Happy Saturday! Sorry, life got in the way with school vacation. But, I'm back. Thank you for all your reviews and follows! Seven is a lucky number for me. So, welcome to Chapter Seven and the reunion. Have a great weekend.

Chapter Seven

Saturday, April 27, 1996

He could hear her talking faintly.

"Henry, it's time to wake up," she whispered softly to him and kissed the top of his hand.

He felt her soft lips on the back of his hand. The soreness and tightness of something wrapped around him. He felt too tight. He squinted a bit but the lights were so bright. He closed his eyes again, thinking he was still dreaming and wanting to be there. Not in the bright space.

She looked him over. His shoulder wrapped tight with a what looked like a bucket of ice on it. The bandages on his chest. His head tilted to his left side as he slipped back into sleep.

She whispered again, "Henry, it's okay. I am here."

Those three words forced his eyes to flutter again. He caught a glimpse of her crystal eyes staring into his as he opened up a little more. Then she smiled and he knew he wasn't dreaming. He grinned back and sensed somebody else there. The nurse standing on the other side of his bed.

"Hey you," she whispered to him again.

"Hi," he said weakly. His mouth was as dry as sand. He had no idea where he was.

Elizabeth reached for the small white cup on the bed table. She held the straw out for him, "Here take a drink."

As he squinted as he looked around, he recognized it as a hospital room. The stark white walls and bright white lighting was too much.

"Am I home?" he asked weakly as he squinted against the lights that hurt his head.

She ran a hand through his greasy, sticky hair, "No, Germany." There it was again the tear she didn't feel. He tried to reach for it but the IV held him back. She placed his hand gently back down against the soft white sheet. Then, wiped her own tear.

"They had to put you out on the helicopter and they kept you out through your surgery," she explained.

He tried to move again, the nurse's soft voice, "Stay easy. It will take a bit for you to recover." Her voice was caring, her smile warm. Her dark brunette hair was pulled in a bun at a lower angle and slightly messier than he normally saw. He thought to himself "Great. Army."

He glanced back at Elizabeth, "Where's Stevie?"

"She's at home with your parents," she answered. "She's fine. Don't worry. I just hung up from them."

Her hand continued to run through his hair gently. "Speaking of which," she took something off the table near the bed and held up a plastic baggie up containing their family photo from the day Stevie was born. "Stuck between your ass cheeks, Captain. Seriously?!"

He winced trying not to laugh, "Would you have rather they found it?"

"Good point," she winked at him and kissed him gently on the lips. He went for more, "No, you need to rest first." She settled her hand on his chest.

"How's Judy?" he asked.

Elizabeth shifted backwards and tilted her head at him, realizing he already knew. She gently asked the nurse if they could have a minute.

As soon as the door closed behind her, "You know?" she questioned, her brow furrowing.

He looked away, "Yes, he was dead when we crashed. He got caught in his parachute and landed the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" she asked, shaking her head at him.

"I don't know how it happened but when I found him he was tangled and dead in his parachute," Henry answered her. "His neck broke in the fall"

"I am so sorry" she said, the tears flowing as she leaned down she held his hand a little tighter.

"Hey babe. It's okay. I'm alive," he said to her, his voice still weak and groggy.

They stayed there for a minute or two as time stood still. Nothing else mattered just the two of them. Happy to be reunited, but grieving for their friend and his family.

It took him a bit to think then he asked, "Libby? Did they recover her?"

Elizabeth teared up to tell him. "Libby", his most favorite fighter jet ever with the nickname for Liberty but also his wife's name, had exploded on crashing and had been difficult to recover. She didn't have it in her to give him the truth right now, "They are working on it."

He went silent again and stared out the window. Elizabeth watched him intently as his thoughts seemed to leave the room. She knew this.

The sound of both engines being shot out and Greg's panic as he missed spotting the black Mig that had pulled in behind them. They ejected as she was on an angle tilting right heading nose down. He remembers floating through the air, his life flashing before him. He knew Greg was above him so he couldn't see him. He caught the gray flash of Libby and the black pouring out of her engines out of the corner of his eye. The wind took him and Greg too far diagonally away from them. Time stood still as every moment with Elizabeth passed his mind as he soared down, praying he surivived.

Her golden mane pulled back in a loose ponytail on a bright September morn when she first stepped into his life in a UVA classroom. She locked him in with her crystal blue gaze that day. The white sundress against her tan skin as she ran to him upon the ending of his second deployment. Her sweat on her brow causing the wisps of her hair to stick there as she gave birth to their first child just a few short months ago. It was her and the strength of their love that would keep him alive. He knew that.

She wiped tears as she watched him. "Henry," she softened her voice with a touch on his arm as she sat staring at him. "You okay?"

He snapped out of it and stared at her asking, "What's wrong with my shoulder?"

"Dislocated, badly. When they lifted you into the helicopter. It must have been injured in the beatings and just tore out," she said through sniffles. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," he whispered. He thought for a moment and looked at the clock on the wall, seeing it was at 12:30am. "What day is it?"

"Just turned Saturday," she answered.

He had counted the days and knew that he was brought out just late in the day on Friday. "How did you get here so fast?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

She looked down and whispered, "classified," then lifted her head and smirked at him. "For now." She had only arrived minutes before they had her wake him up but he didn't need to know that yet.

He put his head back and fell back asleep letting the pain meds take over. She closed her eyes as well.

The sunset cast a pink glow in the nursery, Marie tucked Stevie's little pudgy arm into the sleeve of her pajamas. "Oh beautiful girl, your Mommy is bringing Daddy home. Then, you can smile again. They'll be here as soon as you wake in the morning."

Erin stepped in with a bottle in her hand. She had taken Elizabeth's place with the bedtime feedings and was enjoying the time bonding with her niece.

Marie kissed the baby on her cheek, fought back tears as she handed her over to Erin, her own spitting image. "You know, Stevie is as lucky as you are to be the spitting image of her mother. She even feels her emotions like her mother."

Erin smiled at her and took the baby in her arms and began to rock. "She has her parents' strength and she'll be just fine, Mom. Although, I checked her closet, no cute red, white and blue dress to be found. We will have to buy her one." Her mother smiled back and left the room.