A/N: I have had terrible writer's block. Until today, when I thought about the idea I had to lengthen The People Left Behind. This will not be the same as it was as it's now in the third person and I don't plan on jumping around in time. I have plans for it to be much longer and go much deeper into the time Henry and Elizabeth spent apart. Don't worry, the original will stay up. Also, Save Me will not be abandoned, I just had to get the creative juices flowing again.
Washington, DC – October 2003
"I got new orders today." That's the first thing Elizabeth says as she walks into her bedroom at ten at night. Henry's head pops up from the book he had been reading. This shouldn't be a surprise. Not really. Elizabeth sits on the Al Queda desk at the CIA. The US is at war with Iraq because of Al Queda. So, of course, this would happen eventually. He remembers Elizabeth's face when he received his call to service. He hadn't entirely understood her fear then. It's what he had signed up for, after all. But being on the other side of this conversation, he understands now. His heart speeds up without his permission. And his palms go sweaty even if Elizabeth signed up for this.
"I'm forward deploying to Iraq. It'll be a yearlong tour." She sits on the bed beside him when Henry says nothing. "I got the kids a calendar, so you can keep track of the deployment and count it down. I will write them, and we can talk on the phone. I've been assured that I will mostly be on base, running interrogations, not doing any OPS."
She's trying to sell it. Make it sound safer than it is. Making it sound like a mission in the middle of a combat zone is anything but. Henry maintains his silence. What else can he do? Say no? That's not possible. If Elizabeth doesn't go, Elizabeth deserts. Elizabeth goes to prison. So his wife will deploy to a war zone. Not to fight a war but to gather intel. She will be shot at, and bombs will go off around her even if she stays on base. But he married a spy. He knew this could happen. And Elizabeth has been in dangerous situations before, like Chechnya and Bosnia.
"It'll be fine," she says quietly. "We've done this before." They have. They have done this many times before. They can do long distances. They can do the duty-bound separation. But he doesn't want to. Not again. It feels impossible to do it again. Henry swallows hard. He knows what he needs to do. She's the one who has to leave. He's the spouse who has to stay at home. He needs to shoulder the pain of the separation, the fear of the what-ifs. So he will do that so that she can focus on her job. So she can get through the year. So she can come home.
"When do you leave?" Henry asks. His voice is heavy with emotion. His fear for her is almost palpable. He would love for the fear to be unreasonable, but it isn't. His wife is going to war.
"Tomorrow evening," Elizabeth whispers. She looks directly into Henry's eyes. His hand cups her face, and his thumb runs across her lower lip. He looks at her, trying to commit every tiny detail of her face to his memory. Her eyes are wide open and shining with tears. Her lips part slightly, and his thumb traces the contours of her lips. He kisses her forehead, and she closes her eyes.
"That's so soon." He says as he leans in to kiss her. She meets him halfway. Both of them pour the fear of the possibility of Elizabeth's death into the kiss. It doesn't take long before their bodies are pressed into one another. Henry's hands slip under her shirt, and his fingers run along her skin. Her lips part, and her tongue slips into his mouth.
Henry pulls away and gives his wife a hard, desperate look, "Promise me this won't be the last time we do this" His voice is raspy and full of unshed emotion. His words are barely audible. He wants to say more. He wants to tell her how much he loves her and how much he needs her. But he can't. He doesn't have the words. He only has his actions. He only musters this physical expression, hoping she can feel his feelings. Hoping it's enough.
"I will do everything in my power to come home to you." Her smile tells him everything he needs to know. She kisses him again, more passionately. Their tongues dueling against each other. Henry raises Elizabeth's shirt over her head, and his lips attach themselves to her neck. He feels her shiver beneath his touch. She moans and holds his head against her. His hands softly graze over the bare skin of her stomach as he removes her bra and lays her down.
