"Do you want some coffee?" Henry asks Elizabeth once she's calmed down in his arms. He needs a break. He needs to step away and think about what they need to do next.
"I shouldn't," Elizabeth whispers. Her heart is still pounding in her chest. And her hands are still stiff. Henry's proud of her for saying no to the caffeine.
"Do you need your meds?" She nods so subtly that he almost misses it. He realizes that getting through this will require both of them. He also knows he will have to hold his wife up a little. Elizabeth can manage a crisis better than most people. But maybe this one is different. This isn't any crisis. This is Jason. Their baby. They've always joked about which one of them wanted to go for three, but the truth is that neither of them did. Jason was an exciting accident. It took so long between Stevie and Allison. And then Allison's birth was so rough they both had thought their lucky number three would never happen. But it did on a night after two nights of missed pills. He remembers Elizabeth staring dumbfounded at the pregnancy test. She'd laughed when she finally processed the positive result. He remembers the way her hand delicately rested on her still-flat belly. The excitement of having a child again. She was giddy with joy. He was too.
Finding out that their number three was a boy was even more remarkable. Henry had settled into being a girl dad. He loved the tea parties and tiaras. But the chance for a boy, for Jason. It meant he could be the father he always wanted. The father that little Henry had deserved. And he feels that he has failed at that. That he hasn't been the best father to his son. Right now, he feels like he fell into Patrick McCord's shoes. Henry has never thrown his fist through a wall or squared up to his son. He has never towered over him and screamed. But he ignored him. He realizes that now as Jason lies in a coma.
"I'm going to run home, pack us some clothes and update the girls. I'll make sure to grab your meds. Are you going to be okay alone for an hour?"
"I… yes." Elizabeth nods her head. Henry isn't so sure at the moment. Henry has spent years with her. He knows she's barely functioning. He knows how much more than an overnight bag needs to be taken care of. He knows that eventually, the news will report on the public school overdose. And then someone will find out the victim was the Secretary of State's son. He knows that Russell needs to be informed so he can control the damage. Nadine needs to be called so Cushing can fill in for Elizabeth.
"Do you want me to call Will so he can wait with you while I'm gone?" She shakes her head. She doesn't want to burden her brother. Instead, she wants to face this by herself.
"I'll be fine." Henry cups her face and studies her. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glossy. He hears the fear in her voice.
"I'm going to call Will to wait with you. You never have to pretend to be okay with me. This isn't an exception." He declares gently.
"Thank you," Elizabeth's relief is evident as her head falls back onto her husband's chest. Henry's arms tighten around her once again. This time, she's not afraid of falling. She doesn't know where the strength comes from. But she's going to trust it to hold her. It always has before. She doesn't know why this would be any different. They will do this like they do all things. Together.
"I love you." Henry kisses her lips chastely.
"I love you too." She retakes her seat next to Jason. Henry kisses her head one more time and then his sons.
As he walks out of the room, Elizabeth's detail notably doesn't acknowledge or make eye contact with him. Henry is forced to walk past them. He forces himself to keep walking. He texts his brother-in-law once he gets outside. He stands in the dark outside the hospital's main entrance for a few minutes. He can feel the tears building behind his eyes. He's scared. He's terrified.
The doctor's words keep playing over and over in his head—behavioral and personality changes. The thought of Jason waking up and being someone other than Jason is unimaginable. And yet, there's a genuine possibility that might happen. So he does what he's not supposed to do, and he googles. There's nothing helpful about the results. Bile rises in his throat as he reads. Thoughts of long-term care. Thoughts of Jason losing independence. An uncertain future is on the horizon for Team McCord.
…..
Will knocks softly on the door before opening it. He finds his sister sitting in a chair, crying quietly. She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. She looks tired and worn down.
"How're ya doing, Lizzie?" Will sits down beside her.
