A/N: Hello! An update the very next day? Who am I? (I am a student procrastinating because her brain has shut off after Thanksgiving Break, that's who I am.)

This is a longer one, and will probably be the last for a few days at least since I'm coming up on finals. Wish me luck!

Hope you enjoy!

December 15, 2014

With a reliability that Elizabeth normally appreciates, but today is annoyed by, Nadine is standing outside the elevator doors when they open with her clipboard tucked between her arm and chest. And of course, the ever-loyal Blake is standing beside her with a white paper bag neatly folded three times from the top. He's stretching his arm out as Nadine greets her with her usual, "Good morning, ma'am," whenever they stand at the elevator together.

Elizabeth takes the first step out of the elevator and feels like her head might spin her right over backwards, but she makes herself continue to walk toward the pair. "Good morning," she manages to say, gently taking the bag from Blake's hand and giving him a forced smile.

He nods back at her as they start walking down the hall together, Blake trailing along as Nadine walks closely behind her. "Mike B is in the conference room and waiting on you already this morning, ma'am, and—" Nadine's voice cuts off as soon as Elizabeth hears additional footsteps that seem to be following. She turns and looks to see Matt and Daisy following, too, "And as you can see, Matt and Daisy want to talk to you, too, about going on Face the Nation."

Elizabeth keeps her head forward, never stopping even when she looked back to find the other two following. "I'm good," she says, "I've talked to Bob before."

"But ma'am," Daisy says, "This is a different story altogether. We need to brief on what happened." She says, her heels clicking against the floor a little faster before Elizabeth realizes she's right up beside her arm now. "This is a huge story, ma'am, and you are the hero in the center of it all."

Elizabeth stops just before she's reached the waiting area for her office, not far from Blake's desk, turning abruptly to face Daisy head on. She lifts her hand, her palm facing Daisy lazily as she tries to fathom the words that came out of her mouth. "What did you just say to me?" She asks, opening her eyes just barely to squint at Daisy through her glasses.

"It's a huge story," Daisy says, then continues when Elizabeth doesn't say anything else, "And that you're the hero in the—"

"I never want to hear those words again," she says, "How can you say that after attending Fred Cole's funeral just three days ago?" Her voice is low, but there's venom dripping from every word. She throws her hand to the side and shakes her head, "Fred Cole, who threw his entire body in front of me to keep me alive." She says, her voice raising just slightly now. She catches Nadine looking around to see if anyone is noticing, but Elizabeth doesn't react to it, "That is the definition of heroism, Daisy, and if you use that word again it'll be the last time you ever use any word for the State Department. Is that clear?"

Daisy is just staring at her with wide eyes, tucking her tablet closer to her chest, "Yes ma'am," she says, but Elizabeth still picks up on the tone of Daisy's voice that she was using.

She starts to say something else but finally decides she doesn't have the energy for it this morning if she's also going to have to bicker with Mike B, too. Instead, she just throws away the rest of her angered, frustrated thoughts and starts moving toward her office again, the trek feeling extra long this morning as her coat swishes against her thighs.

When she reaches her waiting area, she sees a woman sitting in there with scrubs, "Nadine," she says, stopping again, "What is a nurse doing in my waiting area?"

Nadine looks at her sheepishly and Elizabeth pulls her stare away from the nurse, "Well, ma'am," she says, "The doctor who treated you in Iran insisted that you follow up, and your team of doctors here have tried to—"

"I don't need anyone to follow up with me, Nadine, I'm fine." She barks, turning and facing Nadine as she tries to steady her breathing. She takes one, big and deep breath through her nose and watches as her nostrils flare in the corner of her eye, "I'm quite capable of following up with doctors on my own."

"But ma'am, it's literally doctor's orders." Nadine argues.

Elizabeth turns to Blake as she tries to keep the fire in her eyes in her eyes and not blast it out to anyone right now. "Please escort this woman out and apologize for wasting her time," she instructs him.

He swallows thick, "Ma'am," he says, "It came straight from the President that you follow up today." He says, his voice actually shaking.

When she realizes he's so nervous because of her, she takes another breath and closes her eyes. Conrad, she thinks to herself, letting out a huff of air. Of course Conrad would think she was just shirking her health, she normally would. But in this case, she really has followed up with a doctor, just under a pseudonym so good that apparently the President of the United States didn't even know about it.

