#the backlist

Liz was talking as she entered. "Agnes has gotten into this thing where she wants to mismatch shoes. They're not even shoes that make sense. One tennis shoe and one of her rain boots this morning. I don't know what that kid is thinking," she laughed and stopped where Ressler and Aram were standing next to Aram's work station, the video feeds up. "You guys are in early. Where's Tom?"

Ressler drew in a breath that he didn't feel like steadied him nearly as much as it should. "We don't know."

That stopped Liz, her smile instantly dissipating. "What do you mean?"

Aram made a nervous sound behind him, but Ressler was the one to answer. "His handler called to set a meet."

"And he went? You let him go? Ressler-"

"We backed him up!" Aram interjected, pulling her attention around to him. Ressler saw him take a hesitant step back at the look he received.

"What did you not understand about this woman being good at what she does? She single-handedly took down all of Tolliver's people from the building next to the one we were in through the window. He shouldn't have been -"

"He was fine, Liz," Ressler snapped. "This wasn't our first sting. Any of us."

"Then where the hell is he?"

Ressler took half a beat, desperate to pull his own temper into check. He knew she wasn't happy, he knew that she was scared, but she knew him. She should know that he wasn't going to put the man she loved in harm's way without backup. Finally, he met her gaze and chose each word he spoke with care. "Tremblay said something. Before you ask, I don't know what. Either she or Tom cut the feed."

"The feed. You wired him up?"

"It was a watch…." Aram tried and Ressler looked back at him. He really was not helping.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I did."

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. He watched the rage build and the fear in her eyes sharpened like daggers in his direction. "You should have called back!" she shouted, taking an aggressive step towards him. "Now he's gone and I…" She loosed a frustrated sound, balling her fists and pressing pressing the heels of her hands against her temples. "You've called him?"

"Aram tried tracing his phone first off," Ressler said, his voice a little softer this time. "Liz…. he was freaked out. He'd been dreaming earlier, he's dealing with screwed up memories that someone might have done to him…. He'll be back."

"You don't know that."

"No," he huffed, "but I bet you do."

She sniffed hard. "I have to find him. Call me if there's a break in the case."

"Yeah." He watched as she walked out, her rage following her.

"She'll fund him, right?" Aram asked softly.

"For her sake I hope so."

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She shouldn't have yelled at Ressler, she knew. He'd had her back all through this and before in ways that she often felt like she didn't deserve, but the terror had swept through her with more force than Liz had been prepared for. In that moment, hearing that Tom had run, she had lost her chance. She had been certain of it. There would be no other chance. There would only be knowing what she'd lost and never getting it back. It was a stretch, she knew somewhere under the panic. He'd walked when she'd found him with Tolliver just a handful of days before and had come back on his own, but fear didn't always need logic to back it. Sometimes there was just fear and it swallowed her up and dragged her under.

Liz's mind raced a million miles a minute as she fumbled with her car keys and sped right back out of the Post Office parking structure, unsure of where she was going. Where should she look? Everything that meant something to him in this town was part of what he'd forgotten.

Her phone rang, echoing over the bluetooth that had automatically connected and she risked a look to see Nick's Pizza flash across the screen as the incoming call. She nearly declined it, but there was a chance he had heard about Tolliver's demise. If so, and if she didn't answer, he'd send the cavalry after her. That was the last thing she needed right then.

She clicked the accept button. "Yeah?"

"Elizabeth! I hope I didn't wake you," came the chipper, familiar voice from the other end of the line. Well, if he knew Tolliver was dead, he wasn't going to lead with that.

And she sure as hell wasn't going to volunteer the information. "Yeah, hitting the ground running on this Collector case. Killing him made piecing everything else together a lot harder," she said pointedly.

Reddington let loose a long suffering sigh that Liz felt much more entitled to than he should. "I'm calling with an olive branch."

"Oh, what kind?" she asked as she took a turn down a street, still unsure exactly where she was driving to.

"The kind that comes with a name in the ledger that I recognized. She was part of the East German faction of the Cabal when it was active. It appears she endeared herself to her Western counterpart in some way, shape, or form. Not surprising, really."

"You going to tell me the name or do I have to guess?"

"Do you get enough sleep? They say seven to nine hours is ideal, but I've found -"

"The name, Reddington," Liz snapped. She was starting to recognize her surroundings and she hoped to anything or anyone that might be listening that maybe she was right.

"Emilia Schmitz."

Liz snorted. "See? You can be direct. I have to go." She didn't let him argue as she ended the call, pulling into the sparsely occupied parking lot. This park tended to see more stay-at-home moms with their kids, so with the exception of a couple of joggers that were taking advantage of the space it was empty.

Joggers and a lone figure hunched over and sitting on a picnic table near the swings. Her panicked brain might not have been able to come up with where he might go, but at least her subconscious had been able to cut through it. Apparently his had too.

