The Architect. [The Blacklist. Donald Ressler X Oc]

Detox.

Ressler.

Now it was a problem. Now it downed on me, now that Liz was standing in front of me, holding my pills as I sat in the back of an ambulance.

I was up in Sitka following a lead, and up until this point everything had been normal.

Only it wasn't, I had purposely injured myself to get more pills while on an assignment.

The pill withdrawal had only been of a few hours before I began to feel the symptoms. My hands shook, I was loosing reflexes, sweating. This thing had put my life in danger.

I had lied to get pills numerous times, I stole pills from Maggie, the first person I always thought to protect and now I had hurt. Everything that wasn't related to the case was related on how was I going to make it through the day with just one bottle.

And now, it downed on me. I was an addict to these fucking things.

I had been taking them for Audrey, my leg pain was inexistent. I hadn't been through so much perils at work. This was the case that probably had me beat up the most.

I hated the person I had become, a junkie, waiting for my next fix. Only because I couldn't deal with the pain of loosing Audrey, I couldn't move past her.

Liz sat next to me, her hand on my shoulder as I sunk, deeper into my own shoulders.

I was done, if the bureau found out about this... Theres nothing else after this, after this job.

Unluckily, I had no one else to turn to but Maggie. She was the only person with who I could talk about my demons, my weak spots.

I hadn't even gone back to my place after Sitka, I got off the plane into a cab and straight for her place.

I needed to get clean, and I needed her to push me through it, or I wasn't going to make it.

It was two AM when I rang on her doorbell, she rung me up and every step up to her place was agony. My chest hurt, I wanted to cry, to scream, to hit myself in the face for being an idiot.

The door opened before I could pound on it and there she was. Loyalty in the shape of a woman.

She looked at me with sad eyes, hugging her bathrobe on her chest, below it she had a silk nightgown.

I leaned on the doorframe and looked to the floor, I was hating this very moment, I was hating myself for dragging her further into my shit.

"I have an oxy addiction"

Reluctantly, I looked up at her, she silently nodded at me

"I know" she muttered. Then she took my arm and pulled me into her place. She made me sit down in one of her chairs and sat down next to me. "Listen Donald" she took both my hands and squeezed them "admitting this doesn't make you weaker, or any less of a man. It takes a great deal of courage to come forward with your pain. Unfortunately if you don't deal with your shit, your shit deals with you. Do you want to deal with this shit?"

I had been avoiding her stare, but she was having none of it. She took me by the chin and turned my head to the side, to stare directly at her