She opens her eyes to find Blake and Nadine still staring at her, and she just turns her head and walks to the nurse, "I'm so sorry that there's been a mix-up," she says, "But I've already followed up with a team of doctors."

"I—" the nurse starts, then smiles sympathetically at Elizabeth, "I was sent by your doctor, ma'am." She says, swallowing thick. "From Walter Reed after your visit. She wants to make sure your bloodwork is still alright."

Elizabeth stares at her for a moment, hating that she's been blindsided by everyone this morning. As she's staring, the screaming starts in her ears again so loudly that she just has to turn away and walk into her office doorway, "Come on in, then," she says, walking through and seeing Mike B, Gordon, and the woman from the ecological department.

Immediately, Gordon jumps off the couch and rushes to Elizabeth, jumping up and putting his paws on her thighs. "Hi Gordon," she says, a little frustrated that Mike would just let him jump on her like this. She shoots Gordon's owner a look and Mike just stares at her, raising his brows with his mouth slightly open. He's wearing a smirk, and Elizabeth would like nothing more than to slap it from his face right now. "Would you get your dog?" She asks, pushing Gordon's nose away from her midsection as the nurse stands beside her.

Mike stares at her for a moment longer and his eyes drop down to where Gordon's nose left a wet mark on her gray skirt, "Gordon," he finally says, adding a swift whistle before the dog came back to him and sat beside him on the couch.

Elizabeth straightens up and swallows thick, "I'm going to need just a moment longer, I'm afraid," she says, looking over at the nurse as she walks to her desk and settles in. "Getting shrapnel blown into your side really puts a damper on things." She adds, watching as the ecology woman starts gathering her things and immediately is leaving.

But Mike. Mike just sits on the couch with his arm resting on the back of it, watching Elizabeth with an intensity that she's never seen him have before. "Alright," he says finally, "Come on, Gordon, we're not welcome here." He says to his dog as they get up, walking out.

Blake shuts the door once they were gone and leaves just the nurse with Elizabeth. She plops down in her chair and looks up at the nurse, "Why did Dr. Hoole send you?" She asks.

"Bloodwork, ma'am." She says, "That was the truth." Her hands are working to set up a tube and a needle as she's talking. Elizabeth looks down at the supplies and swallows hard, looking away out the window.

"Why did no one warn me?" She asks.

The nurse clears her throat, "I'm sorry, Madam Secretary, I don't know." She admits.

Elizabeth sighs because she knows she's probably telling her the truth, she probably was just told to do something and is now doing her job faithfully. She just extends her arm out on her desk and leans her other arm on the chair, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"One, two…" the nurse counts quietly, and on two the needle was pushed into her arm. She wonders when nurses stopped getting to three briefly before Blake comes in the office.

"Ma'am," he says softly, cringing when his eyes make contact with the blood coming from her arm and sliding through the tubing. He looks like he's about to gag, but he keeps his eyes steady on hers, "I'm sorry for not warning you this morning." He says.

She looks at him and narrows her eyes, "Why did you not?" She asks, thinking there surely must be a reason.

She can see his throat move when he pauses, and she raises her brow wondering what's coming next. "Dr. McCord told me you would probably avoid coming in today if I warned you." He admits.

Her chin slides off her hand and she groans, letting her head fall back to the back of her chair. "I'm going to need you and my husband to stop texting." She says.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I figured he was probably right."

And he probably was right. She would've done anything she could to avoid what's happening right now. But instead of admitting that, she just sighs and nods, "Thanks Blake," she says, dismissing him in a soft way.

He nods and leaves the room just as the nurse is taking the needle from her arm and beginning to wrap it up, "All set," she says, "If Dr. Hoole sees any cause for concern she'll call within the next day." She explains, gathering her things up.

"Thank you," Elizabeth musters, watching as the woman starts to leave.

When the door shuts behind the nurse, it immediately opens again with Mike and Gordon barreling through. "What was that about?" He asks, shutting it behind him.

"Where's Laura?" She asks, noticing that the other woman didn't follow him.

