This entry will have Henry and Elizabeth's POV and possibly other characters. It was a huge episode arc and we are feeling it still in Season 6. This chapter sequence follows the events of Tamerlane and Face the Nation. Of course I have added in some backstory that I have imagined. Also I apologize for the couple of weeks since an update. FF ate my update and I had to redo it all. I will have to learn how to use google docs, or something like it.
Henry (part 1)
Dear Lord please be with my wife right now. She's on a plane headed to Iran and I am home with the kids, doing my level best to remain strong. Last night she used humour and all out cuteness to defuse my fears and we had amazing, mind blowing sex. So as fun as that was; it could be my last memory of her. Bringing me tea, rolling her eyes and teasing me with light hearted banter about her rejects for the new Mrs. McCord. Let me be clear, it won't be a year and I won't be amused if she comes back to me in a body bag, or not at all. I just wrote body bag in relation to my wife. I am pretty terrified this time. The kids and I would be lost without her laugh, her temper and her. There is no one else to be Mrs. McCord. If I knew what kind of danger she would be in, I would have risked her wrath and told her that SOS was just not for her. Apparently there is a reason Marsh was murdered. George was killed, Juliet betrayed them all, and Andrew Muncie is up to no good. I don't trust in his arrest. He's cunning and Elizabeth always felt that there was something a little off about him. I have entertained these people in my home. My wife worked alongside him for many years and Conrad trusted all of them.
But right now those that aren't dead, are safe and sound and it's my Elizabeth who's off to speak to Javani and the Iranians. I trust none of them. I admire her courage because she knows she's walking intro trouble and she really had to force herself to go. She was crying as she left, and she was terrified. What is that saying about bravery? Why didn't I physically stop her? Now I have to leave it to her detail to keep her safe. I know Fred Cole adores her. I better leave this here and go spend time with the kids because stewing about it won't do anyone any good. When she gets home we are going to have a very serious talk about this damned job. I say when because if I say "If"I am giving up on her. Is this what it was like for her when I went to war? Just keep her safe. Bring her home so I can never again let her go. Her patriotism is stunning. Always has been, and as long as she's able, always will be. I love Elizabeth McCord as Secretary of State. She's uniquely qualified to do this job. She speaks for so many Americans and she truly cares about the world. However, as a husband, I just love my wife and don't want her hurt or killed. It's Alison's birthday tomorrow. I have to make that fun for her. I promised my wife that I would. Alison was a real trouper about everything. I know the kid wants a car. We looked into it, but it's just not an expense we can take on right now. Thankfully we couldn't give Stevie a car for her 16th so this lets us off the hook for Alison. Life in DC is quite expensive. Enough rambling McCord. Go feed those starving kids, before they decide to eat ice cream and popcorn. All three of them are just like their mother for that.
...
Alison
Today is my last day of being 15. I kinda regret not having a sweet 16 party but I am still new here in DC and with all the rules around security in our new house- it just would have been a disaster. Maybe I can have a sexy 17 party? Groan. Not with my parents! I can't get my own car either, because even though we are doing OK financially- mom has to spend a lot of money on new clothes that she mostly hates, and dad says keeping this new house plus the horse farm plus putting money away for us to go to college plus the fees for private school for me and Jason... well not Jason anymore. But Dad says when you get expelled you don't get a refund. The office said that they would apply a few thousand dollars towards my tuition and I guess that's good. But no bright red anything with a bow on it for me.
