also making sure that European countries keep asking themselves what more can they do.”

[writingbyshiloh]

Part 1: Samar

Series Masterlist

CW: Brief mention of the reader having a mother. Minor Aram x Samar (my fave paring). Implied sex with Reddington. not beta read (as usual).

AN: see the end of the fic for the full flower meanings! This is part 1 of a 5 + 1 series, but could also be a Valentine's Day stand-alone! 

Part 1. Samar

You didn’t know how to define your relationship with Reddington. He was still officially one of the FBIs most wanted, and you were an agent. Officially dating sounded too old school and formal, but friends with benefits sounded too casual and young. 

However you define it, you knew that if it came to light, your career would go up in smoke along with your reputation. Which is why you stressed to Reddington that no one could find out. That lasted about 10 minutes before an unfortunate encounter with Dembe. He was the only exception because Reddington swore that Dembe kept worse secrets. 

When asked if you could stay late on Valentine's Day you couldn't think of a good excuse to say no. It also got you out of any plans that may arise. 

Still trying to be in the holiday spirit you brought in a large box of chocolates for the team, complete with a bow, not surprised to see a few boxes already on Aram’s desk. Samar probably got Aram his own box, but there were still a few from team members for team members. 

What was surprising was Reddington, always the gentleman, with bouquets of flowers in stunning reds, whites, purples, and yellows in his arms by the desk.

You were the last to arrive, dumping your box on Aram’s desk. The others were in casual conversation comparing plans for the day while Reddington shuffled the flowers. 

“Apologies, Donald, I didn’t think you were the flower type.” Red didn’t look too apologetic, while Donald looked relieved that he was not on the receiving end of the flowers. 

“Agent Mojtabai, for friendship” Red handed him the yellow bouquet, full of coreopsis. You smiled. The relationship between Aram and ‘Mr. Reddington’ as the younger man called Red was adorable. 

“Lizzy, classic choice for a classic lady, white roses”. Liz thanked him before taking the flowers. Reddington turned his attention to Samar, holding out the purple flowers. 

“Flowers of the gladiators for you, Samar.” Samar smiled, clearly pleased she had the flowers of strength and victory. Unfortunately, that left you, to receive the red bouquet. 

“Red gardenias, like your mom used to grow.” He extended the last bouquet to you, which you took it gently, noting the card with writing on it. You thanked him but wondered if he was mistaken. Your mom never grew gardenias, and even if she did you never told Reddington about your childhood. 

You pulled out the card tucked into your bouquet and quickly stashed it back in the flowers. In his handwriting, it read There are no flowers which describe what you did two nights ago, thus, gardenia, for secrets. - Red. 

You glanced around to see if anyone noticed how quickly you dropped the card. Everyone was already buried in their work, minus Reddington, who looked pleased that you understood the real meaning of the flowers. 

---

“Gardenias also represent secrets,” Samar told you as she was getting ready to leave. You knew she was smart but had no idea how she knew that. You glanced at the flowers. 

“That's pretty cool. I think my mom grew them because she liked the smell.” You lied, praying that she would drop the topic. Her gaze flicked between you and the flowers a few more times before she shrugged on her coat. 

“Happy Valentine's Day,” She said before leaving your shared office. 

“Yeah, you too!” you called out from behind her. She totally bought your lie. Right?

------------

Reddington tag list: (Dm to be added or removed), @soraya-daydreams, @horrorqueen22, @wild-rose-35, @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek, @zombieskullxz, @rhepworth

Flower meanings:

You -red Gardenia - you're lovely, secret love

Aram - yellow Coreopsis - always cheerful 

Samar - purple  Gladiolus - Flower of the Gladiators, Integrity, Strength, Victory

Liz - White Roses - Innocence, Heavenly, I’m worthy of you

[arcane-vagabond]

About Me

Hey there!

Hi! My name is Liz! I’m 28 years old (Born on September 3rd), and my big three are Virgo Sun, Taurus Moon, and Virgo Rising! I just recently started writing fanfiction, but I’ve been writing since I was around 9 years old. I’ve been creating stories since I could talk! I was a Linguistics Major in college, and I had two minors: one in German and the other in Medieval and Renaissance Studies. I studied abroad twice during college: once for a year in Germany and the other for a month in Ireland! 