"I told her to wait outside." He says, walking to her desk and folding his arms over his stomach, raising his brow down at Elizabeth.

Her teeth grit to one side as her jaw tightens, her left hand pinching and releasing the fabric of her skirt underneath her desk. She finally stands up and leans over her desk at him, not in the mood to be intimidated by his masculine tactics this morning. "I was directly involved in a bombing, Mike," she says, her voice low and poisonous once more. "There was shrapnel removed from my side just days ago, so if you must know, they're keeping a close eye on me."

He shakes his head, shifting his weight to the other foot and scoffing, "Elizabeth," he says shrewdly, "I've been around enough military in my lifetime to know that's not how that works." He says, "Once the shrapnel is out and they do the initial tests to make sure it wasn't laced with anything, it's finished. They keep an eye out for infection, but as long as the wound is looking good, there's no reason for bloodwork." He states. "Now would you like to tell me what's really going on, or should I let Gordon say it for us both again?"

Again? She thinks to herself, staring him in the eye. She tries, at least, to hold that stare, but the screaming in her ears was getting so loud that she has to clench her eyelids shut as her shoulder draws up to her ear. A pain shoots through her head as though the screaming was really happening in this very room, and she slowly opens one eye before opening the other and staring at him again.

Again? She thinks once more, wondering what he was talking about. Still leaning over her desk, she narrows her eyes at him before the memory finally hits her of what happened just minutes ago. Gordon's nose. Damn the dog noses, she thinks as she straightens her body up, folding her arms over her chest and holding her stare down. "I'm not one to be intimidated into anything, Mike, and you of all people should know that." She seethes.

He laughs and widens his eyes, "Oh my God," he breathes, his hands coming up to his head, "You really are pregnant!"

The way he almost shouts it makes Elizabeth want to jump down his throat, but then it'll be really obvious to him that she's lying. She hasn't lied, yet, actually, she just hasn't been forthcoming with the truth, either. "What?" She spits, "You put too much trust in your dog's nose." She says.

He looks at her again and shakes his head, "Don't even try to play coy with me, Elizabeth, you know I'll find out." He says.

She feels herself deflate slightly when he mentions that. He's right. He will find out. Mike B finds every little piece of dirt on anyone—maybe better than the CIA can. If it's happening in Washington DC and someone needs to know, Mike is the hatchet man for the job.

She looks away over her shoulder and out the window again, her shoulder drawing up slightly as the screaming pierces her ear once more. She focuses as best she can on not losing her calm, but she finally just takes a shaky breath in and shuts her eyes, the image of blood spattering between her and Abdul's hands covering his ears playing over and over in her mind.

"Elizabeth," Mike almost barks at her.

She whips around at him, feeling her heart beating up in her neck somewhere. "Mike," she tries to growl, but instead it comes out much more of a whimper. She gasps for air for a moment and turns completely away from him, facing her back toward him and leaning backwards against her desk. She shakes her hair away from her face and fights back the urge to cry, "I swear to God, Mike, if this gets leaked I'm going to find some way to kill you." She whispers.

He doesn't speak, and it almost startles her how silent it is in the room. She wonders if she should look back and see if he's actually there or if she's been hallucinating this entire time—it wouldn't be the first time over the last few days. Her arms unfold and her palms rest on her desk at her sides, and she's just about to turn around when he finally makes a clicking noise with his tongue just once like he was about to say something and didn't.

She glances over her shoulder at him, still fighting to keep the dam closed.

"Who knows so far?" He asks.

She looks forward again, out the window that usually sits behind her when she's at her desk. "Henry," she starts, pausing for a moment, "Blake. My doctors." She adds, taking a deep breath and turning back around to face him, still standing. "This isn't something that needs to be discussed right now."

"Yes it is, Elizabeth," Mike says, "You're not being realistic right now."

"About what?" She snips.

"About all of this," he argues, pulling the chair out from her desk and finally sitting down. She watches him as he starts talking but doesn't feel the urge to sit yet, even though her feet and legs are so tired she could collapse. "A baby? You're forty-one years old, Elizabeth, and you're fourth in line for the presidency."

