A/N: I know it's been a while and the new season did spike up the desire to write but my life is really all over the place now so I don't have the right mind to write. I feel like this is all over the place, maybe a sort of a sneak peek to my head these days. Would love to know what you think though!
Confidence
Henry walked into the kitchen to find her stirring the pasta sauce. From where he was standing, he could still get a good look at her stitches. It was nothing, not now at least, he kept reminding himself. Truth be told, he was still unable to shake that feeling he had when they sat in the doctor's office and he informed her that it was basal cell carcinoma. Of course, the doctor was quick to reassure them it was nothing and could be removed in a simple procedure, but just the thought of it made his knees weak. They weren't immune to any disease. He was always worried he would lose her during one of her trips abroad; that something would happen to her while she wasn't with him. That was the result of Iran, and perhaps was inflicted by her time in Iraq. But he never took the time to think about the other ways he could lose her. Cancer, for example. Then, in the midst of it all, came the surprising phone call about where they wanted to be buried. Talk about timing, he thought. Her reluctance to make a decision though was what really had him worried. Could she be hiding something from him about her medical condition? Was there something she knew and he didn't? Now that the seed of thought was planted in his mind, he knew there was no way he could let it go. He needed to know, and he needed to know as soon as possible or he would go crazy.
He walked over to her and placed his hand on the small of her back, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Hi, beautiful," he said, and smiled when she met his eyes.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Henry, now is really not the time to use that compliment. Not unless you want me to stop believing you when you say it."
Laughing, he squeezed her side. "I mean it, every single time. Stitches or not, you are beautiful. And I love you."
"I love you too," she said, and pecked his lips.
"Oh, listen," Henry started as he poured the wine into the glasses. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was terrified of how this conversation was going to go. "Clark called me again today to remind me to get back to him about Arlington ASAP, and he mentioned that he reached out to you a few times in the last couple of months, never heard back."
"Must have slipped my mind," she said carelessly.
"Yeah, that's kind of what I figured, and then I thought about it. You were the one that wanted to involve the kids in this. Don't get me wrong, it's a good idea. But it also delayed the Arlington thing, so it's taken out of our hands. Look, I'm not that invested in Arlington, so if you don't want to be there, why don't you just tell me? What is going on? Are you freaked out about the procedure?"
"No," she replied. "I mean, it's over, really."
Henry examined her as the words left her mouth. He knew her like the back of his hand, but Elizabeth was a trained analyst who spent many years lying for a living. If she wanted to hide something from him, she would know how to do it.
"Then what is really going on?" he asked, giving her a chance to provide some other reasonable explanation.
"Every year on the anniversary of my parents' death, I drive up to Black Top Mountain where they got engaged. And I spend the day there, and I find them."
"Yeah. I know. And I think it's a beautiful way to reconnect."
"It's the only way," she said and watched as the realization hit him.
There was a reason she never talked about it with him. With anyone, actually. She didn't even talk about it with Will, didn't know if he had been there or not. She was always afraid that he would judge her, look at her differently. Henry was so invested in visiting his parents' gravesites every single year since they died that she didn't know what he would think about the fact that she had ever done that.
"I've never been to their cemetery, Henry," she spilled out. "I mean, not since the burial. It's just something about their names etched in stone. You know, the horrible finality of it all. I don't..."
"Babe, we're all afraid of dying."
"I'm not afraid of dying, Henry. I'm afraid of losing the people that I love."
He found her just as she emerged from the shower. A towel wrapped around her slim figure, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He watched her as she dressed, learning every curve and mark of her body, as if it was the first time he was seeing them.
When she met him in their bedroom, she offered him a small smile and walked past him, to her side of the bed. They hadn't spoken since what she told him. The kids had just come down for dinner and he hadn't had the chance yet. He still didn't have the answers he was looking for, and it was scaring him. If she had been able to hide the truth about her parents for so long, what else was she hiding? He wasn't mad. He didn't think that she was lying to him. But he had known her for so long, and this was something that he knew she did – shut down, guard herself. Maybe even protect him, he wasn't sure anymore. The thing was, that after all this time, he thought he was able to get her to leave this bad habit aside, that he made her realize that she could trust him, and that he would never hurt her. Tonight, however, he realized that wasn't the case. He realized that it probably didn't matter how many years they'd been together, and how many more were still to come, she would always have secrets, not because she wanted to, but because life taught her to keep the things that could really hurt her to herself.