Liz stepped out of her vehicle and started towards the figure. The early morning light highlighted the smoke curling up from the nearly-finished cigarette hanging from his fingers and he was turned so that he couldn't see her, his gaze watching the urban park.

"You used to bring Agnes here."

She didn't miss the small jump at her voice and he turned, blinking owlishly at her, and then his muscles seemed to relax. "Did I?"

"Yeah. It was the closest one to the apartment. You swore she loved it."

"She had to be little."

"She was."

"Then she didn't love it."

Liz felt her lips tug just a little at the corners. "You thought she did." She motioned at the table he was perched on and he nodded, scooting over to give her room to take a seat next to him.

He flicked the butt of his cigarette out and the embers sparked off of the concrete. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

The question was sharp and Liz found the answer lost somewhere deep in her throat, unable to make its way from her lips before he huffed in irritation.

"I'm not him."

"Who?"

"Your Tom."

"Why do you say that?"

He rolled his eyes a little at the soft question and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Because she was right. I'm an operative. I play parts. Whatever you thought you saw, whatever I thought I was…. It was all fake. It's always fake."

"That's not true," Liz managed and reached out, her fingers ghost against his, but he snapped his hand away.

"It is. You have no idea what I've done these last couple years. Who I've been. I've used people, I've killed. I did whatever I needed to do to get the job done. Never mattered. Never worried about it. Whatever I was for you was what you wanted, not who I am." He grimaced a little, his eyes focused on his boots. "When I didn't remember you, I was just an operative. Nothing else."

He hadn't left his seat on the table, even if he'd pulled away from her, but she could see how every muscle was taught with stress. His hand that she'd tried to take was flexing open and closed in an old sign of agitation and Liz drew in a deep breath, snapping out so that he didn't have time to pull away. She laced her fingers through his and closed around them tightly. "Look at me." She waited until he did and he looked so lost in that moment. She tightened her hold and reached up to cup his chin. "Experiences make us who we are. You've lost the memory of those experiences, not what they've done. You're you. Yeah, you're an operative. A damn good one that can make anyone think he's anybody, but under all that you're still you." She held his gaze, his own words echoing in her mind and she let them fall from her lips. "I don't care what you've done, I know who you are."

"What if you're wrong?" he whispered, his voice desperate and more than a little broken.

"I'm not. I promise you I'm not. You just have to trust me."

He stared at her, tears starting to form, and he leaned almost like he was going to kiss her, but he rested his forehead against hers instead. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she breathed, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Did you shoot me?"

A surprised laugh escaped her and she risked a look at him. "Oh. You're serious?"

"Yeah."

There was something strange in his tone, like he was testing something between them. The truth. He was looking for the truth. She offered a look that was more grimace than smile. "I did, but to be fair, you had that same gun at my head before I got away from you."

Tom quirked an eyebrow, looking impressed, though if it was over the honest answer or the fact that she'd managed to snag the gun from him back then, she couldn't be sure. He pushed a breath out through his nose. "We had a weird marriage, didn't we?"

"It took us a while, but we got to a really good place."

He sniffed hard and leaned back in. Her arms immediately went around him and she felt him melt into it. "I trust you. You're the only one that I trust," she heard him say.

Liz held onto him for a long moment before risking a kiss to the side of his head. "Hey, let's go home."

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Jacob felt raw. Exposed. The only thing he felt like was anchoring him was Liz's hand in his as she guided him through the parking lot, to the elevator, and up to the apartment that supposedly they had once shared. Agnes was at school and she could get some work done from there, she explained as she unlocked the door. He looked like he could use a few hours' sleep.

He found himself staring at her as she moved through the apartment, Tremblay's words echoing in his mind.

You didn't have to remember her for me to know that you'd be drawn to her.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice cutting through and pulling him back around.

He opened his mouth, but felt the words die in his throat almost immediately. He had never been particularly talented at sorting through and expressing his own feelings, and right then it was like he was drowning in them. Everyone knew more than he did about his own life. Gina and Tremblay had exploited that, but then there was Elizabeth Keen. Between the life she lived every day, the work she so clearly threw herself into, and what must have been a shock of her own in seeing a man she thought was dead show back up, she had been the only steady point in his chaos. An anchor to keep him from being washed away by it all. She wasn't always calm, but she was gentle and, as far as he could tell, she was honest with him. Hell, if the tables had been turned he wouldn't have admitted to shooting her.

"Tom?" she called out and he blinked hard.

He sucked in an unsteady breath. "Thank you."

"For what?"

He swallowed hard, refusing to let the words get stuck this time. "Being honest with me. Being…." He ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I shouldn't have ghosted on you like that."