I am bummed that mom won't be here. Stupid work trip. This job of hers is really sucks. She's always at work and she's always tired. Today though, Mom was extra lovey. She hugged all of us and she even offered to have the laffy string fight in her good work clothes. Dad seemed a little tense and quiet. Are they fighting? That can't be right, his eyes looked sad and scared, not angry. When mom pisses him off his face looks different. She ditched her security last week to go get some mysterious errand done and Dad let her have it. She just looked like Jason does when he's done something stupid and she just apologized. She's still getting used to the job too and she used to love just getting in the car and running to the store. But now she can't even pee without clearing it with DS. Anyway Dad calmed down and he went for a run. She felt guilty and she made dinner for us, because dad usually cooks. Mom made a mess and she burned the sauce and the smoke detectors went off and then she looked adorable because she knew she was dead meat because she wrecked Dad's new skillet. Ironically she taught us that old expression. It means exactly what you think it means. Dead meat equals Big trouble. Her eyes got wide and her face was red and dad said it was classic Elizabeth and then he laughed like crazy and we did too. He sent her to go take a shower because she had eggs in her hair and flour on her face and she dropped the olive oil and then she kneeled in it to clean it up and then she slipped and Dad found her like that and he seriously lost it. She reeked like onions for two days. It took us about half an hour- and that's all of us, to clean it and the floor still looks slippery and shiny. We all revoked her cooking privileges for like the rest of her life. The new plan is before mom cooks anything harder than toast, scrambled eggs or microwave popcorn she has to talk to 2 family members, and one of them has to be Stevie or Dad. Otherwise she has to do all the chores in the house including cleaning Jason's room. Jason is super thrilled because Mom is on dishes for like, ever. We are all pitching in to make dinner and mom's job, when she's home, is garbage and dishes. Dad said that was fair, and she agreed to all of it. Jason was such a dweeb. He decided to try and trick her into cooking. He was telling her that his lunch got stolen at school and that he needed a protein hit. She was starting to get supplies to make him some grilled chicken and then she stopped herself. She told Jason if he tried to trick her again she was going to make him wash her delicates. He turned purple and ran upstairs gagging. My family is crazy. Mom was so proud of herself she did a little dance. She crashed into the table and bruised her hip. My mom can be pretty adorable sometimes and I think we might get her cooking lessons for Christmas next year. She loves food and she has all these cookbooks and she's just hopeless. She can do almost anything and even when she's being grumpy or punishing one of us- she's our mom and I don't want her to get hurt because of her job. I love her a lot. Maybe I can talk Dad into letting me have a sleepover?
...
Jason
Ok so sometimes I write in this dumb journal. Don't tell on me. I had trouble writing in grade 3 and the teacher told my parents I needed to practice. So they bought my these stupid notebooks with dinosaurs and Pokémon and sports heroes on the covers and I had to do two paragraphs every day except Saturday. I remember stomping up the stairs and trashing one of the notebooks. Mom was really good about it. She told dad to calm down and she came and sat with me and she told me she didn't like journaling when she was 8 either. She said that writing was an advanced form of communication and that I had the privilege of living in a place where they taught kids how to do that. Where they made notebooks with dinosaurs on them. She made a deal with me. I could pick one notebook and write in it. Or never write in it. She and dad would never read it, or edit it or even touch it unless they thought my life was in danger. I saw my chance and took it. I made her swear that not even then. Not even if kidnappers came. The dinosaur one was off limits. She swallowed hard and kinda squeaked a bit and pinky promised me. Then she gave me a big hug and a wet kiss and told me I was her baby and that she would do anything for me that I needed. Not that I wanted, and she explained the difference. I actually really respected her for that because I could tell she was trying. Even I know I am a pain in the ass little brother. Uncle Will says Mom has been through this before with a trying little boy and that he survived it and was better for it and that if I ever told mom that, he would make me smell his laundry including the socks that he brought home from being all over the world in his kit bag. So now I am getting A's at school and Mom and Dad are officially proud of me. Middle school here is so different from public school in Charlottesville. I can't believe Mom and Dad didn't kill me for getting expelled. My mom even yelled at Dean Ward. She's actually pretty cool when she does stuff like that. Maybe when I am really old and rich I will tell her I actually like journalling. I am 13 now and nobody tells me anything. But I see things and the girls think I am ignorant. Let them. I know that laffy string fight was a diversion. And I know there is a coup in Iran. I am pretty sure that's why everyone in this house looks like they want to vomit. I know what happens to women over there and I know mom is brave. She's still got superpowers so I know she'll make it back home. Because if she doesn't I will be really really mad at her. She hates it when I am actually mad at her. One time she actually told my teacher that I wet the bed. I screamed at her and I smashed her coffee mug on the floor. When she came to talk to me she had been crying and she apologized to me for embarrassing me. She asked me to forgive her. I said I had to think about it. I heard her talking to dad later. She said that she had really messed up and that she wanted to take it back, and that she had betrayed my trust. Later at bedtime I wasn't asleep but she thought I was and she came and sat next to my bed for a long time. I finally opened my eyes and she looked so sad. I reached over and rubbed her hair. She climbed into bed with me and snuggled me the whole night. I understand why dad loves her so much. She's pretty and she has lots of feelings and she's really smart and she does brave things. She apologizes and no ones mom actually does that. She played with me when I was little and she even took me to Cub Scout camp when dad got the flu. She was the only mom there and she did everything like the dads did. We fished, and hiked and told disgusting jokes and had a burping contest. Mom burned her hand making s'mores and she didn't cry. I remember when we got home that dad made her go to the doctor and get it checked out. She wasn't going to go because she said she was tough. Dad gave her this look and she went. That look makes her say "Yes Henry." Yesterday when she left on her work trip dad looked lost and tonight he hardly ate any of the pizza we ordered. So I think Mom forgot to call Dad and she's probably going to Iran to help with this coup or maybe she's there now and she's going to be there for a while fixing it. I think that's why Dad is upset. I am worried too. I don't really believe in God but if there is one, he would help my mom.