That thought lingered as he entered the bed next to her and they turned off the lights. The truth about her parents wasn't as big as having a disease that could kill her, and he was starting to wonder if she would ever try to hide something that serious from him.
He sighed as she snuggled closer to him, his arm carelessly wrapping around her, a force of instinct, but his body was tense against hers and she felt it immediately. Leaning against her elbow, she stared down at him, finding his eyes in the dark room. She had become an expert at reading people, and while she hated trying to read him, and using her skills to figure out what he was hiding, she also couldn't avoid it. Because the minute their gazes locked, she was analyzing every minute of their past evening.
"You're mad, aren't you? Because I didn't tell you before," she said.
"I'm not mad," he replied softly, pulling her body closer to his. "I'm sad that you felt like you couldn't trust me with this. And I'm scared that there's more you don't trust me with. Or afraid to tell me. I want you to know that you can tell me everything. I thought you did."
Taken aback by his words, she pulled back a little and blinked. "What do you mean more?" she asked, offended by the insinuation that she was unfaithful.
"The procedure," he said quietly, too afraid to say it out loud.
Squinting her eyes, she wracked her brain for a moment to realize what exactly he was referring to. Truth was, she hadn't had the time to dwell on the whole thing. She was too busy at work to even give it another thought, especially since the doctor insisted that it was nothing. What she didn't realize was that while she had forgotten about it, Henry saw it right in front of him every single day, and that had to cause some questions. And her being distant and secretive probably didn't help either.
"Henry, I told you it's nothing. It really is nothing."
Tears welled in his eyes and she could make them out even in the darkness. This had been weighing on him for a while now, she realized, and her simple reassurance wasn't going to cut it. He needed more from her. Wiping a stray tear with her thumb, she moved closer to him, forcing herself into his embrace. With her leg draped on his, and her arm wrapped around his chest, she leaned closer and slowly kissed him. His hand went in her hair and he pulled her closer to him, his tongue entering her mouth, finding comfort in the warmth of her body against his. For a moment, when they both shared the same air, their lips moving together to some unknown rhythm they'd learned years ago, he was so certain that everything was alright. But as she pulled away, he could see the bumps on her forehead, and was reminded that maybe it wasn't. Maybe things weren't as they appeared to be.
"I didn't tell you…" She started. "About my parents, I didn't tell you because I was afraid you're going to think less of me."
"Elizabeth," he started but she pressed her finger to his lips.
"You're a catholic, I know what this means for you. We've been at your parents' graves every year since they died, and I know how special it is, how important. I thought… I was afraid that if you knew that I've never been, that you'll think that I'm not… Good enough for you."
She looked away after. She couldn't look at him once those words left her mouth. Too afraid that she was right, that he did think that. But as always with Henry, he just pulled her to him and held her tightly against him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I forgot what it was like, back when we were younger. I thought that over the years I had managed to get rid of this fear of yours, show you that there's no reason for it. I'm sorry that I didn't see it," he said as he looked down at her - but she was still avoiding his eyes.
"I should've known. Should've told you time and again that you can trust me, that nothing you'll ever say or do will make me love you any less. So I will say it now – babe, you are everything, and I will never not love you. I'm here for whatever you need, whenever you need. There is nothing that you can't tell me."
Elizabeth nodded against him. She felt small suddenly, like they were back in his apartment, two kids madly in love. She never thought then, not even in her wildest dreams, that she would still be him after all these years. That he would still love her just as much, if not more, after so long. She never thought that she would reveal her deepest secrets to him and he would stay, hold her hand and promise her that he loved her.
She fell asleep in his arms, feeling as if nothing could ever harm her when he was holding her.
He awoke to the sound of the drizzling water and looked around the room for a moment to see that she wasn't in bed next to him. He rubbed his eyes and made his way to the bathroom, finding her staring at the mirror, examining her stitches. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to his chest. As she rested her head against his shoulder, he pressed slow, wet kisses to her neck, inhaling the scent of her perfume.
She placed her hands on his, and pulled them tighter around her body. "I'm not lying, Henry. You can call the doctor if you want, ask him."
Meeting her gaze in the mirror, he looked at her for a long moment. "I want you to promise me that no matter how afraid you are of telling me things, if there is ever something this big, you will not keep me in the dark. We are in this together."
She turned around in his arms and nodded. "I promise."
He kissed her as her arms wrapped around his neck and refused to let her go. "I love you," he muttered against her lips.
"I'll always find you," she whispered.
