A/N: Finally! Sorry I'm slow, I get so many ideas in my head and it's hard to focus. I don't think I'm finished, but I like it to be segmented. I hope this is a pleasant read. As always, comments and critique are welcome and enjoyed.

It was 21:30 by the time Elizabeth made it home that night. As the SUV pulled up at her home, she glanced nervously at her watch. She was late, again. Will he be angry? She knew he'd still be awake, though she'd hoped he wasn't. Elizabeth wrung her hands and sighed heavily, she said goodnight to her security and moved inside.

Peeking into the living area, she saw Henry sitting on the couch. He must have heard her enter, turning his head and meeting her eyes. He stood quickly and moved towards her.

"Where have you been?" His tone was even and unassuming, but as he moved closer, Elizabeth flinched and took a step back, looking down at the floor. "Hey…" He reached for her again, extending his hand. Don't be kind to me, Henry. She'd braced for the chastising that would never come. He took her trembling hand in his. "I know you weren't in a meeting. You don't have your phone on you in meetings." She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it, giving her a gentle squeeze. She still stared at the floor, not knowing how to face him. "I'm… I'm sorry I scared you. And… I'm sorry I'm scaring you now." He released her hand, it fell to her side.

She finally met his eyes "You're not." her voice betrayed her though. He moved back into the living room, beckoning her to follow. She sat across from him on the three-seater, pulling off her tall heels and crossing her legs. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Henry spoke. She'd thought long and hard about what she would say to Henry. She'd had all day to think about it, and she was taken off-guard when he spoke first.

"Elizabeth… I shouldn't have accused you of interfering. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I was wrong."

Her chest squeezed tight as she remembered what he was referring to. He'd made her feel like he didn't trust her, like he thought she was actually capable for using her position to manipulate him. It hurt, but she felt he was justified. How could he trust her after Iran? You left it all behind.

"I do trust you. I was angry. I'm still…" He rubbed his face, trying to find the right words.

"You're still angry." she whispered.

"No, I mean I am, but not with you… I…"

"How could you not be!" She raised her voice a little. Her throat felt tight as the panic began to rise again. The tears were welling. "I went to Iran. I knew the risks and I still went. I left you and our children." She was shaking now, the tears rolled down her cheeks. I'm sorry. "I'm sorry!" She sobbed, turning her head away, unable to look him in the eye.

Henry looked stunned. He reached out to her but she scooted back, away from him. Don't touch me!

"I…did… that…" She gasped for breath, her eyes stung and her airways inflamed. "And you… It's like you're punishing me!" You deserve it. She tried to keep her voice down, not daring to wake the kids, but she couldn't control the heaving breaths that escaped. Grief gripped her again. Shutting her eyes, she saw Abdol, hearing his blood curdling scream; She saw Marajel Javani's face. She often thought of Zahed and his family, nearly having done the same to her own family.

She couldn't look at him. She didn't know that his own tears were falling as he watched her helplessly. She moved to get up, to flee further conflict. Henry moved quickly, encircling her with his arms and pulling her to him, holding her against his body as he rested against the armrest. She was glad her back was to him as she cried, her face a mess, but her resistance was half-hearted. "Henry! I don't want to…"

"Elizabeth stop. Please." He pleaded with her. She ceased her wriggling and let out a huff, sniffing back her tears. "I'm not punishing you. You're not being punished. Baby, please, stop blaming yourself!" His voice was high and tense.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he stopped her. "No, just listen to me. Just listen." He squeezed her tight, his arms felt safe and secure, betraying her emotional state. "I know why you went. I know you didn't have a choice, and I know that you wouldn't have gone if you weren't making the world a safer place. For all of us, for our children. It hurt me, it hurt all of us, especially you." She could hear him speaking, and she understood his words, but it did nothing to quell the swirling guilt she felt deep in her belly. He pressed his warm cheek to hers, wet with tears. "But that has nothing to do with why I went back into that building, and it has nothing to do with me wanting to rejoin DIA. I would never do that to you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to halt the steady flow of her tears. She tried desperately to believe his words, she knew he was right. Henry was not a vengeful man, he was kind and reasonable, but she couldn't help but feel the two were connected. She sat still, trying to let his presence soothe her, trying to regain control of her rapid breathing. He body was still, but her mind was not.

-o-

She'd been quiet for an entire minute. Henry could feel her breaths steadying, but still she said nothing. "Elizabeth, please talk to me."

She shifted in his arms and he released his grip, letting her turn to face him. They now sat cross-legged, facing one another again. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. He swallowed thickly, guilty again. He'd never seen her so broken. He dipped his head, seeking her eyes. She met them briefly before shying away.

"When you were in the hospital…" He could see the tears welling again. "I couldn't help but think about… I was so scared. Henry, what if It hadn't been a limited exposure? What if you…" She shook her head, looking into his eyes.

"What If I'd died?" He finished for her. She blinked her tears back, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Yes." Her voice sounded tired and hoarse. She needed to sleep, but he knew she needed this. They both did.

He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin, reassuring her. He wanted to speak, to help her find the words that were clearly stuck in her throat, but he knew this was hers, and that she needed to say it to him.

"I know you did what you had to. You did the right thing. You saved that woman's life."

"Yes, but that doesn't make your feelings invalid."

"It's selfish of me…" Of course she would feel selfish. "Henry, I can't do this alone. I can't lose you." She looked away, fiddling with the fabric of her blouse.

He took a deep breath, squeezing her hand, nodding. He was so in tune with her, he knew she would adopt his rate and breathe with him. You'll never be alone. He wanted to interrupt again, to insist that she was safe, that he would be there, but he let her speak.

"I don't know who I am… I'm nothing without you." Her voice broke over her last words. He couldn't bear to hear her say things like that, to think that about herself. His heart broke all over again, reaching out to her, desperate to protect her from herself.

"Come on, come here." Henry pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. She felt so small in his arms; Vulnerable like a child. She clutched at his shirt, quiet tears staining the fabric. "You are not nothing. You are everything to me, and you are everything to our beautiful children." He rubbed her back, feeling her body release some tension. "You are strong, intelligent, gorgeous, and the most beautifully minded woman I've even known. You were this woman when I first met you, and every day after I've fallen deeper in love with you."

Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes still shimmered with tears. The sight squeezed his heart, and it fluttered at her proximity. Henry slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek, tasting her salty tears. He gave her a watery smile as she leaned into him. "I love you. You still take my breath away. Every. Day." I'll never leave you.

She nodded, tears rolling now for different reasons. "I love you too." Her voice was raspy and barely audible, but he heard her. Her body spoke what she was unable to describe in words. He would hear her even if she never spoke again.