Elizabeth McCord stepped out onto the front steps of her house, her chin down and her face set in a grim expression. She actually felt like crying, and she wasn't much of a crier. Well, before Iran, she wasn't much of a crier.

When she'd first returned home she hadn't cried at all - not even as Henry wept with gratefulness, his arms tight around her. She had remained silent and numb. But later after they began to unravel the mess of Iran and the horrible attack, she seemed to cry at every turn. Only recently, had she found the strength? resolve? to ward off tears. She hadn't had a flashback in weeks, until Stevie had thrown the glass. She had been, therefore, wholly unprepared for it and so it had hit her full force. She found herself breathing into a paper bag, struggling against unspeakable memories. It had taken hours to calm her racing heart, Henry at her side the entire time, and then she'd fallen asleep curled in his protective arms - both of them completely exhausted. It was just as dawn broke, that Nadine had called saying, "There's a problem at the Chinese Embassy, ma'am." They'd had no time to talk, no time to comfort one another over the previous night, no time to craft a plan to deal with their first born, no time to even just be together in the same space, and now when she'd finally had a break and come home - they'd fought and he wouldn't even say goodbye.

"Not much of a visit home, Ma'am." Frank said as she approached the car.

"No rest for the wicked." She said trying to joke.

"There ought to be rest for you then, Ma'am." Frank said opening the door for her and she moved to climb inside but after looking inside said, "Frank, there's already someone in this car."

"Yes, Madam Secretary, but he claims to know you." Frank winked at her. "You want me to remove him?"

"No, but," She hesitated. "You're married, right Frank."

"Twenty-seven years." He told her with a grin. "Nearly twenty-eight."

"Good. Because you might hear an argument on the way and I hate to crush your dream of romance without the harshness of real life."

"No, worries there, ma'am." He said with a laugh. "And Dr. McCord mentioned there might be a 'discussion'." Frank said winking at Henry who waited patiently inside the car. "He asked me to remind you of your panic button." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You hit that and I don't care who's sitting next to you, we will shut it down."

"Let's hope it doesn't get that." She smiled and climbed into the backseat.

"You actually thought I would let you leave without a goodbye?" Henry admonished, as she settled in the seat. "Come on, babe, it is still you and me."

"I don't know what to think anymore." She slumped against the seat, running a hand over her face, exhausted beyond words.

"That's a first!" He said wryly.

***MS***

The truth was she had nowhere to go. It was completely stressing her out. Stevie McCord had friends from her time working at Frank's and friends from classes, but it wasn't like Virginia. She couldn't go back there either. Most of her friends were away at school and it was too far to get to classes. Stevie scrolled through her phone trying to figure out what to do and who to call.

She rode the Metro for awhile and ended up near Frank's thinking maybe she'd run into a friend, forgetting completely it was within a stone's throw of the State Department. She stood for a long time in front of the building, looking up and wondering if her mother was there. Ali had said that she had been working nonstop. Still she couldn't bring herself to go inside. She crossed the street settling on a bench, her eyes watching the seventh floor windows. She hadn't spoken to her parents since that terrible night. The sound of her father's voice still echoed in her ears. She heard it almost constantly, "Get out!" They had both called and left messages, but she couldn't call them back. She was too ashamed; too embarrassed.

The truth was she'd struggled long before her mother had become Secretary of State. Leaving high school and going to college had been difficult. She had floated through life at the top of her class, captain of everything as Ali used to say, but everything had been easy for her. She hadn't really had to study or work very hard and when something presented a challenge, she lived with two highly intelligent professors. Her freshman year had been so tough, her first semester she'd been devastated by two C's - her first ever. Her parents had been surprisingly calm about it. They'd reminded her that it wasn't uncommon to get some lower grades your freshman year. The transition was challenging they'd pointed out.

But, what she'd never told anyone, even to this day, was that she'd suffered a catastrophic, devastating heartbreak that first semester. It had nearly destroyed her.