"I know that." She snaps at him, "Don't you lecture me about this, Mike, I'm not in the mood for it and quite frankly will never be to hear it from you." She says, "The guy who can't even pick his son up from school because he's too busy gallivanting with DCs finest whores."

When the words come off her tongue, she immediately wants to take them back. She never should've brought his son into this, but he was hitting below the belt too. And really, the women he "dated" probably were decent women, but to stoop so low to date Mike B makes them more suspicious in her mind.

"I shouldn't have—"

"No," Mike interrupts, "You shouldn't have. But since you did," he says, "Have you actually thought this through?"

"Do you think I did this purposely?" She asks, still leaning over her desk toward him. "Did you really just think that there wasn't enough stress in my life so I decided to add a baby into it?"

"There are options—"

"Not for me," she snaps, shaking her head and plopping herself into her seat. She didn't want to sit, but her legs were shaking too badly and the noise in her ears was making her feel dizzy. "This is reality now." She says, "And almost losing her last week, Mike…I'm not going to sit here and argue with you about how important this life is to me now." She retorts, shaking her head at him. "I'm not."

He's staring at her again and sighing now, "A girl?" He asks.

She looks at him and wonders how he knew—surely Gordon couldn't have communicated that much. But then it hits her that she used "her" to talk about the baby. Just a few days of knowing, but Elizabeth hadn't been able to stop referring to the baby in her head as she and her anymore. That image of her little baby girl is seared in her head permanently, no longer able to shake the thought of this not being real. "A girl." She confirms, hoping it'll shut him up so that they can get back to the eco business.

His head falls back and she watches as he blinks at the ceiling a few times, steadying his own breathing, "God," he whispers, "Not something I expected to hear in this office today."

"How do you think I felt?" She asks.

"You know there are ways to prevent pregnancy." He quips, quickly pulling his head back upright to look at her and raise his brow.

Her annoyed face shifts into a grimace, "I've heard." She says, "Is that all, Mike? Can we get back to what you're actually supposed to be here for?"

He looks at her as if she'd just grown three heads, "Elizabeth," he laughs, "You can't just act like this doesn't change things."

"It doesn't." She states simply, "Women have worked and had babies for decades in the States," she says, "Government jobs, too. I'm one of them." She reminds him, raising her brow at him. "All three of my kids were born when I was working for the CIA, and this is no different."

"Except you are fourth in line for the presidency," he says again, slower this time as though she didn't hear it the first go around. "You have one of the most stressful jobs in the country."

"And last week it proved to be a dangerous job, too." She reminds. "I've weighed the options, Mike, and it's happening." She states. "That's that."

He just stares at her again and shakes his head, his mouth hanging open slightly before he finally stands up and moves over to the couch, "Laura," he calls out, plopping down on the cushions before the woman comes in with her binder in her arms.

"Good morning, Madam Secretary." She greets again, even though she had just done so whenever Elizabeth walked in earlier with the nurse.

Elizabeth just sighs at the woman's awkwardness, nodding, "Good morning," she says, trying to sound as warm as possible even though she's pretty sure it came out icy.

"Matt, not so much with the voice." Nadine warns from the doorway, and Elizabeth looks down into her lap with a little smile, appreciative that her chief of staff stepped in, literally and figuratively, when she did.

"Your loss," Matt says to her, then shifts his attention back to Elizabeth, asking her a question about the Dalton administration that she easily explains without much thought. She explains away the questions of Munsey, of his traitorous actions, and how Dalton swept in to save it all from crashing and burning.

Matt looks at his questions on the paper, "Well," he says, "Some would argue you did that," her reference to Dalton saving the entire situation really should've been credited to Javani, the man who lost his life for the coup, but she is tasked with making her administration look good, too. "First by uncovering the conspiracy," he adds, "And second, by your unprecedented trip to Iran."

She looks down into her lap, her left hand holding onto the chair's arm. Pinch. Release. "Come on," she says, "He's not gonna ask that." She declares, her free thumb scratching at the material on her skirt at the top of her thigh. She could almost focus on the sound of her fingernail scratching enough to quiet the screaming in her ears, but she couldn't silence it. She hasn't found a way to silence it yet.

"Well," Daisy pipes up, "It's a fair interpretation of the facts, ma'am." She says.