...
Henry
She's home. She isn't herself, but my wife is home and alive and I can breathe. She's having panic attacks because I suspect she's got PTSD. She's bottling things up, building a wall and trying to work through it. She was like this when I first met her. It took time to get her to crack her foundation and trust me.
...
Stevie
I don't journal as much as I should. It helped sometimes when I was a teenager. I was butting heads with my parents and it helped me organize my thoughts and feelings.
I love and respect my family. We are a team and sometimes it's nauseating how cute we are. Most of the time it's really helpful to have parents who want to talk about everything. Their expectations are high though. Both of them have PhD's and both are incredible public servants. I know they have secrets now. Dad was up to something when Mom went to India and I ended up getting grounded. I am 20. I was punished for being drunk in public. I wasn't crazy. I think mom was just embarrassed and frustrated and she took it out on me. We still
haven't really talked about it. She risks her life and scares us all to death and now she's always on edge and no one grounds her. Ok, Ok. I get it. I am a brat. I am just trying to figure out who Stephanie McCord is. I have to be more than Elizabeth McCord's daughter. A few months ago I didn't even want to be that. I learned that Mom let some enhanced interrogations happen on her watch, back when she was in Iraq. I was disgusted with her for weeks and I know I hurt her. We haven't talked about it either. Now I am worried about her. She survived the coup and apparently it was touch and go for her for a while. I can tell she was hurt because she isn't moving the same. I won't tell the kids though. They think it's just her elbows. Or they did until she freaked out about Jason having a bodyguard and then going on Face the Nation. Plus I heard her crying. When I asked her about it she gave me this really weird look and said it was hormones. I know she was lying. Dad is really tense.
I am going to do some research. I think Mom has a mental illness, and I know there is a lot of stigma about those. I guess being America's top diplomat doesn't leave room for a woman to have any weakness. Dad told me she didn't have a heart attack. Mom let me help her get dressed and then she kissed me and Dad and she went right back to the office. I thought it was a bad idea and I know Dad felt murderous about it. He knows her job is twice as hard because she's a woman. I also know he won't make decisions for her. I love their marriage. I know he's older than she is, and that they met at UVA. I know gender roles are pretty fluid in our home. Mom was away for a long time when we were kids and Dad was the one who did all the day to day stuff. Now she is the one with the high powered job and Dad is just really proud of her.
I know we all are, but I sometimes wish she could to just go back to being a professor. Because I don't want a mom who tortures people and who gets killed doing her job. I want Elizabeth the bad cook. The one who taught me how to ride a horse, to knit, to stand up for myself and to love reading. She used to coach my soccer team. I guess growing up means amalgamating all of these Elizabeth's and just loving and accepting her. I also want to help.
...
Henry
We finally got a chance to talk it out. I got to tell her how we had no idea where she was for about 12 hours. How absolutely gut wrenching that was for the girls and me. She knows I threatened Conrad and we held each other while I confessed how I felt. She cried too, and she admitted that while her plan worked, the cost might have been too high. She is taking Javani and Fred's losses as personal ones. I can't get her to believe otherwise. Furthermore she's been so angry and unfair. I have never seen Elizabeth like this. She wouldn't admit what really happened, what she was feeling until the middle of the night a few days after she was back. I knew she was blaming herself, and now that she's ready to talk I am listening...