My Hobbies include:

Writing

Reading

Drawing

Painting

Traveling 

Video Games

Photography

Cross-stitch

Embroidery

My Favorites include:

Books: Night Road by A.M. Jenkins, The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, The Giver by Lois Lowry, Earth Abides by George R. Stewart, and Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Movies: The Labyrinth, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Raiders of the Lost Ark, Where the Crawdads Sing, Detective Pikachu, and Black Phone

Shows: Derry Girls, Daria, X-Files, Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, Fruits Basket, and Anne With an E

Songs: In a Week by Hozier, The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by U2

Disney Movies: The Little Mermaid, Brave, Elemental, and Soul

Disney Princess: Ariel

Disney Character: Donald Duck

Disney Show: Ducktales (original and new)

Cryptid: Mothman

Holiday: Halloween

Scary Movies: The Omen (1976), Longlegs, Incantation, and As Above, So Below

Flower: Lily of the Valley

Place in the World: Scottish Highlands

Myth: Orpheus and Eurydice

Musicals: Hadestown and Jesus Christ Superstar

Season: Spring

Weather: Thunderstorms

Colors: Yellow, Green, and Pink!

Musical Artist: Hozier

Animals: Stingrays, Gorillas, and Foxes

My Other Interests include:

Mythology

Folklore

Cryptids

Anime

History

Literature

Cute Things

Conservation

Activism

My Personality Types are:

INFP

Chaotic Good

Enneagram 7

Have other questions? Go ahead and shoot me an ask!

[jessythebunny]

💞 official ships 💞:

💙✨•Jessy(me) x Jonathan (oc)•✨🤎

💗✨•Messy(my twin sister) x Liam(oc)•✨💛

💜✨•Lucy(oc) x Rami(oc)•✨💙

🩵✨•Venessa(oc) x Ken(oc)•✨🤍

💜✨•Saiko(oc) x Alex(oc)•✨🩷

💙✨•Anna(oc) x Otis(oc)•✨💜

💙✨•Thomas x Rosie•✨❤

❤✨•James x Emily•✨💚

💙✨•Gordon x Rebecca•✨💛

🤎✨•Toby x Henrietta•✨🧡

💚✨•Duck x Oliver•✨💚

💚✨•Henry x Hiro•✨🖤

🖤✨•Donald x Jamie(@jammyjams1910)•✨🩵

🖤✨•Douglas x Emily(@just-a-douglas-simp-existing)•✨💗

🖤✨•Diesel x Mavis•✨💛

💚✨•Percy x Lady•✨💜

💚✨•Boco x Daisy•✨💚

💚✨•Luke x Millie•✨💙

💙✨•Edward x Molly•✨💛

🧡✨•Murdoch x Mia(oc)•✨🖤

🤍✨•Skiff x Marina(oc but she's a mermaid)•✨💛

🧡✨•Rusty x Duncan•✨💛

❤✨•Skarloey x Rheneas•✨♥

💙✨•Sir handel x Peter sam•✨💚

💗✨•Caitlin x Spencer•✨🩶

💚✨•Cranky x Carly•✨💛

🧡✨•Nia x Paxton•✨💚

💙✨•Timothy x Marion•✨🧡

🩶✨•Timothy(ghost train) x Hannah•✨💛

🩶✨•Toad x Dilly•✨🤍

❤✨•Bertie x Bulgy•✨❤

🤎✨•Diesel 10 x Bert•✨💛

💙✨•Sidney x Norman•✨❤

❤✨•Den x Dart•✨💛

💛✨•Arry x Class 40•✨💚

🖤✨•Sir topham hatt x Lady hatt•✨💜

❤✨•Rocky x Harvey•✨❤

🤍✨•Harold x Jeremy•✨🤍

💚✨•Whiff x Scruff•✨💛

💙✨•Captain x Butch•✨💛

💛✨•Stephen x Glynn•✨❤

💜✨•Ryan x Arther•✨❤

💚✨•the flying scotsman x connor•✨🩵

💛✨•Kevin x Philip•✨💚

💙✨•Porter x Salty•✨❤

💙✨•Belle x Flynn•✨❤

🩷✨•Ashima x Rajiv•✨🩵

💜✨•Charlie x Billy•✨🧡

💚✨•Edd x Matt•✨💜

💙✨•Tom x Tord•✨❤

💚✨•Ell x Matilda•✨💜

💙✨•Tamara x Tori•✨❤

💙✨•Sportacus x Robbie Rotten•✨💜

🩷✨•Stephanie x Ziggy•✨🩵

💛✨•Stingy x Trixie•✨❤

🧡✨•Milfred the mayor x Miss Busy Buddy•✨💙

💙✨•Pixel x Victoria (oc)•✨💚

💛✨•Cuddles x Giggles•✨💗

🧡✨•Handy x Petunia•✨💙

💚✨•Flippy x Flaky•✨❤

💜✨•Lammy x Truffles•✨💙

💙✨•Splendid x lovely(oc)•✨🤍

❤✨•Splendont x Patty•✨💛

🤎✨•Xebas x Liz(oc)•✨🧡

🧡✨•Nicky x Gina(oc)•✨🤍

🤍✨•Snowers x Winter•✨🤍

💙✨•Sniffles x Nutty•✨💚

💙✨•Lumpy x The mole•✨💜

💜✨•Toothy x Kira(oc)•✨🩵

❤✨•Splendien(oc) x Disco bear•✨🧡

💙✨•Splendiana(oc) x Wonder Wanda•✨🧡

💚✨•Sneaky x Mouse kaboom•✨🧡

💚✨•Green x Light green(oc)•✨💚

💜✨•Purple x Red•✨❤

💙✨•Blue x Pink•✨🩷

🧡✨•Orange x Cyan•✨🩵

❤✨•Remzi x Kadriye•✨💜

🤎✨•Merkit x Faride•✨🩷

🩶✨•Talking Tom x talking Angela•✨🤍

💙✨•Talking Hank x talking Becca•✨🖤

🧡✨•Dogday x Catnap•✨💜

💚✨•Hoppy hopscotch x Bobby bearhug•✨❤

🩷✨•Picky pig x Craftycorn•✨🩵

💙✨•Bubba bubbaphant x Kickin chicken•✨💛

❤✨•Miss delight x Baldi•✨💚

💛✨•Joy x Anger•✨❤

💜✨•Fear x Anxiety•✨🧡

🩵✨•Sadness x Embarrassment•✨🩷

💙✨•Hefty smurf x Smurfette•✨💙

💙✨•Handy smurf x Marina•✨💚

💙✨•Brainy smurf x clumzy smurf •✨💙

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Michael Tomasky at The New Republic:

I’ve had a lot of conversations since Tuesday revolving around the question of why Donald Trump won. The economy and inflation. Kamala Harris didn’t do this or that. Sexism and racism. The border. That trans-inmate ad that ran a jillion times. And so on. These conversations have usually proceeded along lines where people ask incredulously how a majority of voters could have believed this or that. Weren’t they bothered that Trump is a convicted felon? An adjudicated rapist? Didn’t his invocation of violence against Liz Cheney, or 50 other examples of his disgusting imprecations, obviously disqualify him? And couldn’t they see that Harris, whatever her shortcomings, was a fundamentally smart, honest, well-meaning person who would show basic respect for the Constitution and wouldn’t do anything weird as president?

The answer is obviously no—not enough people were able to see any of those things. At which point people throw up their hands and say, “I give up.” But this line of analysis requires that we ask one more question. And it’s the crucial one: Why didn’t a majority of voters see these things? And understanding the answer to that question is how we start to dig out of this tragic mess.

The answer is the right-wing media. Today, the right-wing media—Fox News (and the entire News Corp.), Newsmax, One America News Network, the Sinclair network of radio and TV stations and newspapers, iHeart Media (formerly Clear Channel), the Bott Radio Network (Christian radio), Elon Musk’s X, the huge podcasts like Joe Rogan’s, and much more—sets the news agenda in this country. And they fed their audiences a diet of slanted and distorted information that made it possible for Trump to win. Let me say that again, in case it got lost: Today, the right-wing media sets the news agenda in this country. Not The New York Times. Not The Washington Post (which bent over backwards to exert no influence when Jeff Bezos pulled the paper’s Harris endorsement). Not CBS, NBC, and ABC. The agenda is set by all the outlets I listed in the above paragraph. Even the mighty New York Times follows in its wake, aping the tone they set disturbingly often. If you read me regularly, you know that I’ve written this before, but I’m going to keep writing it until people—specifically, rich liberals, who are the only people in the world who have the power to do something about this state of affairs—take some action.

[...]

