Hey guys! It's been a while. There's been a rather suspicious lull in my schoolwork, but I'm filling the void by writing fanfic. This was originally going to be posted on tumblr, but it kind of got away from me to here it is! This is just some Iran angst. Please enjoy and don't forget to review!

"Guys! Mom's home," Henry called when he heard the rumbling of the security detail pulling up to the house. Stevie and Allison raced down the stairs; Jason emerged from the living room.

Henry opened the door. His wife looked tired and tense. Before he had time to comfort her or even get a full read, she was ambushed by their children. Allison threw herself around her mother, nearly tackling her. Instead of returning the hug, Elizabeth let out a sharp cry.

"Mom? Are you alright?" Allison's brown eyes were wide with worry. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"

"You didn't hurt me." Elizabeth bit her lip, eyes brimming with tears, but she gave tight smile. "I'm fine."

"You're not," Henry corrected softly.

"I am," she said with an icy glare and sense of finality. Then in a softer voice, "Come here, Noodle." Allison let her arms dangle limply at her sides as her mother kissed her forehead. Her siblings followed suit with weak, barely-there hugs. They retreated anxiously to the kitchen, leaving their parents standing in the foyer.

"Can I hug you?" Henry asked awkwardly.

"Yeah," she said. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders gently and pressed a protective kiss to her forehead. They stayed there for a moment, but Elizabeth stayed stiff as though she couldn't relax. He relaxed his arms and let them drop to her waist. Her eyes were far away, almost grey with sadness and fear.

"Baby," Henry murmured with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just need to change and wash up." Her voice was cold, distant, and empty. All adjectives that were rather alarming when compared to her usually lively spirit. He watched her make her way up the stairs before going to the kitchen where the three kids were gathered around the island, oddly silent and visibly uneasy.

"Is Mom hurt or something?" Jason asked timidly.

"I don't know, buddy." Henry tried to project an aura of calm and control but couldn't quite get there. "Mom just had a tough trip. I'm going to go up and check on her. Are you guys okay down here?"

"We're good, Dad. I'll order food, or something," Stevie offered.
He smiled gratefully. "Thanks, sweetie." He gave Allison a side hug and a reassuring look. "I'll be right back, okay?" Leaving the kids to their own devices, Henry went upstairs to the bedroom and stopped outside the closed bathroom door.

"Elizabeth?" He knocked. "Do you need any help?"

"No." Her voice wavered so slightly that no one but Henry would have heard it.

"Can I come in?"

There was a silence. And then a small, fearful, "Okay."

He opened up the door slowly. Henry took in the scene before him with mild horror. Elizabeth had her back faced to him with only a bra and sleep pants on. The backs of her elbows were raw with just the beginning stages of scabs forming. What he was most shocked at, though, was the large white bandage on her lower back that was stained red.

"Shit, Elizabeth! Is that blood?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted, voice shaking. "I'm supposed to change the bandage every six hours, but we were sitting on the plane and I don't think I can do it myself."

"Okay. Do you want me to do it?" Henry offered. She nodded quietly. He slowly started to pry off one corner of the bandage from her bruised skin, wincing sympathetically at the pain Elizabeth must have been feeling. "This is probably going to hurt. It'll be like—"

"Ripping off a band-aid?" Elizabeth finished.

"Yup."

"Given me a second." She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself. "Okay. I'm ready."

Henry tightened his grip on the edge of the dressing and gave a sharp pull. She let out a soft yelp as the adhesive was ripped from her skin. Henry grimaced at the sound and the injury that was revealed. The stitches looked like had been done hastily, and as a result, the area around them was raw and puffy, possibly the beginning of an infection.

"Did the doctor tell you anything about taking care of them?"

"He told me to keep the clean. A little bit of water is fine but not soaking them."

"Okay. I'm going to just use a washcloth." Henry wetted the softest wash cloth he could find and wrung it out. As gently as he could, he dabbed it over the stitches. Elizabeth didn't say anything, but he saw her knuckles turn white from gripping the sink basin.

"Almost done, sweetheart," Henry soothed as he finished cleaning the wound. "Do you have any extra bandages?"

She nodded. "In my purse."

He went into the bedroom and grabbed a bandage and her favorite sweatshirt (technically it was his, but she wore it more frequently). With practiced precision from his military years, he covered the wound in seconds. After wiping away a tear, Elizabeth turned to face him and lifted her arms so he could slip the sweatshirt over her head.

"Thank you," she whispered. Henry wrapped his arms around her trembling form and soothingly stroked her hair. He felt her fingers dig into his back as if she needed to anchor herself to him.

"You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you," he soothed.

"I'm scared," she mumbled into his chest.

"I know. But you're home and I'm here." She's here, Henry repeated to himself, thanking God for getting her home. They hugged for a little while longer until Elizabeth pulled away.

"What about you? Are you okay?" she asked. That was when he saw a glimmer of the love and compassion that was usually in her eyes.

"No," Henry replied honestly. "But we're going to get through this together. I promise."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Thank you for coming home."