OK PEEPS. HERE'S A BIG CHAPTER. NOT BIG IN TERMS OF WORD COUNT. BUT IT IS THE CULMINATION OF QUITE A FEW THINGS. ENJOY.


"What the hell are you doing?"

The words from her daughter brought Elizabeth's gaze flying up to where Emma stood, the door to her office slamming against the wall.

Blake hurried in behind, and quietly said, "Emma's here, Ma'am."

Then he bowed out. Quickly.

Elizabeth saw her daughter, standing there. The look of confusion mingled with anger on her face. Seeing her daughter brought some relief to Elizabeth, and she let out a breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding in.

Henry moved to Emma, quickly pulling her into a very one-sided hug. And, in the fatherly tone he had mastered over the years, he said, "I'm so glad you're safe, Em."

Elizabeth could see how stiff her daughter was as Henry wrapped his arms around her. Elizabeth saw the butterfly stitches holding the gash on Emma's forehead together, the bruise under her right eye would've been more noticeable if not for the menacing stare Emma was giving Elizabeth. When Henry let the reluctant girl go, Elizabeth saw the cast that wrapped around Emma's left forearm.

She would never get used to seeing her daughter like this – injured.

But Emma hadn't lost the intensity of what she'd walked into as she pushed past Henry to step towards the desk. "What are you doing, Mom?"

"Emma," Elizabeth began, making her voice stay strong, "This conversation is between Isabelle and…"

"Stop." Emma interrupted. "Why would you fire Isabelle?"

Isabelle jumped in, "Em, this isn't about you."

"I'm not stupid." Emma said, looking straight through Elizabeth. "I don't understand. We stopped the bomb. No one was hurt."

Elizabeth resisted pointing to the multiple injuries on her youngest daughter as a point in the argument. Instead, she reiterated, "I want to talk to you, but let me finish here with…"

"No." Emma insisted. "If you're mad about me being in the field, then that's you being mad at me. Not firing the CIA Director."

"Fine." Elizabeth said. "Let's just put it all out there. Isabelle should not have put you in that position." She looked at Isabelle, who still had astonishment written all over her face. "She made a wrong decision. In our line of work, you make a bad call, you pay for it."

Emma's blue eyes stared back at Elizabeth. "So one bad call of putting me in the field, one – in fact – that had NO bad outcome" Emma's voice escalated, "and you're going to fire her? So you've never made…"

"Isabelle should never have recruited you in the first place." Elizabeth stated.

She watched reality dawn on her daughter. "You're just mad I didn't tell you."

"Em." Henry piped in, stepping behind Emma and put his hand on her back, "You're in such a public position that bringing you into the Agency should never have been an option." His voice was calm. She knew what he was doing. Trying to soften Elizabeth's matter of fact tone.

Elizabeth watched Emma twist her shoulder to move away from Henry. And then Emma countered, "I was just an analyst. I wasn't doing anything dangerous."

And Elizabeth couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her words. "Nothing dangerous like, I don't know, ripping the homing device for a dirty bomb out of someone's body and carrying it around with you?"

"I mean, until yesterday." Emma countered.

Finally, Isabelle spoke up. "Emma, your mom is right. It was a lapse of judgement on my part."

"Bullshit." Emma said, turning to Isabelle, "She's wrong, and you know it. And even including today, I was able to get through to Amira."

Elizabeth watched as Isabelle looked down at her hands. It wasn't agreement, but it wasn't disagreement.

Emma looked at Henry, who said, "We were worried."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Are you two afraid to stand up to her?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. But she just let Emma wear herself out.

And the angry tirade continued, "Just because she's worried doesn't mean I didn't do a good job today. I did. We all did." Emma turned and faced Elizabeth, her words cutting deep, "You just don't like that I was in danger. You were just afraid. And now, you're trying to fire the person who put me in the position to do the job."

Elizabeth knew that fear. She knew the fear that pressed her to do this. Pressed her to fire her best friend. Or former best friend. She knew the fear of doing whatever she needed to keep her little girl safe. To keep that coffin empty.

"It. Doesn't. Matter." Elizabeth stated. "That job was never yours to do in the first place." It wasn't. It didn't matter how hard Emma argued, Elizabeth would never change her mind.

It was quiet for a few seconds. The rage still boiled throughout the room. The intensity was overwhelming. But Elizabeth. She wouldn't back down.