This is the year in which it became obvious that the right-wing media has more power than the mainstream media. It’s not just that it’s bigger. It’s that it speaks with one voice, and that voice says Democrats and liberals are treasonous elitists who hate you, and Republicans and conservatives love God and country and are your last line of defense against your son coming home from school your daughter. And that is why Donald Trump won. Indeed, the right-wing media is why he exists in our political lives in the first place. Don’t believe me? Try this thought experiment. Imagine Trump coming down that escalator in 2015 with no right-wing media; no Fox News; an agenda still set, and mores still established, by staid old CBS News, the House of Murrow, and The New York Times.

That atmosphere would have denied an outrageous figure like Trump the oxygen he needed to survive and flourish. He just would not have been taken seriously at all. In that world, ruled by a traditional mainstream media, Trump would have been seen by Republicans as a liability, and they would have done what they failed to do in real life—banded together to marginalize him. But the existence of Fox changed everything. Fox hosted the early debates, which Trump won not with intelligence, but outrageousness. He tapped into the grievance culture Fox had nursed among conservatives for years. He had (most of the time) Rupert Murdoch’s personal blessing. In 2015-16, Fox made Trump possible. [...]

The fake story about Haitian residents of Springfield, Ohio eating cats and dogs, for example, started with a Facebook post citing second- and third-hand sources, Gertz told me; it then “circulated on X and was picked up by all the major right-wing influencers.” Only then did Vance, a very online dude, notice it and decide to run with it. And then Trump said it himself at the debate. But it started in the right-wing media. Likewise with the post-debate ABC “whistleblower” claims, which Gertz wrote about at the time. This was the story that ABC, which hosted the only presidential debate this election, fed Team Harris the questions in advance. This started, Gertz wrote, as a “wildly flimsy internet rumor launched by a random pro-Trump X poster.” Soon enough, the right-wing media was all over it.

Maybe that one didn’t make a huge difference (although who knows?), but this one, I believe, absolutely did: the idea that Harris and Joe Biden swiped emergency aid away from the victims of Hurricane Helene (in mostly Southern, red states) and gave it all to undocumented migrants. It did not start with Trump or his campaign or Vance or the Republican National Committee or Lindsey Graham. It started on Fox. Only then did the others pick it up. And it was key, since this was a moment when Harris’s momentum in the polling averages began to flag.

[...]

To much of America, by the way, this is not understood as one side’s view of things. It’s simply “the news.” This is what people—white people, chiefly—watch in about two-thirds of the country. I trust that you’ve seen in your travels, as I have in mine, that in red or even some purple parts of the country, when you walk into a hotel lobby or a hospital waiting room or even a bar, where the TVs ought to be offering us some peace and just showing ESPN, at least one television is tuned to Fox. That’s reach, and that’s power. And then people get in their cars to drive home and listen to an iHeart, right-wing talk radio station. And then they get home and watch their local news and it’s owned by Sinclair, and it, too, has a clear right-wing slant. And then they pick up their local paper, if it still exists, and the oped page features Cal Thomas and Ben Shapiro. Liberals, rich and otherwise, live in a bubble where they never see this stuff. I would beg them to see it. Watch some Fox. Listen to some Christian radio. Experience the news that millions of Americans are getting on a daily basis. You’ll pretty quickly come to understand what I’m saying here.

[...] The reason? The right-wing media. And it’s only growing and growing. And I haven’t even gotten to social media and Tik Tok and the other platforms from which far more people are getting their news these days. The right is way ahead on those fronts too. Liberals must wake up and understand this and do something about it before it’s too late, which it almost is.

Michael Tomasky of TNR explains it perfectly: Donald Trump won due to the right-wing media apparatus feeding lies to the voters.

[littletreeproductions]

Elizabeth Keen & Donald Ressler | Their story

This isn't the end, not for you. 

[raymond-reddington-ruminations]

Title:By The Horns

Date:July 14th, 2023.

Series:The Blacklist

Category: Finale fix-it fic

Main characters: Donald Ressler, Raymond Reddington

Rating: PG-13

Tags: The Blacklist, Redarina (implied)

*I made up the quotes from Liz in here because I figure they must have had these conversations, even if we didn't see them on screen.*

It was damn lucky that he'd come in a helicopter. As tiny as it was they managed to get Reddington onto the collapsible emergency backboard, and maneuvered him inside. Donald Ressler got Reddington to a medical center inside of 20 minutes of noticing the seemingly dead man twitch.