The last few days have been a bit of a blur. Elizabeth made Jason get a personal DS to follow him around school. Our boy just wants to be a normal teen in middle school and my wife was terrified for him. She did ruin his first day, but Jason is growing up and I talked to him about it and all he asked was that his mother get help so she could be normal again. For 13, that's as deep as an I love you might get. I do know that Jason has a keen sense of compassion and it's not always visible. I am reminded of myself at that age. Puberty, mixed with a desire to be both a man and a little boy. I got my wife to back off on the DS and Jason seems mollified. Alison and Stevie are giving their mother a lot of space, truth be told, I think they are processing mixed emotions. Pride that she did such a brave thing, anger that she risked herself, fear that their mother might never be the same. I myself am guilty of this trifecta of emotions. I learned this morning that my dear sweet wife agrees with all of us. She doesn't know what to do and so that's why she's just getting up and going to work. She accepts completely that we were worried sick, that the coup may have traumatized Alison against her birthday for years to come, and that while we love her - we are all quite furious with her, and we are thankful she's home, and we need to just hold her and touch her to make sure she is real. She understands this intellectually. But after she goes all "bitchy" she often wants a hug. She apologizes and I have caught her just staring at the kids with this haunted look on her face. I am feeling overwhelmed but she is going to talk to me. I may have to force the issue but she is going to talk to me. Lord, help me help my wife. Help me help my family...
She was finally able to fill in those missing 12 hours for me. After the windows exploded and the initial gunfire happened, there were Molotov cocktails. No one was there but her, Javani's wife and the boys. Somehow they were able to drag the two dead men to safety in the basement of the house, where there was a tunnel to a bunker. Javani's wife was able to barricade herself and the boys but she didn't have enough room in there for Elizabeth and Fred. My wife begged her to keep Fred. Then, unaware she was injured, Elizabeth hid under a car. The terrorists eventually abandoned the torched house; and only then was she able to to go back to check on the kids and the wife. They were all in shock and yet somehow they managed to get away and find guards who were not part of the coup. These men brought them and the two dead to a state safehouse. This safehouse was an underground room and nothing was working with respect to communications. Elizabeth sat there and waited for someone to deal with the Secretary of State. She said she had no options and she was pretty sure she was going to be killed. There was no way to call us; or even the White House. She had no DS with her, as they had been wounded, killed or separated from her. If a coup leader walked through the door she would have been taken hostage and tortured. Fortunately for everyone in this story, Shiraz walked in and told her he believed her. At this point someone gave her some medical attention and food. Finally, someone got a satellite phone and they were able to call the White House. Conrad ordered an evacuation for Elizabeth, Fred and the other DS agent who got separated from them. They were in the air to Landstuhl base before I could be briefed. Too dangerous to do anything else she told me . It was only after she had seen a doctor and without any papers, recited some special codes only she would know, only then could anyone admit that Elizabeth McCord had been in Iran. That's when Russell called me. Bess is alive and will be home tomorrow. That's when I bawled. In front of my very adult daughters. The three of us released fear and relief and anxiety unlike anything we've ever experienced. I admit it. Elizabeth apologized for this. She swears she only knew how much danger she was in until after she landed and was read in on what Muncie had done. She thinks he called Juliet. She just feels that this was all very personal. I can't believe that. Could Juliet be hunting her now? Are the kids in danger? Elizabeth is worried too.
I will say this once. Life gives us bumps and bruises. Some of them happen for funny reasons. Seeing the woman I adore covered in cuts and bruises because of a bomb does a number on my entire psyche. Her back will always have a huge scar. Her elbows are raw. There were slivers of glass in her hair and her scalp was covered. Her eyes are dry, her throat is sore from screaming and smoke and lack of water. She should have gone to the hospital but Elizabeth said there wasn't much time for that. It will be a while before I truly forgive Conrad and Russell. It's wrong to be glad someone is dead but Muncie knew about Elizabeth's trip and he was willing to sacrifice her. He was supposed to be a friend.
