Blurred To Indigo

4: The Way Things Go

True to their words, the agents returned three days later. Red had told them that he wouldn't be communicating with any of the agents, other than Agent Keen. He claimed to need space from them, deeming the close proximity of Agent Ressler antagonising and Red had already suffered enough. Madeline had returned earlier than expected, with Red's private jet being planned to take off at certain parts of the weekend in case she was ready to return. He hadn't expected for her to return in the early hours of the next day. With the lack of agents being around, he knew it gave Madeline space to relax without having to deal with the agents too. Dembe was sent to do a few things, to wrap up certain tasks, so no one went in and no one came out of Red's hotel room.

He knew Ressler would be watching him like a hawk despite the instruction to stand back. And Red knew Lizzie would be preoccupied with the loss of her father to comprehend all that was going on, which wasn't a whole lot.

Red cared for Madeline, a way of him to apologise to her for asking her to do the unthinkable. He ensured she ate, albeit small amounts or as much as she could stomach; ordered in some of her favourite things from her apartment, books she enjoyed reading which still remained in the box, her mother's perfume that she sprayed on her pillow to sleep, which she seemed to do a whole lot of since she arrived at his room; offered her the space she needed, allowing the quiet to pass over them, and was there to comfort her when the emotion hit her like a freight train; and bathed and washed her hair.

Other than that, she slept a lot. The emotional turmoil wrecking everything she stood for now, and he had been the . He knew he needed to investigate why she shut down emotionally, from everything, and even him. Months before she left that world behind, it had been happening , where she would shut herself off from the entire world and him after each job, which made the decision to escape those chains a welcoming relief. It was as if she disassociated from being herself when she had to turn on that switch of being the assassin she'd been trained to be.

All he could do was to be there for her when she needed him, and for a moment, they had all the time in the world.

..

"You're back," Ressler noted as he entered the hotel room to find Madeline sitting on the couch. Red was sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper, allowing it to cover the roll of his eyes at the mere sound of the agent's voice. As Ressler strolled further into the room, he observed the way Madeline, who had previously retorted at anything he would've said, remained silent at his comment. She was slumped into the material of the chair, a cushion held close to her. "We weren't expecting you until 6. Don't tell me you have a curfew."

Red lowered his newspaper, his gaze moving between Ressler and Madeline, then focused in on the agent. His intense stare hardened. "She lost a patient last night."

Ressler, with immediate regret flashing across his face, turned to Madeline. "I'm so sorry. I—"

She dismissed his comment with a small smile. Ressler wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole. Red looked behind him expectantly then furrowed his brow, disappointedly.

"Ah, where's Lizzie? I have another case for you," Red stated, folding the newspaper and placing it neatly on the table.

Ressler sighed. "Well, she unfortunately won't be around for a couple of days... personal reasons."

"Oh?" Red asked, tipping his head.

"Her dad died last night," Ressler responded, immediately regretting giving that much information to Reddington. "She's been granted immediate leave until further notice."

Madeline watched the exchange from her seat. "Please give her my condolences."

Ressler nodded, thankful. "I was going to say, you know... we came to visit you at the hospital multiple times, and you were never seen," Ressler said, his voice low. "Every single time I would ask one of the staff to see you, they would always tell me you were busy, or with a patient. Or that you were at home before your next shift. And you never answered the door when we came by your apartment."