Now Ressler sat in a side room off of a short hallway. Calling it a waiting room was too generous a term for this tiny little emergency medical center. His elbows rested on his knees and his forehead in his hands. He was shaking, and his vision was off somehow, as it had been since he found Reddington stomped into the ground by the bull. A tornado of conflict like he'd never quite known ran through him. He should be doing something else. He should be calling Cooper back. That wail that had come from Dembe when he'd told them he was standing over Red's body.

But then the twitch, the pulse check, the noise of the helicopter and the urgency of the doctors and nurses. He hadn't had a chance to call them back, to tell them that the man was still alive.

"Not yet," a voice in the back of his head whispered.

Reddington might not make it. Ressler would wait for the doctor to give him some news first.

"There's another reason," the same voice in his head responded.

Shut up, he told it. Are you the devil or the angel on my shoulder?

The voice smiled back. It had Reddington's smug little smile.

The Doctor who had taken Reddington into another room off the hallway charged back out and began loudly calling for the attention of everyone in spanish. He pointed to different people in turn, demanding something. Most people shrugged or shook their heads, but some responded with at least one letter of the alphabet and Ressler understood that.

"A…".

"AB…".

He charged to his feet and quickly advanced to the doctor. "Blood types? Is that what you're asking for? Blood types??! I'm B negative!"

Ressler proffered his arm and slapped the inside of his elbow. "B negative! We're a match! We've done a blood transfer before!"

"Yes, yes!" The doctor grabbed his arm and ushered him into the room where Reddington lay on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was over his face, a brace around his neck, a heart monitor was beeping threadily, and a battered looking portable x-ray machine was being maneuvered over him by two nurses.

Ressler was ushered into a chair next to Reddington, and in short order Resslers blood was trailing through an IV tube into Reddington's arm. The beep of the heart monitor became stronger, more certain of itself. Red's chest began to noticeably rise and fall, something that Ressler hadn't been able to see out in that field.

The nurses finished their scans of Reddington's body and left. They were suddenly alone in the small, cramped room together, with the beep of the monitors and the ticking of a large wall clock. Resslers slow, controlled blood loss was combining with jet lag, and taking its effect on him. He felt drowsy and light, as if he was floating. He found himself looking over at his long-time nemesis, battered and bloodied, unconscious beside him. What a long road this had been. There had been so much loss. Liz. Where did it all end?

There were things he should be doing, like making that phone call. Why wasn't he?

"It'll limit your options. Wait. No one knows but you."

Son of a bitch. It out and out sounded like Reddington in his head now.

He drifted for a bit, not the least bit comfortable with deciding not to decide. Wait and see. Wait for the doctor. Ignore the fact that Red's condition should have nothing to do with Resslers' job.

The doctor returned, going to the wall and turning on a light board. He put up an x-ray of Reddington's skull, and began talking and gesturing to it. When he paused to look back at Ressler, he took in the other man's complete lack of comprehension. After a moment of hesitation, the doctor pointed to Reddington's nose area on the x-ray. He held out his fist horizontally, with the thumb extended to the side. Then he turned his fist so that the thumb was pointed up. He pointed to the area on the x-ray over Reddington's left eye, another place that was still bloody on Reddington's face. Again he started with the thumb extended to the side, and turned his fist so that the thumb was part way up.

"Ok, I got it. Injured, but not so bad."

The doctor put up another x-ray, and pointed his finger down the spine, continuing to talk, but not stopping there. Red's ribs and left forearm each got a big thumbs down, not that Ressler needed that interpretation. He could see for himself the shattered bones in the image. He shifted in his seat, registering his own sore ribs, thanks to Red's marksmanship just days ago. He didn't want to think about that. The voice in the back of his head had been all too convincingly suggesting that in Red's shoes, Ressler would have had to pull the trigger on Hudson himself.

The doctor moved on to an x-ray of Reddington's pelvis, but after just a moment he took it down again. He began flipping through the folder of x-rays in his hands, muttering to himself. He took the X-ray of the pelvis, and compared the numbers on it to the numbers on several of the other x-rays. He seemed confused. Then he left the room.

Donald waited, blinking hard and trying to shake off the faint dizziness. The clock on the wall told him it had been just over an hour since he had first found Reddington in that field.

The doctor returned with a younger woman, in different colored, more decorative scrubs. He put the pelvis X-ray back on the wall, and pointed at it accusingly, seemingly demanding something from the woman. She took the X-ray down, and again compared the numbers on it to the other x-rays. Then she put it back up, gesturing to it and speaking in a deliberately reasonable tone of voice. The doctor cut her off heatedly, gesturing to Reddington and back to the x-ray.

