The Blacklist Secret Santa

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Raymond Reddington/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Raymond Reddington, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon Summary:

there’ll be happiness after you / but there was happiness because of you / both of these things can be true / there is happiness

Raymond Reddington falls in love.

Raymond Reddington falls out of love.

@takadasaiko​ Here’s your Secret Santa Gift! Enjoy!

Consequences

Strange how easy it was to take as commonplace things that once would have been considered unattainable luxuries. The girl who would one day become Scottie Hargrave would have never dared to dream of the high-rise the woman would call home. Not the closet of couture, not the priceless art adorning the wall, and not even the Egyptian cotton sheets that currently wrapped around her body like a decadent cocoon. Even ten years ago, long after she’d accepted such possessions as her due, the deep slumber she’d been experiencing would have been an indulgence completely beyond her reach. A decade later she’d come to expect a peaceful night’s rest. That was why, when she jolted awake, she knew instantly something had to be wrong.

Instinctively her hand flew to her nightstand for her gun. It wasn’t there. Of course. Scottie had locked it away in preparation for her granddaughter’s extended visit. Her gaze swept the room for the presence she sensed there. Sure enough, sitting in a chair ten feet away was a still figure assessing her with icy consideration. Scottie’s heart leapt in her chest as her mind flew back decades in time. Katarina. It couldn’t be.

The woman leaned forward and the moonlight from the window partly illuminated her face. Scottie released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not Katarina. Masha, or rather Elizabeth, as she preferred to be called. Of course. That made far more sense than a ghost. Strange to have mistaken one for the other. Despite their relationship, mother and daughter looked very little alike. It was only now and then that something in Elizabeth’s posture or expression brought a flash of bittersweet recognition. 

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?” It had been weeks since she’d last seen her daughter-in-law, since Elizabeth had elected to go to war with Raymond Reddington over the murder of her mother. Pain shot through Scottie as she remembered that phone call. Elizabeth had explained what had happened. Katarina Rostova had miraculously returned from the dead, only to be murdered by the concierge of crime. 

Scottie had been so shocked, she didn’t know how she’d managed to absorb the rest of the details. Why hadn’t Katarina reached out? Scottie would have helped. Katarina had to have known that. Elizabeth hadn’t realized the impact of the information she was imparting. She’d merely been explaining why she needed Scottie to care for Agnes for an extended period of time.     

“So many things.” Eyes finally adjusting to the dark room Scottie suddenly focused on the gun Elizabeth was casually resting on her thigh. Adrenaline flooded the older woman’s system.

“Elizabeth, why do you have that gun?” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side in an uncanny imitation of Raymond Reddington. 

“Family is a funny concept isn’t it? I share blood with Agnes. Agnes shares blood with you. Suddenly I’m willing to turn my child over to a woman who shot up a church on my wedding day. Who tried to have me kidnapped. Who had my husband tortured.” Scottie could hear the quiet rage unlaying every word. Sins that had been forgiven, if not forgotten now blistered in her ears. Still, Elizabeth couldn’t claim superiority on every front. People in glass houses, as the saying went, shouldn’t throw stones.

“I’m not the only person in this room to have done that, if I recall. Tom forgave both of us-” 

Elizabeth raised her weapon so that it was now pointing directly between Scottie’s eyes. If she squeezed the trigger, that was it. At this range there was no way Katarina’s daughter would miss.

“Don’t you say his name!” There was so much anger and grief Scottie felt, for a moment, a twinge of shame. It was a novel experience to say the least. Still, she wasn’t such a hypocrite that she would apologize. If she’d had the choice, she knew she’d do it all over again.   

“You know.” When Elizabeth had first awoken from her coma, Scottie had feared discovery. She imagined Elizabeth might refuse to accept that her husband was gone. That she might have gone digging and uncovered the truth. Elizabeth hadn’t, probably because Harold Cooper had been a witness to “Tom’s” corpse. Reddington, she might have disbelieved, but not the assistant director of the FBI. That the truth should surface now, after so much time had passed was surprising. 

“I found Dr. Selma Orchard.” That explained it. The war with Raymond had pushed Elizabeth to dig more fiercely that she had before. Of course she’d reach out to Orchard. Scottie kicked herself for not having anticipated it. 

“I see.” She’d hidden the good doctor well, but Elizabeth was an FBI agent with all the resources that entailed. Scottie could easily image Orchard slightly relaxing her guard after years had passed. It wouldn’t have taken much.