Elizabeth clears her throat and continues to look down, "Fine," she answers, picking her head up before going on to answer his question.

"Madam Secretary," Matt continues, "You were present when Foreign Minister Javani was killed, along with several others."

"Yeah," she says, dropping her gaze again to her thumb nail scratching against her skirt. "Yes, I was." She recognizes that her voice sounds distant, and she makes a scribbled note in her head to fix that the next time she opens her mouth.

"Tell me about that horrifying scene."

The way he says it so casually makes her blood boil, and her thumb digs into her skirt and pokes her leg through it.

"Who was there with you," he says, "And what happened?"

The screams in her ears are getting louder again. She can no longer hear the scratching of her nail, she can no longer hear the clock ticking in the distance. Instead, the tick-tock has turned into pop-pop, the sounds of the gunfire before she felt Fred's body go limp on top of hers. Another explosion blasts through her ears and she feels her body shudder, hearing herself scream over Abdul's tortured wails, "Abdul! Stay down!"

"Ma'am?" Nadine says, taking a step closer to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth pops her head around to look at her chief of staff standing in the conference room's doorway, and she catches a glimpse of her left hand doing the same pinch and release move it had been doing this entire time. She swallows hard and looks back at Matt and Daisy who are staring at her with wide eyes. "Want me to give that again?" Matt asks timidly.

"You know what?" Nadine interrupts, "Why don't we take a break, okay?"

"Yep." Elizabeth breathes, pushing herself out of the chair tiredly and making a beeline for her office.

When she turns to close her door, she sees Nadine putting her hand against the wood, "Ma'am," she says quietly, a softness to her voice that she hadn't really ever heard her use. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

"What is it, Nadine?" Elizabeth asks, not budging by moving out of the way. She stands her ground with her hand on the doorknob, trying to keep it from pinching that, too.

Nadine looks over her shoulder to make sure no one was around, then looks down and back into Elizabeth's eyes, "Not as your chief of staff, ma'am, but as two mothers."

Elizabeth stares at her for a moment, searching her eyes for any hint of fraud niceness, but she can't find anything. Maybe she's simply too exhausted to find it, though, but she doesn't care at this point. The conversation with Mike B this morning wiped her, truly, and then the situation with Chip Harding and China and the oil issue didn't help anything. She moves out of the way and gestures into her office without saying another word.

Nadine stays behind as Elizabeth walks over to the couch, plopping down on the end cushion and resting her elbow on the arm, tucking her hand into her hair and propping her head up. She simply looks at Nadine, unsure of what else to say.

"I know I'm speaking out of turn," she starts, walking just barely inside the door as though Elizabeth might pounce on her at any moment. "But as a mother myself…" Nadine sighs before looking down, licking her lips once, "Ma'am, are you alright?" She asks finally.

Elizabeth narrows her eyes at her, "I'm fine, Nadine." She says, "There's just been a lot that has happened over the—"

"What I saw in there did not look like you were fine, with all due respect."

Elizabeth wants to argue back with her, but she's too tired. She's argued all she can for the day. And besides, Nadine was right. Those moments of complete silence from Elizabeth—she has no idea how long, exactly—couldn't have looked good. She just looks into her lap and sees her left hand grabbing her skirt hem, pinching, releasing once more. "I'm a little shaken up from everything that happened is all." She says.

Nadine swallows hard and nods, "I can tell." She whispers, tilting her head sympathetically.

When she did this, something about it reminded Elizabeth of the way her mother used to look at Elizabeth whenever she'd had a bad day. It made her want to tear up on the spot, but she just blinks a few times to hold her composure together. "Is that all?" She asks quietly, her voice sounding as though it's afraid of itself when it comes out of her mouth.

The woman in front of her looks down again, visibly uncomfortable with what she's about to say, "Mother to mother," she says softly, "I think I see the signs." She says, and Elizabeth picks her head up and stares at Nadine. Two people in one day finding out isn't a good thing, if that's what she's on to. "Whenever I was pregnant with my son," her mouth pulls up into a little, tiny smile that actually has innocence written all over it, "I used to lay my hand on my stomach any time I felt nervous—any time I felt scared, actually. I was living in New York City then, and there were a lot of times I was scared, I'll admit." She says, "I'm sorry if I've overstepped, but there have been other signs. Today…today made me realize it."