"What's going on?" Ressler leaned forward in his chair, reminding them of his presence.

"Ah. English." The woman spoke haltingly. She pointed at Reddington. "Friend?"

He stared hard at her for a moment. Then raised his fist horizontally, with his thumb out to the side.

"Ah," she replied, though her expression was clearly confused. She pointed to the X-ray, and then pointed to Reddington, and fumbled for the english words. "...tr….uhm…g…ch, change?"

He looked at her blankly, and shook his head that he didn't understand.

She turned back to the light board, and moved Reddington's pelvis x-ray to the side. She shuffled through a folder of x-rays in her own hands, and put up two more x-rays, both of them pelvises. She pointed to the first one, which was longer, narrower, with a smaller oval in the center, mostly taken up by the tail end of the spine. Then with the same hand she reached down and seemingly grabbed her crotch, Michael Jackson style. Ressler blinked, hard, and leaned back, baffled.

The woman pointed to the second new x-ray, where the pelvis was shorter, wider, and had a larger oval in the middle with far less of the tail of the spine showing in it. She then pointed to her midsection, and with her arm drew the shape of a pregnancy belly in the air in front of her.

"Yeah, I do know that. Men and women have different shaped pelvises." Basic forensics had been a long time ago, and he'd never had to make the identification himself, but in theory he could.

The woman slid the two x-rays apart, and popped Reddington's in between them. Then her finger shifted back and forth between all three.

Reddington's x-ray was in between, literally and descriptively. Wider, but also taller. A larger oval, with less tail bone in it. The areas that made the pelvis look taller had different levels of brightness on the outer edges, which Ressler knew from looking at his own x-rays over the years denoted bone growth.

But that large oval in the center, with the small amount of tailbone. That was distinctive.

"No," he said. He pointed at the X-ray, pointed at Reddington, and shook his head. "That's not his x-ray. Obviously."

The woman also pointed to the X-ray and to Reddington, and nodded her head insistently. She took the pelvis x-ray down, and lined it up in her hand with the skull x-ray, the arm x-ray, and x-rays of Reds clearly broken leg after it. She pointed to the upper right corner where the numbers were, and Donald could clearly see that the numbers were sequential. Each x-ray changing by only one number. The pelvis x-ray belonged in the middle of the bunch. He stared in confusion.

The doctor spoke up again, sounding annoyed and arrogant. The woman slapped the pelvis X-ray back up, drawing her finger around the oval in the center emphatically. She pointed to tiny, long-healed cracks that showed around the oval, speaking to the doctor sharpley, and again drawing the pregnant belly in the air in front of her. She pointed at Reddington, threw her hands up in finality, and stalked out of the room.

There was an awkward silence. Then the doctor shuffled his files, stared at the floor, and left.

Ressler sat alone again in the room with Reddington, looking at the X-ray in confusion and dizziness. A group of nurses came, bringing him some orange juice. They quickly and efficiently cut off most of Red's clothing, put his arm in a cast, and bound his leg in a brace. They elevated the bed and carefully supported Red's unconscious upper body as they wrapped his ribs.

Red's entire upper back and the backs of his upper arms were covered in burn scars.

"My father died in a fire when I was 4. He was fighting with my mother. I think Reddington was there."

Liz.

"He killed your mother right in front of you, you tried to kill him for it. Why are you forgiving him now?"

She hadn't answered him, that last time that he spoke to her, in his hospital bed just hours before she died. He never did learn why she backed down on going after Reddington for the seemingly unforgivable act of killing Liz's mother.

But there was that letter that Dembe had given to Elizabeth when he wasn't supposed to. It had seemed to cause such a rift between Red and Dembe. A secret, THE secret, revealed to Liz, finally, on the last day of her life.

Donald Ressler was not by any means stupid or slow. That damn voice in the back of his head was putting the pieces together, but the rest of him was resisting. He looked at the man in front of him, whom he'd been chasing for 15 years. It couldn't be, could it? It just wasn't possible, Reddington was far from being celibate. Someone would know, someone would talk.

"CRISPER gene editing was in use 20 years before anybody thought it was. Men can be implanted with uteruses and carry babies to term. Hooker robots. What exactly isn't possible, Donald?"