“How?” Scottie had expected this question. What she’d achieved under the noses of the FBI AND Raymond Reddington was quite remarkable. If it hadn’t caused her so much pain, she might even be proud of herself.

“Tom called me before he got home. My people arrived just after Reddington. They followed you to the hospital. Tom flat-lined on the table, but they were able to resuscitate. Once he stabilized, I got him out. A few bribes. Doctored surveillance footage. The body Cooper saw was a German arms dealer surgically altered to look like Tom down to every last scar and faded tattoo.” She’d gotten the idea from the Independence, USA mission Tom himself had been a part of. Without that body there was no way Reddington would have believed Tom was really dead.

Elizabeth shook her head angrily, not in the mood apparently to be impressed. Scottie couldn’t exactly blame her.

“Not ‘how did you pull it off?’. I don’t CARE how you pulled it off. I meant ‘How could you do this?’ To me. To Agnes! You stole MY HUSBAND! You stole HER FATHER!” Now Scottie felt herself becoming angry. She “stole” him?! As if Scottie didn’t have as much, if not more of a claim on Tom. As if it were Scottie’s fault that Tom had nearly died. As if it was for Scottie that Tom had put himself in mortal jeopardy.

“I SAVED your husband. I SAVED Agnes’ father. I SAVED MY SON!” Scottie took a deep breath. She didn’t blame Elizabeth. Not really. Not for being angry. Not for Tom’s nearly fatal wounds. She hadn’t chosen to be born into the web of danger and deceit any more than Tom had. “This wasn’t some maniacal plan I hatched to cause you pain. Tom was in a coma. You were in a coma. I didn’t know when or if either of you would wake up. When I faked his death, I was only thinking of protecting him from the people who came after him and from Reddington.

It was only after I’d had him that I realized the truth. Tom would never be safe with you, even without knowing Reddington’s secret. There is nowhere the two of you could run that he wouldn’t find you. The same with Agnes. Reddington would NEVER let either of you go.” As a mother, she had had no choice. She wouldn’t let her boy die. Not again. Not when she could save him.

“And so you decided to take him away from both of us.” Scottie sighed. Elizabeth still didn’t understand. She hadn’t been the only one who’d lost him.

“Tom Keen would never leave his wife and child not for any reason. But Jacob Phelps was a survivor. He could be reasoned with.” With Orchard’s help she had rolled her son back to an earlier version. Someone who could be trusted to act in his own self interest, rather than that of his family.

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. I told him he’d had a violent falling out with Bill McCready a few years ago. That he’d recently started working for me. That Raymond Reddington wanted him dead and very nearly got his wish. That he had the funds to start over anywhere in the world he chose.” The memories were there, carefully edited by Orchard’s skill, and any gaps easily explained by the trauma he’d suffered.

“You didn’t tell him you’re his mother?” Scottie swallowed, recalling having to make that decision. There had been a time, a too brief time, when she’d seen a look in her son’s eyes. Love for her, for his mother. Quite the contrast to the wary expression the last time she’d seen them.

“No. I couldn’t risk it. He may have wanted to stay in contact. So you see, I didn’t do anything to you I didn’t do to myself.” If Scottie had expected sympathy, she was destined for disappointment. The look Elizabeth gave her now was pure contempt.

“Yes, you did. You let me think he was dead. You let me think Tom was dead because of me.” Scottie swallowed the retort about how that had very nearly been the case. That wouldn’t help the situation.

“Agnes was kidnapped when she was a baby. You went months without knowing if she was alive or dead. You have had a taste of what it feels like to lose your child. I had already buried my son once. I could not endure it again.” There it was, as much of an apology as she was capable of making. A plea, mother to mother, for Elizabeth understanding, if not forgiveness. She studied the FBI agent’s face and thought she detected, just for a moment, a softening of expression. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Where is he?” Scottie shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth raised the gun in silent threat. “You can shoot me, but it won’t change my answer. I didn’t want to live with the temptation.” Would Elizabeth shoot her? Scottie was still Tom’s mother. Agnes was still down the hall. Elizabeth’s thoughts seemed to follow a similar path as she glanced to the door. Her lips tightened as she stood. A decision had been made.

“I’m going to find him.” Scottie briefly closed her eyes. Why had her son married such a stubborn woman? 

“He’s not the same man you knew.” It was a desperate bid, but it was also the truth. Elizabeth had only ever known a man who loved her. Who’d wanted her enough to risk death to be with her. 