Jacob risked a look up and found Liz watching him. She looked as uncertain as he felt. "You fought for me. Again and again, sometimes when I told you not to and definitely when I felt like I didn't deserve it. I'm going to do the same for you, because I'm not willing to lose you again." She leaned forward and he could feel her breath she was so close. "I'm with you on this. You and me. I love you."

There was a long, tense moment. He should pull back, he knew, but he was drawn to her in every way. There was no denying that.

He wasn't sure which of them broke the moment, but all at once they came crashing together. Liz reached a hand up to the back of his neck and he leaned in as she pulled him closer, both willingly deepening the kiss and neither seeming to have the willpower or desire to hit pause on this.

Jacob wrapped his arms around her waist and she shifted to hold on as if she knew he was going to lift her up off the ground. She laughed against him as he carried her further into the apartment and set her down only long enough for her to pull him after her as they toppled onto the couch, her hands tugging clothes away as his kisses moved down her jawline.

"I've missed you," she managed as she shifted to catch him in another kiss.

"I've missed you too."

The words tumbled out without permission and Jacob stopped, pulling back like he'd been struck. Liz stared at him. "What?"

"How can I miss you if I don't remember you?" he managed, hating how small his own voice sounded.

"Because you know me," she whispered and her smile pushed back the fear. She shifted, sliding out from under him, but she caught his hand as she did. She held it, those beautiful blue eyes holding him hostage, and he knew in that moment that he would have done anything for her, even if he couldn't articulate why.

"C'mon," she called softly and pulled him up. The kisses were softer this time, although still a little desperate, as she led him back to the bedroom.

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For the first time in what felt like forever, Jacob's dreams were peaceful. He still didn't hold onto much more than a ghost of a memory as he surfaced, but he could almost feel the weight of a hand in his and the warmth of her lips pressed against his. It felt like home.

Jacob woke up slowly in a bed that he only vaguely recognized as the one that Liz had pulled him into some hours before. The sheets were tangled around his long legs and the pillow was a whole lot softer than he was used to. It made him want to roll over and go back to sleep. He was warm and comfortable and safe.

That didn't mean that he could sleep the whole day away, and if the soft tapping of nails in a keyboard were anything to go by Liz certainly wasn't.

He turned to find the woman in question sitting on the bed next to him - considerably more dressed than she had been when he'd fallen asleep - with her laptop propped up on her lap and focused on what she was working on. She was dressed in a pair of sleeping shorts and a green t-shirt with an apple on the front that was a little big on her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and he found himself reaching forward to touch her, hoping against hope it wouldn't break a dream wide open and erase her face from his memory all over again.

She startled a little at the touch against her leg, but a smile pulled into place. "Hey."

"Hey," he greeted back, his voice raspy from sleep. "Whatcha working on?"

"The case. Reddington gave me a name and I'm running down what I can from here."

"You could have gone in. I wouldn't have gone anywhere."

Her expression tightened just a little and he wondered if she believed him. After a moment she reached over to run a hand through his dark hair and he found himself leaning into the touch. "You slept a good chunk of the day."

"Best sleep I've had in… long as I can remember," he admitted softly. He rolled up to sitting, stretching out stiff muscles and twisting around until his back popped. "When's this kid coming home? I should probably —"

"No, she's staying over at her friend's tonight."

"So we have some time?"

Liz's lips curled up at the corners and she closed her laptop, setting it aside. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she turned back, leaning over him. The kiss was long and filled him with more warmth than he could recall ever feeling, the sensation flooding through him so that he found himself reaching up, fingers ghosting along her face and pulling her gently closer to him.

"I have good news," she murmured after a long moment, finally barely breaking the kiss to speak.

She pulled back and Jacob found himself following her a little, but finally eased back down to the pillow behind him. "Yeah?"

"Dr Orchard called while you were sleeping."

"The memories doctor?"

"Yeah. She's been locked up with another patient, but she wants to meet with you. She thinks she might be able to help."

Jacob straightened at that. "I could get my memories back?"

"Maybe," she said, her tone careful. "If that's what you want."

"More than anything," he answered with a grin and shifted to sitting so he could pull her into another kiss.

He could feel her smile against his lips, her fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and the opposite hand traveling down his ribs, ghosting across the scars there and stopping. She pulled back and held his gaze, fingers lingering there. "Tell me about it."

"About what?"

"Waking up, St Regis, the last two and a half years… everything."

He grimaced. "You don't wanna know."

"It's not your fault. You know that, right? Whoever did this to you, whoever took your memories, it's them. It's on them."

She sounded like she believed it, and Jacob might have even told her exactly what she wanted to know if the sound of the front door's lock sliding out of place hadn't reverberated through the apartment, setting both Keens on edge as the door opened outside of the bedroom.

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TBC

Notes: Look at these two cuties starting to figure things out (only to have an uninvited someone walk into their home). Anyone have a guess as to who it is?