Prompt: Elizabeth believes she's dying, and calls Henry because she needs his voice to be the last thing she hears. She *doesn't* die, and Henry freaks out on her when she gets home.

P.S. if this storyline seems familiar, you probably watched Castle, from which I totally and shamelessly stole this because it's six a.m. and I don't have the energy to come up with an original reason as to why Elizabeth might be dying and then not die. Okay, cool.

Henry's phone was ringing, and he sighed, pulling his glasses off of his face and reaching for the phone.

Elizabeth.

He couldn't help but smile slightly at the prospect of speaking with his wife.

"Hey, babe," he said. He was met with a choked sob on the other end of the line, and immediately sat up straight, fear gripping him.

"Elizabeth, honey, are you okay?" he asked.

"Henry," she sighed. "I have to tell you something."

"Okay," he said, still confused and worried.

"I'm standing on a bomb," she said, and Henry felt as if all the air had been pulled from his body.

"What?"

"Henry, look, I can't- I can't debate this and argue with you and have you tell me how awful this is, and whatever horrible decision I made to get to this point because I just- I don't have the time and this is probably going to be the last conversation we ever have so can we please just not?"

"The last- Elizabeth!"

Henry didn't know what to think following her little monologue.

"Henry." Her voice was soft now, and it both calmed him and made him realize the serious situation they were facing. "There's a timer on this bomb, and to be honest with you, I just want your voice to be the last thing I hear."

"That's-" he broke off, leaning back in his chair, a chair that faced photos of their family and rested in the home they shared. The idea of Elizabeth not being a part of it was impossible to imagine.

"Baby, what do you want me to say here?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence.

"Tell me you love me," she said, almost so quietly that he wouldn't have been able to discern her words if he wasn't so familiar with her.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said quietly. She was right- this was no time to argue with her, as much as he wanted to. He wanted to tell her that he was furious that she'd gotten herself into such a situation. There was even a part of him that wanted to argue with her because that's what they did, what they had done for the entire time they'd known one another.

"I love you, too," she said.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Wait a year, yeah?" Elizabeth attempted.

"Oh, Elizabeth, don't."

"Okay."

"I don't know what to say," Henry admitted.

"Henry, just promise me that you'll be okay," she begged.

"I- I'm sorry, baby, I can't do that," Henry replied.

"I wouldn't be able to, either," she said. "Please try though, okay? And- and tell the kids that I love them."

He was just about to reply when there was suddenly static on the other line and the call disconnected. Henry sat in shock for a moment, staring at the screen of his cell phone. He hadn't moved when it began to ring again, although later when he checked his call logs, he found a half-hour gap between the first call and the second, which came from Russell Jackson.

"What the hell is happening?" Henry asked into his phone, jarred into action by the call.

"Bess is fine," Russell said.

"She's what?" Henry asked, having expected to hear news of his wife's death.

"She's fine," Russell replied. "Listen, Henry, I don't have time to really talk, but I'm supposed to tell you she'll be home in an hour."

Abruptly, Russell hung up and left Henry spinning yet again.

He stayed in his chair for the next hour, and only moved when he heard the door open. A moment later, Elizabeth walked in and stood before him, with a smudge of dirt on her cheek but looking otherwise unharmed.

"Elizabeth, what the hell?" he exclaimed. He stood and rounded the desk, staring at her as she stood in silence.

"What the hell?" he repeated. "You call me, out of the blue, tell me you're dying and you want to-to hear my voice and go all 'tell the kids I love them' and then- then you're just gone, and I'm sitting here with no way to get in touch with anyone so I'm just sitting here in total shock, right? And it's a miracle I didn't actually go into shock. Then, to top it all off, I get a call from Russell, who of course, is the poster child for warm compassion and he's all 'Bess is fine' and what am I supposed to think?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but Henry raised his voice to talk over her.

"No, I'm not done!" he said. "Elizabeth, I- I thought you were dead! I actually thought you were dead and that was it, we were done. I can't even begin to tell you what that was like because it wasn't like...thinking something could have happened to you, it was different. You told me yourself, I heard it in your voice, you were dying. And then you just…" he trailed off, gesturing a little wildly in the direction of the front door. "You just walk in like that and-"

Elizabeth had moved forward, wrapping her arms around him, and just like that, Henry fell apart.

"I'm okay," she said softly, and he held her tight against his chest, burying his nose in blonde hair that smelled faintly of smoke, but which also carried the familiar notes of shampoo and the same perfume she'd been using for fifteen years; he still thought on occasion that he prefered her old one. Now, however, the scent of this one was more than enough for him. It was proof that he held his wife in his arms, that whatever had happened that day, she was okay. She was safe, and that was enough to reduce him to tears.

He trembled against her, and Elizabeth would have sworn she could feel her heart breaking.

"Elizabeth," he said, and his voice broke on the third syllable. She held on just a little bit tighter.

"I know. I'm sorry, Henry, I never would have called you if I'd thought I was walking out of there," she said.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Henry admitted as he tangled his fingers in her hair. She nodded against his shoulder.

"I know," she said, and he heard his own sorrow reflected in her voice; they had vowed to always have each other's backs, both privately and professionally. But this?

Neither of them were sure how many more close calls they could take.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he sighed.

"Me, too, babe. Me, too."

"We're never telling the kids about this, are we?" Henry said. Elizabeth shook her head, smiling slightly as Henry ran his thumb over the smudge on her cheek.

"Never," she sighed. "Can we please just go and...eat pancakes or something and not think about how I almost never got to eat pancakes again?"

Henry, in spite of still feeling shaken, couldn't help but smile.

"That would have been a tragedy," Henry said, a brave attempt at lightness as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they headed for the kitchen.

"It really would've."