Elizabeth can't fight this one, either. She just looks down into her lap and watches as the tears cloud her vision, her breath hitching as she tries to breathe deeply. Her shoulders wrack once and Nadine is walking over to her, sitting on the couch with her. On a normal day, she would've been way too close to Elizabeth for her own comfort, but today was no normal day. She had been exhausted going into the day, and now she's definitely exhausted.

"I didn't mean for it to happen." Elizabeth defends herself, thinking back to when Mike B accused her of…whatever that even was.

Nadine just lets out a sad excuse for a laugh, shaking her head and looking down, "Me either," she says, her voice sounding almost as if she were actually making a joke.

Elizabeth looks over at the other woman and smiles pitifully, "It was such a huge shock." She whispers, "I didn't believe it for the longest time, and then when I finally believed it, I wasn't sure I was ready to have my life changed all over again on top of all this…" her voice trails off, wanting to blab about the Munsey issue and the coup and everything else that has been dumped into her lap since Marsh died, but she refrains. "On top of becoming Secretary of State in a really tough time to do so." She finally says.

Nadine nods, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Madam Secretary." She says, looking down into her own lap. Elizabeth becomes incredibly conscious of her hand doing the pinching and releasing again and tries to make it stop, but instead it's taken over by shaking. She just hopes Nadine won't notice. "So…what did you decide?"

"There really was no decision," Elizabeth states, shaking her head and letting her other hand rest on her stomach without thinking twice about it—tiredness had truly taken over. "Henry and I came to the conclusion that if we explored options that the 'what ifs' would eat at both of us for the rest of our lives. We couldn't live like that, neither of us, so I guess we sort of made the decision then to go ahead and move forward with having a baby at our ages." She explains, babbling now, but the screaming in her ears has lessened to just a buzz, so she keeps talking. "Going to Iran was so dangerous—I knew it was. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I kept thinking that I was invincible, but I never took into account the other life I'm responsible for right now." She admits, looking down when she feels like her chest is going to cave in on itself. "And then when the worst imaginable happened…" her voice trails off and she shakes her head, taking a deep breath even though the weight is still pressing against her lungs, "I thought I'd deserved that. I deserved all the heartache of losing a child when I acted so childishly myself."

"It wasn't childish, ma'am," Nadine reminds her, "You saved an entire country, Madam Secretary, and you saved a world from enduring what could have been a rogue, nuclear Iran."

Elizabeth wants to snap again, wants to remind her who the true hero is in this situation—not her, but Fred and Javani. But Nadine means well. She's not accusing her of being a hero. She's simply stating facts. "Mothering and governing don't mix well all the time." Elizabeth admits quietly, never having heard herself say that out loud. She'd never even really let herself think it that much, but, again, tiredness had won over by now.

Nadine nods, "Even in my positions in the State Department, mothering and governing didn't always mix well," she agrees, "Which is why my adult son doesn't speak to me—or part of the reason, I suppose."

Elizabeth looks over and swallows thick, giving the woman a soft smile, "You're a good mother for recognizing that, Nadine. Truly." She says, "There's hope for you and your son."

The other woman gives her a similar smile and nods, "Thank you, ma'am." She says genuinely, staying silent for a moment before standing to her feet and brushing her suit off. "I'm sorry for overstepping this evening." She tells Elizabeth, bringing her head up to make eye contact with her again and doing a quick tilt of her head, "I just thought you maybe needed to talk to another mother."

Her heart feels like it's grown five inches since coming into this office tonight after it had been so cruelly shriveled by Mike this morning. She smiles at Nadine, nodding a little, "I did," she says quietly, "Thank you."

"Thank you," Nadine says, nodding before heading toward the door. "I'm always here, ma'am, chief of staff or as another mother."

"Is anyone up?" She asks as she walks through the hall, seeing Henry sitting in their home office.

Henry looks back with a warm smile, shaking his head a little, "All in bed," he confirms.

