A/N: I know, you guys have been keeping the request for an update on this one, but I swear my life is a bit crazy right now and I didn't have the time (both physically and mentally, I guess) to write this. But It's finally here! I'm sorry for the long wait, and I really do hope you'd think it was worth it. Leave your comments, they really are the best.

Exhaling loudly, Elizabeth closed her eyes for a second before turning on the hair clippers. She let them glide over her scalp, strip by strip, leaving golden locks in the sink. The room was silent then as she switched it off. Holding her breath, she glanced at her image in the mirror, taking in the sight of her bald scalp. She ran her hand over, feeling the smooth skin and shivered at the strange feeling.

"I thought we were doing this tonight. After far too many drinks." Henry walked over to her, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her to him.

"I was afraid you were serious about shaving your head, too."

"Well, I was." He smiled.

"Henry, you can't really shave your head."

Raising a brow, he glanced at her. "Why not?"

Turning in his arms, she giggled. "You have huge ears."

Gasping, as if offended, his hands moved up her sides, tickling her and eliciting a loud squeak of surprise that was followed by her intoxicating laugh that he could never get enough of. "Stop, Henry!" she laughed, trying to push him away.

"Say you're sorry."

"Fine, fine! I'm sorry, you don't have huge ears!"

Stilling, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "Just very big ones," She whispered before running away from him to their bedroom.

He followed her lead, gripping her arm and pulling her to his embrace. "Where do you think you're going? I didn't get to tell you how beautiful you are."

Her bright blue eyes stared at him and he saw the doubts, the fear, and the pain. He let his hand run over her head and then pressed a kiss to temple. "Really, really, beautiful."

"Ali?" Elizabeth knocked softly on Alison's door that night, surprised to find the light still on.

"Yeah," Alison called from inside. She was too focused to notice how late it was.

"Hey, what are you doing up so late?" Elizabeth asked as she walked inside.

Turning around in her chair, Alison smiled at her mom. "I wanted to finish this," She said and handed Elizabeth a garment.

Elizabeth's eyes welled with moisture when she realized what it was. A black stripe was neatly sewed to dark blue and yellow floral silk organza fabric, and a small peals decorated the seam-line. Alison walked closer to her mom, resting her hands on hers. "Take the wig off, try it on," She whispered.

Elizabeth shook her head and took a step back. "Ali, no. I don't want you to…"

"Mom, you're going to have to take that wig sooner or later. I want you to try this on."

Elizabeth was reluctant, but she didn't want to let Alison down. She'd made this scarf for her, she had to try it on. "Turn around, please?"

Alison sighed but did as she was asked. She understood why it was so hard for Elizabeth to show herself like that, why she felt like she still had to protect her children from it. She knew arguing that she was old enough, that she could handle it, wouldn't help. There wasn't real logic to it, just the constant fear that she was ruining their lives, and that the only thing they will forever remember her as was this sick, dying, bald woman. If only Alison could explain to her that all she sees is a fighter, that she admires her strength and is looking up to her, maybe she'd let it go. But Elizabeth was stubborn, and Alison knew that part of it had to do with what she went through as a child.

"Okay, you can look."

Turning around, Alison gasped in surprise. She knew the colors would fit her mom, but she couldn't quite picture her without hair and it made it difficult to create the design. But it was perfect. It covered just enough of her forehead, and the blue brought out her eyes. She was beautiful. Alison smiled and walked her mom to the mirror, watching as a smile crept up her lips.

"Ali, it's gorgeous!"

"No, you are."

Wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek, Elizabeth pulled Alison for a tight hug. "Thank you," She muttered into her hair.

"Go Fish?" Stevie walked into the living room, finding her mom staring at some documents.

"Yeah, sure, why not. These aren't going to get any interesting anyway."

"So um…" Stevie began handing out the cards, but avoided her mom's eyes. "I'm thinking I should get tested."

"You want me to come with you?"

"No, Jareth will. I just… I want to know, you know?"

Elizabeth sighed. She knew. She was around Stevie's age when she went to get tested as well, and she had done it for the same reason – she had to know. But there was also no one around to tell her that knowing might not always be the better option. "Stevie, do you know what it means, if… If you have the gene, and you find out now, do you know what the consequences are?"

"I will have to get tested every year. I know. I had a meeting with Dr. Miller yesterday."

"Oh." Elizabeth could still remember her first trip to see Dr. Miller. She remembered so clearly the following time, when she sat in his office and he outlined the details of her test results.

"I don't want to burden you with this."