He moves to straddle her body, taking care to not put too much weight on her. He slides down her body, kissing every inch of her skin he passes. He takes a nipple into his mouth and flicks it to a peak with his tongue. Elizabeth arches her back, causing Henry's erection to press against the fabric of his pants. He continues to suckle on her breast while his other hand finds its way down her pants.
Elizabeth is panting as she tries to catch her breath. Henry's hand grazes over her core, never providing enough pressure. He's teasing her but not entirely playing the game. He knows exactly how far to push her to drive her crazy. He wants her to remember this. Just in case it is their last time.
His fingers find her entrance, and his thumb rubs her clit. Elizabeth grunts, pushing herself up and grinding her hips against his hand. Her breathing becomes shallow and labored as she climbs higher. But then, his hand is gone. She groans at the loss. Henry's kisses move down her stomach. His tongue laps at her belly button and then moves further south. Elizabeth's breathing is growing labored once again. Henry slowly pulls her pants off of her body. She kicks them off to the side, and Henry kisses the inside of her thigh. He uses his teeth to tease her, and Elizabeth squirms beneath him.
"You look so beautiful like this." Henry praises her from his spot between her legs. He strokes her thighs building even more anticipation. He places a kiss right over her clit. Elizabeth lets out an agonizing groan that makes Henry smile. He runs his flat tongue slowly from her entrance to her clit. He barely touches the tip of his tongue to her glistening nub.
"Oh god." Elizabeth's back arches, and she bites her bottom lip. Henry begins small circles around her clit with his tongue. A moan leaves her lips. She grabs onto Henry's hair.
"Please..." Elizabeth begs. Henry responds by sucking on her clit.
"Henry," Elizabeth moans his name, and it's like music to his ears. Elizabeth's body shakes as her nails dig into his scalp. He doesn't stop pleasuring her, and within seconds, Elizabeth screams into the crook of her arm as she comes. Henry moves up her body and kisses her.
"You have to come home to me." He whispers against her lips.
"I promise," Elizabeth replies.
He says as he guides himself into her. As soon as they're joined, Henry rests his forehead against hers. They look deeply into each other's eyes, and both feel like crying. They move slowly against one another, trying to commit every detail of how it feels to be joined together to their memories. They know they both have cold and lonely nights ahead of them. Long nights spent wishing they could stay in this moment forever. A tear makes its way down Elizabeth's cheek, and Henry quickly wipes it. Elizabeth can't explain it, but something about tonight feels so final like something is screaming at her not to go. But she pushes the feeling away, not wanting to take anything away from this moment with Henry.
"I love you," Henry whispers as he gains speed. The fear of Elizabeth dying fills his mind as he pushes deeper inside her. Sometimes they cannot speak because of the emotions pouring out of them. This is one of those moments. A moment so clouded with the possibility of finality. With the reminder of their mortality. With the regret of their chosen professions.
"I love you." Elizabeth echoes, and she starts to cry.
They cling to one another as they join in this final act together. Their movements are now erratic and desperate. They both fight for the end of their physical connection and desperately want more. The room is filled with soft gasps and moans. Henry's hand reaches between them, and he feels his wife squeeze around him. Her release is fast and emotional. She lets out a sob into his shoulder, and Henry follows soon after. They lay there with their hearts beating wildly in their chests. Henry wraps his arms tightly around his wife. He cannot imagine what it would be like without her.
The silence is deafening. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything.
"I'm sorry, I have to go." Elizabeth finally breaks the quiet.
"Don't apologize; I understand," Henry whispers.
She rests her head on his chest and sighs heavily. Henry strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head.
Neither of them sleeps. Elizabeth lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Henry alone. Alone for a year. Alone for more than a year. It's not her death that scares her. She's not afraid of dying. She made peace with her death at seventeen when the CIA recruited her. Death is always a possibility. She's not scared of dying. She's afraid of leaving them alone. Henry and her precious babies. Her babies. What if she dies? What if she never comes home? What will happen to them?