Finally, Isabelle spoke. "Is there any way I can simply resign?" Elizabeth looked at her friend, or the friend who now looked like a stranger. Her dark eyes were pleading, filing through their deep history together. The friend who had been there the first few days of training, through the fearful months of her pregnancy with Emma, helping keep Elizabeth sane during the separation from Henry, through Elizabeth's investigation of Marsh's plane crash, through the deep sadness after Emma's kidnapping and mistaken death, and through her time as President.

Elizabeth knew firing Isabelle would cut her off from any hope of finding another job. Isabelle would, forever, be seen as the woman who just couldn't make it as Director. Rumors would fly about what heinous crime Isabelle had committed to get her fired from her position. It would be the end of her career. A career they'd walked through together.

Elizabeth took a breath.

"If you fire her…" Emma's voice interrupted Elizabeth's thoughts. "No, if you make her resign OR fire her…"

"Emma." It was Elizabeth's turn to interrupt her daughter with a finality to her tone. Biting out, "Stop. This isn't your decision." Elizabeth could feel herself starting to unravel with each interruption Emma made. And her voice was starting to stray from the point blank, emotionless tone she'd tried to stick with. And the anger she felt, seeing her daughter injured, remembering the horror of realizing that Emma was in that interrogation room fourteen hours away in Baghdad, she was starting to lose her controlled manner.

But it was like Emma could sense that. She could sense that Elizabeth was starting to fall apart. And Emma pushed farther.

"You're just mad you can't control me anymore." Emma said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "You're mad I did something without asking for your Royal permission."

And Elizabeth moved. She used her hands to push herself around the side of the desk, "And what if I am?" She saw Henry's eyes get bigger. She saw Isabelle step away. But Emma stood strong there, meeting her gaze as Elizabeth got close to her face. "Am I such a bad person for trying to keep you safe, Emma?" Now, Elizabeth was yelling as she pointed her finger in her daughter's face, "IS THAT SUCH A CRIME?" Emma's unmoving stare fueled the anger inside Elizabeth, and she let loose. "I'm TIRED of watching you almost die. Time and time again. I'm not going to do it again. I will do WHATEVER THE HELL I have to do if it means I don't have to watch you almost die in front of me ever again."

There. She'd said it. Finally. Elizabeth took a breath. A weight off her chest.

But Emma never broke her stare. And through clenched teeth, Emma said, "I'm a good agent. I did good work. I'm not going to let your insecurities about keeping me under lock and key keep me from helping save lives."

Elizabeth shook her head. And she stepped back. And in a quiet, pointed way, she said, "You're not an agent anymore." When Emma looked surprised, Elizabeth felt the corners of her mouth curl up in a satisfied smile, and she said, "Oh, you thought I'd let you just go back to work like yesterday never happened?"

Indignation filled Emma's face. "You can't take that away from me."

"Don't forget." Elizabeth said, "I sure as hell can, and AM."

Emma turned to look for support at Henry, "You can't let her do that, Dad."

Henry didn't look at Emma, but kept his eyes on Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, what are…"

"Don't do it, Henry." Elizabeth said, turning away from him and walking back behind the desk. "Don't you DARE take her side on this."

"Because he sees how fucking INSANE you're being." Emma yelled. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

Elizabeth turned and returned her daughter's hateful gaze. "You lied to me."

"Oh, that's REAL fucked up, coming from YOU." Emma shouted. "You, who lied to me for twelve whole years of my life and would've gone on for the rest of my life."

"I'm not arguing about that with you again, Emma." Elizabeth returned the rage. "This was different."

Emma turned her back to Elizabeth and walked toward the other end of the room, her voice still filling the entire office. "Sure, it's different because … why?"

"Because my lie was to PROTECT YOU." Elizabeth's chest heaved with emotion. "And YOU lied to me because you thought I'd say NO!"

Henry's voice. "Let's calm down."

But it was too far. And everyone in the room knew it. Elizabeth thought even some people outside of the office knew it too.

"I'm GOOD at this." Emma said, turning around to face Elizabeth. "I finally found something I can do – to help other people. Something that saves lives."

"I don't care." Elizabeth stated. The blood pounded through her body, rushing like the emotions through her head. "Find something else." Then. Just to make it clear. "You're done at the CIA."

Emma just stared at her. Staring right through to Elizabeth's core. And in that moment. Elizabeth didn't recognize the person in front of her. A switch flipped.

And Emma's voice was emotionless.

Empty.

"I can't live like you want me to." Emma's words were cold. Calculated. "I can't just sit at home in a little bubble so that you won't worry."

Henry said, "That's not what she wants, Em."

Elizabeth ignored Henry. Maybe that was what she wanted.

Emma continued. "So I'm done."