Elizabeth looked at her card for a minute, taking a deep breath before meeting blue eyes that matched hers so perfectly. "Stevie, you're not. I didn't have a mom to stand beside me when I decided to do this. And as much as I love your father, he would never understand what it is like to live under this constant threat. I want you to know that you can - that you should involve me in this. Not because I'm your mother, but because I was right where you are. And also because…" Elizabeth swallowed hard, "this is my fault."

"What are you talking about?!" Stevie frowned. "It's not your fault that you have the gene. It wasn't grandma's fault either."

"I brought this thing into our family." A tear rolled down Elizabeth's cheek as she said the words. She wasn't only talking about the gene. They may have inherited the gene from her, but she also brought the disease home. She brought the sickness and the scare. She took away their joy and instead she gave them fear. Fear of losing her, fear of having to go through the same thing as well. Fear that sooner or later this monster would eat them alive.

Pushing the cards aside, Stevie moved closer to her mom, wrapping an arm around her. "You didn't bring anything here. This happens. It happens to women who don't have the gene. It has nothing to do with you and there was no way you could prevent it. And you know something? If you hadn't done the tests, there's a chance you wouldn't have caught this in time. It might have been too late. And now you can fight this, and beat this and you'll be okay. And you didn't ruin us by telling us. Alison and I are old enough to handle it. No more blame, mom. Save your energy to kick the cancer's ass."

Resting against the cold marble, Elizabeth wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Here." Blake handed her a glass of water and a clean towel.

"Thanks." She offered him a faint smile before reaching for the water.

She wasn't supposed to be at the office today. She always made sure to take the day after chemo off. But some crisis in the Middle East forced her into the office and it was the third time she ran out of the conference room to throw up. She was certain she looked like a mess, and the last thing she wanted to do was meet with Russia's foreign minister. Reluctantly, she took Blake's hand and he helped her back to her feet.

After fixing her hair and her blouse, she opened the bathroom door to find Nadine and Daisy standing outside, a concerned look on their faces. "I really hope you're worried about me, and not because something happened."

"Unfortunately Ma'am…" Nadine started, sharing a glance with Blake as he shook his head and prayed there wouldn't be more bad news. "The White House called, you're requested in the situation room immediately. I already informed the Russian minister and your motorcade is ready when you are."

Elizabeth sighed with frustration and nodded. Putting her coat on, she accidentally pulled her hair and the wig moved from its place, revealing parts of her bald head.

"Crap," She muttered under her breath.

Feeling ashamed, she turned around and moved quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. They weren't supposed to know. It was why she wore the wig, although it made her head scratch and in spite of the fact that every time she ran to the bathroom to empty her stomach, it was in her way. She hated that thing. But she rarely wore any of her scarfs. Those were saved for the hospital treatments or for the nights she was feeling too sick to care about how she looked. Even when she was with Henry alone, she didn't dare to take that thing off. She didn't want him to see her bald, he shouldn't get used to this sight.

Outside in her office, Daisy, Nadine and Blake stood speechless. Blake was embarrassed and excused himself out of the room. He didn't want to be there when Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom; it was bad enough that he was there when it happened.

"Maybe…Um… Maybe we should leave too?" Daisy suggested.

Nadine nodded. They should give Elizabeth some privacy, avoid the awkward looks. But Nadine needed to be a friend to her boss at that moment. She needed to stand beside her and make sure she was okay. It was why she didn't follow when Daisy left, only closing the office's door after her.

The bathroom door opened slowly and Elizabeth exhaled when she didn't find them standing outside. Nadine sat on one of the chairs in her office, keeping her eyes on the floor. It was this small privacy she had to offer.

"Ma'am."

"I'm good to go." Elizabeth nodded, reaching for her purse.

Standing, Nadine walked over to her. She checked Elizabeth's appearance and smiled. "Being sick is not something to be ashamed of, you know? And it certainly doesn't make you look weak to us. Quite the opposite, actually."

"Bess?" Conrad called when he noticed her dragging her feet into the situation room.

"Sorry it took me so long."

"You look like crap." Russell pointed out the minute she took her seat.

"Thanks, Russell, it's nice to see you too."

Taking the seat next to her, Conrad rested his hand on her back. "I'm sorry for dragging you here," He whispered.

"It's not your fault there's a war in Syria." She smiled. It wasn't his fault that her own body was in war against itself, either.

"Are you sure you're okay to be here? We can…"

"Conrad, I can actually do something about the situation in the Middle East." Elizabeth didn't finish the rest of the sentence. There's nothing more I can do about the cancer.