She'd met him two weeks into that first semester. He seemed perfect; sweet, kind and intelligent. And she foolishly thought that it would be forever. After all, hadn't her own parents met in college? It was a family 'd been too shy to say much about him when she went home at Thanksgiving. Later, she had wanted to bring him home for Christmas break but he'd laughed at her when she suggested it. Of course, by the time Winter Break arrived, it was over, and she was grateful that they'd never known anything about him. It would've been far too painful to have to explain why he hadn't come home with her.

She had thought he was so sweet, good and kind - faithful like her father. She believed he would never hurt her; never hit her. He didn't - not with his fists. Looking back at it now, she recognized that he'd manipulated and controlled her; always boxing her in with his words - each syllable as powerful as a fist. At the time she'd thought it sweet and romantic - he couldn't bear to share her with anyone! But it made her nauseous to even think about it now. The cruel way he'd cut her off from everyone, even from herself. The worst part was knowing she'd let him do it - foolishly mistaking it for love.

Two weeks before finals, she had come back to her dorm room to find him in bed with her roommate. She had been completely shattered. She spent those last two weeks avoiding her roommate and sleeping on the floor of other people's dorms.

He'd tried to talk to her several times, apologizing profusely - blaming it on her roommate ("She threw herself at me!"), alcohol ("You know how wild I get when I drink") and even on her ("You've been so distant lately"). It had taken every ounce of strength for her to finish out those last few days. She took her finals, and packed her bags. She'd been waiting at the curb when her mother had arrived to bring her home for winter break.

She was quiet that Christmas, sticking close to home. Her parents had probed, sensing something was wrong but she'd been far too ashamed to admit she'd been so easily played. She convinced them that she was tired and homesick. When her report card had arrived those two C's were like a branding - she was an idiot. She would stand staring at herself in the mirror but couldn't even recognize her own reflection.

It had taken all of the next semester for her to recover. She'd transferred to a different dorm and settled into a new life. Her confidence had been badly shaken and for a long time she told no one about it. Her new roommate, Jane, had finally dragged it out of her, and after that she found herself slowly rebuilding her life. She had approached her sophomore year with excitement and joy. She was rooming with Jane again and things were looking up - and then her world got flipped upside down again! Her mother's job had knocked her back down to dust and she found herself back at home; a dropout.

She'd been sitting at a bus stop just outside her mother's building, lost in thought and dark memories. She hadn't noticed the sky growing dark or the tall man watching her.

***MS***

"Are you going to yell at me some more?" She asked Henry as the car pulled away from the curb. She sat against the door leaving a wide gap between them.

"Babe, knock it off." He studied her in silence before continuing. "Look, you remember Wolfgang, right?"

She blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Desert Storm. I talked about him. Wolfgang? He name was really Paul, I think but we called him Wolfgang. I can't remember why. He was married and had a little baby. Remember? He was the only other guy in my squad who was married."

"Right." She stared at him in confusion, clearly irritated. "I remember. He crashed, didn't he? Isn't he the one who is paralyzed now? What does that have to do with . . ."

"He got a letter from his wife, right before we went out. She was stressed, I guess, and missing him. It must have been hard managing the baby alone. She told him she wasn't sure if being married to a Marine was something she could do." He sighed. "He couldn't call her or email her. It was all he could think about. I told him that everyone struggles from time to time and to just wait it out; that she was probably tired and missing him - that it was just a bad day. But you know, it was hard over there and you had so much time to think and wonder. It distracted him, and then the next time we went out, he crashed."

The car rolled out of Georgetown as he continued. "I went to see him before the evac at the hospital and he said he couldn't keep his head in the game. He'd been worried about her, and miscalculated and so he crashed. He was too worried about her to do his job." He reached out for her hand, his voice gentle. "I don't want to do that to you. I know you've got the weight of a nation on your shoulders. I get that, babe. I really do. And things are bad right now. I see it. You are worried about the office and worried about Stevie, I don't want to add to that by making you worry about me. I look at you and wish I could do something helpful." She remained silent but moved closer to him, so that he could wrap an arm around her,

"No one ever thinks about what it's like from this side - to watch someone you love struggle with decisions that impact nations. This is hard. It's harder than I ever imagined, baby. And I never wanna be the reason that you are worried or distracted. I will never let you walk out that door without making sure you how much I love you."