Elizabeth couldn't let her guard down. She couldn't. She couldn't watch her again on the screen – she couldn't just be watching for her daughter to die.

And Elizabeth didn't take the bait. If Emma wanted to explain, she could.

But Henry did. "Emma, your mother is just upset."

Elizabeth was way past upset. Everyone in the room knew it.

Emma walked towards the desk, using her right hand to pull her phone from her back pocket. And she slammed it on the desk in front of Elizabeth so hard Elizabeth flinched. "Don't try to contact me."

Now, Elizabeth could hear the panic in Henry's voice, "Emma, we just need to let things calm down. Both of you. You're just angry…"

Emma shook her head. "No. Mom doesn't respect me as an adult. She can't stop seeing me as a child." Emma turned towards Henry. "Charlotte told me about Mom's power trip. She couldn't respect my text telling her to stop freaking out. She called my girlfriend in and, intimidated her in this office."

"It was a…"

Emma ignored Henry's excuse. And Elizabeth watched as Emma turned and looked at her. And Emma said, "I mean it. Don't contact me. Don't send anyone else to try and check up on me." Now it was Emma's turn to lean over the desk and threaten. "If you do, if I find out that you've sent agents or FBI or the KGB to find out how or where I am," Emma lowered her voice, "I'll disappear so fast, you'll never find me."

Now Henry had his hands on Emma's shoulder, "Em. Just take a breath. It's not…"

But Emma ripped her shoulders from his grip, turning away towards the door.

"Stop her." Elizabeth met Henry's gaze. Panic and anger. And, with Emma walking out of the office, he pleaded with Elizabeth, "Don't let her go. You can't let her walk out of our lives." He reached his hand across the desk, gripping into her own with a deep need. "Don't do this. You don't want this."

But Elizabeth couldn't bend. She couldn't change things.

All she could say to her husband. All the words she could muster. "Maybe this is for the best."

A fire filled Henry's eyes. And he pulled away from her. "Who are you?"

"I'm the mother who is done watching her daughter almost kill herself over and over again."

Henry turned and ran after Emma. Calling for her to stop.

Leaving Elizabeth and Isabelle in the room.

And Elizabeth sat down in her chair, exhaustion ripping through any strength she'd had.

"Bess, you can't take this out on her."

She had strength for one more thing. "Get out."


Henry couldn't process it all. He couldn't put together all the anger he'd seen from his wife. He couldn't gather up all the emotions that Emma had put down. He couldn't file away what was happening at that moment. All he could do was run after his daughter.

Something he never thought he'd have to do alone.

Catching up to her wasn't hard.

"Emma, please." He called out, until he was walking beside her. "Please."

He knew from the way Emma turned her head away from him that she was breaking. Crying. And her words were stunted as she continued walking, "It's done."

Henry refused to believe that. "Emma, you know how your mom is." He did. Although this was something he'd never seen before. Not with their children. As they walked to the carport, he was begging, "Just give her a chance."

When Emma reached the door to the car, she turned around. Her face was red with tears. And he could see where the façade had broken. And she held her hands up in desperation. "What else am I supposed to do, Dad?" She swallowed hard. "Nothing I do will ever be good enough for her. Nothing will ever be safe enough for her. I can't just sit here and do nothing with my life."

"That's not what…" Henry started, but then realized that, in fact, was exactly what Elizabeth wanted.

"And." Emma continued, "She won't listen. She can't stop seeing me as that kid. But I'm not that kid."

And Henry could see the finality. He could see the stubbornness. The same he'd seen across the desk as he'd pleaded with Elizabeth to stop their daughter from walking away. There. In Emma.

And he held back his own tears. Trying to be the strong one. Or. The sane one, in regards to Elizabeth. But he also knew this might be the last time.

Last time he'd see Emma for a while.

Knowing the two women.

And he held his arms open.

Emma fell into them, like she'd done time and time again.

Like when she was first learning to walk. She'd tumbled and hit her head on the coffee table. And she'd buried her head in his shoulder, wrapping her tiny arm around his neck.

Like when, in first grade, she'd fallen off her bike, skinned her knees and elbows trying to do a flip off a mound of dirt. She'd let him carry her up to the house to clean and put Superman bandaids on her scrapes.

Like when she'd gotten off the plane. Years and years later. A miracle before his eyes.

Now.

She held him. And she whispered, "I love you, Dad."

And he held her close. Squeezing her. And he said, "I love you too, Emma."

And then she let go.

And he stood there. Tears rolling down his face as the car drove away. Leaving him there. Alone.