A/N: Based on a drabble request "I haven't slept in four days..."
They've been standing in tense silence for an eternity now. Henry had regretted the words as soon they had left his mouth, but by then it had been too late. He had watched as his wife had recoiled at the harsh bite of his words, the way she choked on her inhale when it hit her. He had taken a step toward her but Elizabeth had thrust out her hand, shaking her head, the look in her eyes telling him everything, as she turned away from him.
"Elizabeth," he calls out to her now, shattering the silence. "Please, look at me."
She shook her head, fingers clasping around her glasses, "I think we should just...call it a night."
Shit. He's fucked up now. Elizabeth never leaves a fight unresolved, it's one of her most absolute rules. Anger makes her anxious, so she has always been a diplomat, even in her interpersonal affairs. Always wanting to sit down and talk things through until reaching a peaceable agreement, but he can count on one hands the amount of times she has not been a diplomat.
The first when Henry broke things off, frightened by how fast everything was moving. She had stopped mid-sentence, no longer willing to even finish talking through her sentence, and simply said, Leave. He'd been the idiot who had, and spent three days agonizing over what he had done and if there was any hope of salvaging things.
The second when they were new parents. It had been a couple of months and he felt comfortable in the new pattern they had fallen into as a small family, comfortable enough that when he was offered a position posted in Africa he jumped on it. He thought Elizabeth would be thrilled, a promotion, new lands and cultures for him to regale back to her; she was not.
I can't believe you would do this, she had hissed, her words cutting at him.
Why? Why is it such a bad thing to want to go back?
Because Henry! You didn't talk to me about any of this! You aren't just a stand alone guy anymore, you have to think about Stevie and me and-
Oh, so you're allowed to be away from home and go off for days and weeks on end and that's okay? His voice raised, and they were officially fighting.
That's not fair! I haven't done anything since Stevie was born! I actually want to see her grow up! As if on cue, Stevie had started wailing. Her cries amplified through the static of the baby monitor. I didn't paint you as the father who splits, at least not this soon.
And that had been a low blow and she knew it. She was trained to know how to hit below the belt, and how to handle things amicably, and it was evident which way she had leaned.
I'm going to go get Stevi-
No! She had stopped him, blocking the stairs. I'll get her, she may as well get used to the idea of only having a mother-
Elizabeth-
You should probably sleep on the couch, start preparing for the military cots, and with that she had disappeared up the stairs. Ultimately, he had come around to her side, and turned down the position deciding perhaps it was too soon to leave his family.
It had taken longer for Elizabeth to forgive him. Fights lasted longer in their youth, when they were still trying to figure out how a marriage was even supposed to work.
And the third time was when Elizabeth mentioned her one year post in Baghdad. He had dug up her words from their fight about him leaving, thrown their kids in her face. It was unfair and messy, and she had stormed out- driving around their neighborhood for hours before eventually coming home. He'd found her the next morning, passed out in Jason's bed, her form curled protectively around him.
Now here they are. Elizabeth gripping the staircase, her chest rising and falling with rapid succession that can only mean she's crying, and he did that. He pushed her, "Elizabeth, I'm sorry- I-"
"Henry," she stops him, turning to face him and he regrets everything. Any time he ever added to her pain, or wasted a breath complaining when he should have been telling her he loves her. "I haven't slept in four days...I just...can we just call it a night…"
"No, no, Elizabeth, I can't! I messed up, I'm sorry, and I need you to know that," he reaches out to her, and she lets him. He takes what little she gives him, and pulls her into his arms, fingers tangling in her hair.
She stays in his hold for a moment, before she's pushing away, and walking up the stairs. "Just," she shakes her head, "I'll see you in the morning."