I need to make peace with this. God rarely goes silent on me, and I remind myself that she's here with me. That's my miracle. I know she is highly trained, highly intelligent and highly skilled. I know she is dedicated. I also know she's a person who has developed PTSD and that she is hurting. My girl deserves so much better than this. She's preserved a legacy for Javani, Iran and America. She's against being called a hero. I think she is truly one of the most courageous people of her time. She'll beat this.
...
Elizabeth
I have been ignoring you my journal. I have been so conflicted. I feel like deserve every stitch in my back and then some. I put my family through hell, and good ole Bess has saved the nuclear talks. But it feels like I left a lot on the table to get America here. It feels like I damaged my family. I lost Fred. He was a good man and he's dead because of me. Andrew Muncie and Juliet - just like that, not my friends anymore. My staff knows I lost my mind and thankfully they are professionals. Conrad should have fired me. Instead I got a lecture about personal safety and taking care of myself; which while completely embarrassing, was completely on point. I would have said the same thing to any of my staff if they were acting like I have been. Maybe I am trying too hard to prove how tough I am. I just have all of these totally crazy feelings lately, and I have to admit that I really screwed up. I shut everyone out and just let anger take over. I am angry at myself for Fred's death, for Javani's and for not being able to save that little boy. So I came home and was a bitch to Henry, Jason, Daisy and well, everyone. I have too many emotions to process. I am not used to this many people caring about me. Henry says I need to get used to that. He also says that I owe myself some time to heal. He does however, agree that I have some apologies to make. He says that I can do that by getting help for PTSD, and for being honest about what I need. He told me Navy SEALS get this, and I was flippant. He also says I need to listen to my loved ones and accept that they are as mixed up as I am. They are glad I am safe, proud of me for the peace deal, awed that I took this challenge on and furious with me for nearly getting killed and coming home injured. I agree. I feel the same way. So Henry advised me to let people know that. They say that only kids get punished but let me tell you, that is the biggest lie on the planet. I have been chewed out by everyone from my 13 year old to the President of the United States and the Foreign Minister of China.If Maureen McCord can call me and tell me that she is glad I wasn't killed - well, Henry said he wishes he had a picture of my face. Patrick wanted to know if I was crazy. Will told me if I did this again he would kick my ass, and he added that Mom and Dad would be proud- after I got one of Dad's famous talks. I still flinch thinking about those walks in the woods- and it's been decades since I had to go for one. So there's that. I didn't do any of this to be a hero. I didn't do this to cause an international incident. I just wanted to save the peace talks and ensure America and Iran did not start a nuclear war. It's not about me. Henry says that's why so many people think I am a hero. I am just Elizabeth. This is my job. It's hard, it's terrifying. I feel like I never get the balance right. I am always on the edge of being a teacher, an analyst, an operative, a diplomat, a boss, a servant, friend, a wife and most importantly a mom. I fail at all of these things more often than I succeed. I miss being a daughter. I was barely 15 when they died and I put up so much armour it's a wonder Henry even tried to get in. I pushed him away at first but that handsome marine with the poetry, deep theology and so much kindness in him... well he stuck around. We built a beautiful life and I adore him more than he will ever understand because I am not as good with expressing myself as he is.
So this Kinsey Sherman better be prepared because I have a lot to say. If I can get out of my own way. Losing Fred, and Zahed. That hurts me in ways I can't express yet. What about Abdol? I owe that boy so much and I wouldn't blame
him if he grew up thinking I am Satan. I cannot bring his father back but maybe this deal, perhaps preserving this deal, will give everyone involved in this mess the closure they need. I hope I can live up to everyone's expectations, actually I hope to surpass them. I hope to honour those who did good. I hope this doctor can teach me how to manage PTSD. Apparently I don't need to be perfect. Despite what Mike B says, I can change things for women in Washington by simply being a woman who is willing to listen and learn and get help.
That I can do. One thing I haven't told anyone was the bodies I saw strung up in the streets of Tehran. I was numb, on my way to the extraction to Landstuhl and I realized how many people died in this coup. How I could have died in this coup. It was sobering to see how different America is, and then to think about how America gets involved in so much of the world's business. The Middle East is a complex place. I had been away for about ten years and I let myself get soft. I am teachable. I think I better go get some ice cream and find Henry. I could use a hug and he always says I can tell him anything.
... fin for this "chapter". I'll touch back on Iran in another chapter of this fic. Happy Msec day!