" Henry," She said softly, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know we have to talk about her, but I just . . . She's twenty-one tomorrow and this isn't how I thought it would be. It is so messed up and I don't know what to do."

"I know. Neither do I. I feel helpless, and I need you. I can't figure this out without you. That's what I meant to tell you, but it came out all wrong. Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

She turned to face him. "No, I'm sorry. Stevie is right. I screwed everything up! I can't bear that I've hurt her so much. She's struggling and angry, and it's all my fault." She turned burying herself in his arms as she wept.

"No, babe. No." He said cooing softly. "Shh. Elizabeth, don't. This isn't your fault."

"It is! I completely flipped her life upside down! Everything's screwed up! I'm a mess and the kids are a mess! You and I are fighting!"

"No, we are not." He kissed her cheek. "We are working things out, just like you said. And this is mine. I'm the one who threw her out, not you."

"Henry," She sat back to look in his eyes. "No, honey. Don't . . . You were angry. You were right to be angry. She's a smart girl. She can understand that."

"I'm so ashamed." He said, pulling her in tight and burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm so sorry." He said, crying. "I'm just so sorry. You were right. We should've waited until morning! You told me it was a bad idea to wait up for her! Why didn't I listen? And now, she won't come home, and I'm just so ashamed! I never meant to hurt her or you! I just want to make it right!"

"We will." She whispered, lifting his chin and kissing him. "You are such a good father, Henry. This doesn't change that. And we'll figure this out." She hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I was such a bitch about it."

"No, I was a jerk. I ambushed you." He wiped tears from his face. "I'm sorry, babe. I really am."

"Me, too." She said smiling at him. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you, too." He leaned in kissing her and she felt herself relaxing. The ache of worry over Stevie was still there. She still felt sorrow and shame for all the havoc her simple "yes" to Conrad Dalton had brought her family. But somehow, she found all of it endurable because this was still solid. It had nothing to do with her inner strength or independence - it was as solid a truth as the law of gravity; her heart was stronger because of him; they were stronger together.

"We can get through this." She told him. "We can make it better for her; and for us."

"We can." He agreed. "I'll try and call her again tonight. I'll check with her friend, Hannah."

"Okay." She smiled at him and then settled against his shoulder. "You have always been the Stevie Whisperer. She'll take your call."

"We live in hope." He said softly, his lips brushing her forehead as he spoke.

It had been painful to separate when the car had finally stopped in the garage of the State Department. She didn't want to leave him.

"They can take you home." She said, standing and facing him. He kept his hands on her arms, his fingers rubbing gentle circles.

"I'll take the Metro." He said. "I want to walk."

"I'll call tonight."

"No matter how late." He stepped closer. "Wake me up."

"Okay."

He ran his fingers along the side of her face. "You better go, sweetheart. I'm okay. You fix the mess here and home should be a piece of cake."

She leaned in kissing him but instead of her usual quick, public kiss, she kissed him deeply - completely ignoring the agents that surrounded them. When they finally broke apart, she had tears in her blue eyes. He reached out and brushed them aside with his fingers, before pulling her into a tight final hug. "I love you, Lizzie. You are my oxygen."

She blushed at this. He almost never called her Lizzie except late at night when they were alone and he held her naked in his arms. The rest of the world called her Bess, while he publically called her Elizabeth, keeping all of his nicknames for her private - secrets known only to them.

"I better go." She said but still clung tightly to him.

"So go, already." He said with a laugh, squeezing her tighter.

"I am." She kissed him one last time - An ordinary goodbye kiss and stepping from his arms headed toward the building, her fortress of agents moving with her. His shoulders slumped, watching her go.

"Need a ride back, Dr. McCord?" Frank asked him.

"No. I'll take the Metro." He said, turning to leave the garage. "Thanks, Frank."

"You're welcome, sir." Frank nodded at him. "She didn't hit the panic button." He added with a wink.

"No, she didn't." Henry agreed with a laugh. "Keep an eye on her for me, Frank. I've developed a pretty strong fondness for her."

"It's my only job, sir."

Henry nodded at the tall agent and stepped out into the icy night, feeling warm for the first time in days.