“And I’m not the same woman. It doesn’t matter. He still deserves the truth. He deserves to be able to make his own choices. Something neither you, nor Reddington can seem to grasp.” The comparison stung especially in light of recent events.

“Then I hope you can live with the consequences.” She gazed after Elizabeth, eyes following her through the door and lingering there long after. There was no point in laying back down. Sleep would not come for her again tonight. Instead her mind raced with all the things she had done, and all the things she had yet to do to save her son. 

Merry Christmas, @aussieokie! I hope you enjoy some injured Ressler and worried Red! 

@theblacklistsecretsanta

Sending out the very best wishes for a wonderful festive season to @reddingtonsplace. I am your Blacklist Secret Santa and I offer you a brand new Lizzington fic which I sincerely hope you enjoy. It’s chock full of flirting, Christmas-related fluff and an eventful undercover operation.

Thanks, as always, to the organisers of this event. I look forward to it every year and really appreciate the effort you put in to facilitate so much great new content.

Now, on with the story!

Title: Precious Time by Melacka

Rating: T (for suggestive comments only)

Word Count: 2210

Summary: Red had been so wired after their little undercover jaunt that when he returned to the safe house he couldn’t think of anything but Lizzy. He knew that if he left her to her own devices at this critical juncture, the most likely outcome was that she would turn herself inside out trying to rationalise her actions and then seek to distance herself. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not this time.

Or, after an untimely interruption halts an intimate moment undercover, Red seeks Liz out to talk it over.

You can read it on AO3 here or keep reading below.

Good morning and Merry Christmas, @blacklister214! I’m your secret santa this year! I hope you’re having a fantastic Christmas and that you enjoy  :D

FFN II AO3

—

Home for Christmas

Her day had been set. It would start with kissing her daughter goodbye and sending her to a playdate as Liz used one of her rare days off to turn the apartment into a Christmas wonderland. She had plans. Lights and tinsel and stockings, elves sitting on a new surface every morning and dozens of meticulously wrapped Christmas presents under a tree that reached to the ceiling that made Agnes squirm in anticipation to open them. Just like Liz had as a little girl. She couldn’t remember Christmas with her mother - there was a good chance that they didn’t celebrate it in any way that was at all traditional - and she only had a fractured memory of picking out a tree with her father one year, but Sam had bent over backwards to make it special, and this year, after everything, Liz wanted Agnes to remember this as one of her favourites.  She had been digging through Christmas ornaments to find one of the few that had lasted through all the years and all the chaos, her fingers latching onto the little gingerbread man that Tom had pieced together along with his third graders a couple of  lifetimes ago, when her phone had rung.

The senator’s life is in danger.

Six words had brought her Christmas plans to a crashing halt. She should have been wrapping presents, not listening to Reddington dance around the fact that didn’t actually care about Senator Calloway himself, it was the team hired to kidnap him that he was after. After a heated conversation he had admitted that they had taken some people of his overseas and he needed them back. Two birds, one stone, Liz’s Christmas plans be damned.

But it wasn’t like they could just turn down the case with the New York senator’s life on the line.

At least he had had time to get his decorations up. Liz let out a low whistle as she looked up at the beautifully decorated home with its holly covered gates and snow lined driveway, and she tried to push down at the agitation. In and out. All they had to do was get Calloway to a safe location. If Red wanted the kidnappers, he’d have to get them himself. That wasn’t and couldn’t be their goal. This needed to be quick.

“She won’t even remember it, Keen,” Ressler offered as they worked their way up the icy driveway.

“That’s the point, I want her to remember it, and not because something insane happened.” After everything they had been through, they all deserved a good Christmas.

P.S. this is only the first chapter. I will post more soon on FFN.

Merry Christmas!! @tbhwhocaresanymore. I’m your Secret Santa. I hope you and your family are well. I wrote your a Keenler fanfic and I hope you enjoy it.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year.

Here below you can find your gift.

Hi @mickeymckeown, I’m your Secret Santa for this year!

I wrote a short Red and Ressler fic for you, with some Ressler whump, of course!

Read it on FFN here

Read it on AO3 here

Keen + Ressler - Seasons 1 - 8

You won’t stay angry with me. I know you think you will, but you won’t. Parents don’t stay angry with their children. Or their grandchildren. And that’s who you are to us. It doesn’t matter who you were. This is who you are and who you’ll always be. ~ Elizabeth Keen

Merry Christmas @aomine-dajki -  I’m your Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this Keenler Christmas/New Years fic that I wrote for you! You can find it here:

New Beginnings 

FFN // AO3