"I'm okay," Elizabeth says faintly. Her heart feels heavy. She wishes she could find her usual strength. If there is one thing she's known for, it is her strength. People have complimented her on it since she was fifteen. The first time she was holding her brother's hand while he got stitches after the car accident. She hadn't processed anything at that point, and she had yet to cry for her parents. Will's nurse had told her that she admired her strength. That nurse did not know her phrase would make Elizabeth strive to live up to it. Instead, it made Elizabeth value herself on her strength. Elizabeth would be expected to be strong for the rest of her life. Why can't she do that now?
"You don't look okay." Will tilts his head toward her. "Did something happen? Did the doctor say anything else?"
Elizabeth shakes her head. She still isn't ready to talk about it. How do you talk about an abject failure? Because that is what Elizabeth feels like. A complete failure. She needs to take responsibility for her actions. And yet, she can't. Not when she didn't even realize her actions were wrong. Not when she didn't notice her distance from her son.
"Jason will pull through this." Will rubs her arm gently.
"Is that brother you or Doctor you talking?" Elizabeth asks dryly.
"Both," Will smiles. "He'll be fine."
"How did I not know?" Elizabeth stares at the floor. She feels like her world has caved in around her. She can't breathe.
"He hid it," Will says simply.
Elizabeth looks at her brother. She doesn't buy it. She was in the CIA for twenty years. Elizabeth's job then and, to a large extent, her job now is to read people. To watch their body language, their expressions, and the way they move. She knows how to tell if someone is lying. That leaves her with one conclusion. She isn't home enough. She doesn't see her kids enough. She works too much. And most importantly, she needs to pay more attention to her family. Especially Jason. It hurts her that he never told her he was in pain. He hid it from her. From everyone. The guilt is crushing her. She should have seen the signs. She didn't, in any case. Her son suffered in silence for months. Elizabeth knows this has been going on for a while. She thinks back to the stalker and Jason hiding his drinking. He's been in pain for so long, and she didn't see it.
"My son almost died. And I wasn't here. I wasn't here. I'm so sorry. I'm such a shitty mother." Elizabeth's voice breaks.
"No, Lizzie, you're not. This happens in a lot of families. Everything is going to be okay. Let's focus on getting Jason better, okay?" Will tries to comfort her.
Elizabeth doesn't say anything right away. She thinks about it. She thinks about her life. About the choices that she's made. She doesn't know how to regret saying yes to the cabinet appointment. It's led to great things for her country. For her family. But what about Jason? What about her little boy? What if she sacrificed him in the name of the greater good? Could she ever forgive herself for that? She wonders what her husband has felt all day. Did he think she had abandoned Jason? Did he think she was a terrible mother? Does Henry feel abandoned by her too? Is she a bad wife? Has she dropped the ball in all areas of her life? Is that why she lost sight of Jason? Because she let everything else get in the way? She sits there for a moment, staring at the ground. Her breaths come in short pants.
"Lizzie? I need you to take a deep breath if you can. You're okay." Will says softly.
She nods.
"Okay, I want you to inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Can you do that for me?" Will asks. Elizabeth takes a long slow breath in and out.
"Henry is bringing my meds." She manages the sentence, hoping to assuage her brother's worry.
"Okay. Just keep breathing" Will rubs her shoulders.
Elizabeth focuses on her breaths. Inhaling and exhaling. The room seems to spin around her, but she doesn't care. All she cares about is the next breath. She has to stay calm. She has to try to pull herself together. She needs to find strength. The thing she gets complimented on. The thing she's built her identity around. She searches within herself for her resolve. She finds nothing. How could she? Her son almost died today. She was out of the country when it happened. She failed. She failed. She failed.
She keeps taking those slow, steady breaths. She doesn't know where she found the strength to continue. But she does. She keeps breathing. Keeps focusing on that single task. Her chest rises and falls with every breath. Her feeling of failure multiplying. Her panic rising. The doctor was right. It will be a long way back.