Her shoulders slump a little, but the ringing in her ears make her tense again. Behind him, the mirror is reflecting her face—what should be her face, at least, but instead she just looks like a ghost. She tries to pull her gaze away from it, but Abdul's figure is standing in front of her in the mirror screaming once more, and Elizabeth cringes at the way he sounds so scared. Pop pop pop. "Stay down, Abdul!" She's shouting over his screams, trying to move but instead being met with a strangling weight on her body. "Stay down!" Pop pop pop.

"Elizabeth?" His voice is somewhere, but she can't tell where. She's fixed on the mirror still, her fists balled up as both are pinching and releasing, her fingernails digging into her palms each time. "Elizabeth?"

She can't move, though, she's trying to reach out for Abdul even though her arms can't move an inch. "Stay down!" She shouts, this time outside of her head, "Stay down!"

"Elizabeth!" She recognizes the tone this time and is pulled from her mind, her head whipping around to look at her husband when he grabs her arm. She rears her hand back, gearing up to hit him, but then realizes what she's doing and stops herself.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, her heart beating so hard that she is sure she'd be able to see her chest throbbing, she straightens her coat and looks down as Henry backs away from her. "I'm fine." She says, her typical response as a blanket to put out the alarming fires that she causes.

"No," Henry says, "You're not."

"I am." She argues, looking up into his face, but avoiding his eyes. Instead, she fixes on his nose, letting the corners of her lips pull up when she remembers the image of her baby daughter's nose looking the exact same. But quickly, her smile fades when he continues to talk.

"You're not, Elizabeth." He says, "The little outburst this morning before work about Jason's bodyguard and the outburst yesterday about him needing a bodyguard—babe, this isn't you." His voice is serious, and it almost sounds as though he's mad at her, but she knows better.

Maybe he is mad, though. The way he's looking at her doesn't look all that sad right now. A mix of concern and frustration, she thinks. She simply lets her head hang down as the tears start, letting them flow down her cheeks as much as they can before letting them fall to the floor one by one.

"I know you think you can tough this one out, but guess what? You can't." Henry says sternly, "You have got to get help now before this really takes hold and gets worse."

Her head pops up and she eyes him, "I can't just drop everything and take a spa day because I'm sad." She quips.

"Stop." Henry warns, giving her that look, "You don't have to drop everything, you just need to talk to someone."

She looks down again and lets the tears fall, watching as they stain her shirt. She nods a little, just barely visible, "I know," she whispers, her voice coming out all strangled and shaky, "I'm all messed up." Her voice is just barely stronger, "One minute I'm fine, the next I'm furious, then I'm numb."

He's sliding his fingers into hers, making them stop pinching and releasing the waistband of her skirt, "You've been through a lot, babe, and that's totally normal to get like that."

"Really?" She asks, sniffling a little and wiping her tears that were tickling her nose, "Because it feels totally crazy."

"Well," he laughs quietly, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand, "On top of everything you went through, you have to remember what it was like being pregnant the other times—the hormones aren't helping your situation any." He explains, tilting his head beside her and leaning in, wrapping his arm around her carefully. She lets her body rest against his, maybe it was a bit involuntary since she was so tired, but she doesn't think much of it. "Navy SEALs get this you know." He says softly, "You tougher than a Navy SEAL?"

She swallows thick, opening her eyes and tilting her head back to look at him, "Maybe like a…a really runty one." She mutters.

He sighs and presses a kiss to her head, "Have you eaten dinner?"

"No," she says, "And we're starving."

"We?" He asks with a smile.

"We." She says. "She's really wanting a quesadilla."

"She is, huh?" Henry asks.

Elizabeth nods a little against his chest, just thankful that he doesn't push when she doesn't want him to. He's left her alone after his last comment explaining that it's okay to feel like this, that it's normal, even. He hasn't prodded more to get inside her head. And for that, she's thankful. "She is," Elizabeth confirms, "But I keep telling her that her mom is too tired to make it, so she'll just have to deal with a bowl of cereal."

He presses another kiss to her head and rubs her arm, letting go of her and walking to the kitchen. She follows along behind him, "Good thing she has a dad who really loves her mom and her then, huh?" He asks playfully, reaching for the skillet and spraying it down good.

Elizabeth sits at the table and nods, kicking her feet up on another chair, "Good thing," she confirms tiredly, leaning over and watching her husband show his love for her once again.