No. Not this. It couldn't be.

Alexander Kirk let Reddington go. Reddington would never say why.

Damn it, it fit. It fit so perfectly. It explained every. Damn. Thing. Why Reddington would give his very life to protect Liz, why he forgave her, and only her, every single time.

What the hell?! What the actual hell was he going to do with this??! It just couldn't be right!

A ringing cell phone made him jump, and he fumbled for his pocket one handed before realizing it was coming from the pile of Reddington's clothing nearby.

Shaken, he flipped open the basic phone, seeing the identifying name come up at the same time that the call became active.

Agnes.

"Pinky??! Pinky!!"

Away from the speaker for a moment; "He picked up! I told you! Pinky?? Pinky, say something! PINKY!!" She was escalating into higher panic with every plea.

Agnes. His goddaughter. That bright, beautiful little girl that was the last surviving piece of Liz.

"Not the last, Donald."

He cleared his throat, and spoke her name, in a voice that was clearly not the one she wanted to hear.

"NO! NO, I WANT PINKY! SAY SOMETHING PINKY, PLEASE!! " She was screaming now, and he could hear Cooper in the background, sounding tearful himself, trying to calm her.

Agnes and her Pinky were so close. Closer than Red and Liz had ever been. And he might actually be her Grand….oh god. The implications of it swirled around his brain. Even the lowest criminal, if they qualified as human at all, they couldn't not love their kids. Jesus, no wonder. Now it all made such terrible, tragic sense. Liz. Reddington should have told her.

"Cooper…Agnes, listen…" he tried to cut through her hysteria.

"Ah…nez…" Resslers' head snapped around at the muffled voice. Reddington, one eye flickering slightly, the other swollen shut, was trying to lean his head within the neck brace towards the phone.

"Hang on", he told them all, and pulled Red's oxygen mask just slightly offside, to hold the phone to his face.

"Ag..ness?"

"Pinky??! Is that you??!"

"Izz me…Izz you?"

"Oh God, oh God. Pops said a bull attacked you. He said you were dead! I told him I'd just talked to you!" She'd settled into sobbing her words out.

"Well zaz bullshi'. Heh. We gonna have burgers nex' time."

Bloody, bruised, and bound, Raymond Reddington still managed one of those little grins. Asshole.

"I love you so much, Pinky. Please come home. Don't stay away, just come home."

"Love you, see you zoon."

Ressler took the phone back, and clearly so did Cooper.

"Donald? What the hell??"

"Sorry, I..I really thought he was gone. Then I had to get him help…"

"I had to wait for Dembe to be sedated before I could come home. God, I've got to go back and tell him."

"Yeah. Cooper?"

"Yes?"

"…. I didn't call anyone. I'm here on my own."

There was a long pause of understanding.

"…. You're far from home Donald. Way out of our jurisdiction. I don't know what you can or can't do, or what you want to do. I only know what I would do in your place. I never want to hear her like that again."

"No. Me either."

"This isn't a bureau phone, Donald. This conversation didn't happen. The last one we had earlier, when you did call on a bureau phone, stands."

Ressler closed Reddington's phone.

Red was watching him out of one bleary eye, which seemed more alert by the second. He noticed the IV of blood connecting them.

"Full circle?"

"10 years…not that I really think I ever owed you anything. Except maybe a goodby."

He looked down, not sure where to go from here. He had committed to a course of action with Coopers unspoken consent and support. He was going to take no action at all.

There was no reason for him to stay here now. He could walk out, and Raymond Reddington would remain dead to all the world, with one hell of a tall tale about how he'd died gone out into the world, via the FBI.

Red watched him, picking up the situation easily. Softly, he asked; "Why?"

Red waited, the silence pregnant with tension.

Donald didn't know what to say. He wanted to talk, he wanted to question, and he wanted to forget.

"What…what is Agnes's blood type?"

"Why would you…." Red's working eye had finally managed to focus behind Ressler, to the light board on the wall, where the image of his own pelvis was brightly lit. He was quiet for a minute, and then spoke slower more carefully than he had before.

"I knew how you felt about 'lizabeth, before she did. Before you did. I knew if I said anything good, she'd run the other way."

"So you made fun of me for eight years? Gee, thanks. Why'd you keep it up?"

"Habit. I wish you a good life, Donald."

"Yeah, you too. Red."

The end.

Note; The show is over. They can't say this didn't happen.