Elizabeth refuses to think about these things. Instead, she thinks of the man lying next to her. Henry's strong arms wrapped tightly around her. His eyes are closed, but his breathing isn't even. He is just as awake as she is.
"You're going to be okay alone with the kids?" She asks. Although she knows he will be. Henry is an active parent. He has always been a great dad. from the moment she handed him a little onesie to tell him she was pregnant with Stevie. Henry took care of her. When she needed help, Henry stepped up. When she needed space, Henry gave it to her. He was constantly thinking of ways to make sure she felt safe. She knows that besides her, Henry lives for his children.
"Yes, we'll be fine." He wants to laugh at her question, but he doesn't. He can feel the maternal worry oozing off of her. Elizabeth is an anxious mother. Elizabeth is an anxious person. He's since learned that most spies are anxious. At first, he thought the job made them that way, but now he believes they're recruited because they are naturally that way. Because worrying about everything helps them do their jobs. It allows them to remain calm in a crisis because they are always in a situation in their own mind.
"And you'll make sure you'll take pictures of them, like on the first day of school. And you'll take Stevie and Allison dress shopping for the father-daughter dance at school. And Jason, you can handle the terrible two's temper tantrums alone?" Elizabeth's words exit her mouth in a flurry. Her palms are sweaty, and she's practically vibrating with anxiety.
"Yes. Elizabeth, I can take care of them. I will handle everything. I promise." He says calmly as he holds her.
"You'll be okay if..." She can't finish the sentence. The what-if hangs heavy in the silence of their bedroom. It suffocates both of them. They don't want to know what could happen. They don't want to think about the worst-case scenario. But they can't stop the thoughts from invading their minds.
"I will take care of them." That's the promise he makes. He doesn't say that he will be okay because he's not sure he would be if the worst were to happen. But he would take care of their children. He would keep them safe. He would give them the childhood Elizabeth knew growing up. He would teach them all of the things she would want them to know. He would remind him of her love for them. Of how much she loves being their mother.
Henry promises he will take care of them.
"Okay," Elizabeth mumbles. "I'll make them banana-bacon pancakes for breakfast. And we'll tell them I'm leaving." She tries to sound upbeat. She's trying to put a happy ending to a tragic story. This is not a fairy tale. This is real life. Maybe it's too real. But here they are. The only way to go is forward.
... …. …. ….
Stevie doesn't cry. She doesn't show any emotion. Stevie is eight and a half going on eighty-five. She is an old soul. A part of her was made centuries ago, and it's a part that makes her calm. It makes her hug her mom tight at the Air Force base. It makes her tell her she loves her. It makes her stay strong so her mother's tears don't fall. She watched as her father pried her little brother out of her mom's arms. Jason is still crying. Allison is crying, but Stevie won't. She will not let her mommy down.
"I love you all so, so much." Elizabeth places one more kiss on the top of her eldest's head. And then Henry gives her a look as he struggles to keep Jason in his arms. So Elizabeth knows she needs to leave. She turns her back on her family. On her screaming toddler. On her silently crying four-year-old. On her stoic firstborn. One her husband, the love of her life. The man whom she is leaving alone with her whole soul. She's sure her soul is being left with them. She will not take it with her to Iraq. She doesn't want to risk losing it.
She's the last one on the plane. CIA case officers get seats where they can. She takes the last seat on the C-130. The soldier next to her can't be old enough to go. He has to be in High School. As she looks around, she notices that she is surrounded by teenagers. By children. This shouldn't surprise her. George thought the same thing of her when he met her at the farm. He told her that she looked too young to be training. And she was just out of High School, just like all of the soldiers on this plane.
There's a thick tension on the plane that everyone is trying to break with jokes. All kinds of jokes. They are high schoolers, she thinks again. Elizabeth thinks about their parents, who watched their babies get on this plane to fly into war. Suddenly, she's relieved that at least her parents don't have to do this. That at least her kids are safe. So she puts Elizabeth away, planning to do so for the following year. And Bess takes her place. It's only a year. She can handle a year.