Washington, DC – October 2014
Henry can't tell if he's more relieved or more worried when the rest of his family is escorted into the room. He takes his time raking his over them, studying them for any visible signs of trauma. The twins are perfect—tired and confused, yes. But they seem otherwise unaffected. Jason looks exhausted, though he's scared. Henry can feel it in the air between them. He wonders how long he'll have to wait before he can get his son alone. And Allie, he can see the pain behind her eyes.
He pulls his youngest daughter into a hug and looks at his father. There is a dark purple bruise perfectly shaped like the business end of a pistol over a cut, now scabbed over. He feels anger swell within him.
"Dad?" Henry says, pulling away from Allie, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Patrick says gruffly. He's not. Henry can clearly see that as Patrick pulls Stevie into a hug. His father looks so guilty—so apologetic.
He moves his eyes back to his wife as she gathers the twins up in her arms. He can hear her whisper, "You're safe, my babies," and "Mommy loves you," as she squeezes them. He notices how her attention is solely focused on the two kids she gave birth to. He's not sure if that's conscious or subconscious. He's not sure what would hurt worse.
He turns his attention to Jason and Allie. He puts his arm around Jason, "It's okay, Bud," he assures him.
Jason sniffles and buries his head into his father's side. Henry knows that Jason wants his mom- the redhead in the room who hasn't looked at him once since he walked in here.
He watches his wife intently, trying to place his next move. He will not be leaving here without all five of his children. He refuses to throw Bobby and Drew to the wolves. It's becoming obvious to him that she's becoming too unstable to be reasonable.
"Stevie," He whispers, "Can you get Noodle and Jase to lie down? They're exhausted, so are you,"
"Yeah, Dad," She nods, but her tone and actions are still wary. He can see how much the day has scared her.
"Thank you," He whispers.
He waits for the kids to walk away before walking toward Jessica, "Can I see 'em?" he asks gently as if the twins are newborns, "Please?"
"Of course," Jessica says softly.
Henry takes Bobby, nearly cradling the seven-year-old as if he's a baby. He presses a kiss to the top of his head, "Hey, little guy. I love you," he whispers.
"It could just be the four of us," Jessica whispers. Henry swallows. He understands, to an extent, her want to erase Elizabeth once and for all. She has obviously failed at that thus far. And he can sense her desperation to make Henry fully hers.
"No, Jess. It's seven of us. Jason and Allie and Stevie are a part of our family, too," He says.
"I can't even look at them," She confesses, "It hurts too much,"
"That's not fair," Henry says softly, "Honey, they love you,"
"Not more than their deadbeat mother," She counters, "They've never loved me like they love her,"
Henry clutches Bobby, wanting to remove Drew from her arms, too. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to convince her to let him leave here with his children. He is afraid of her and for her. He wants to get her the help she quite obviously needs. But mostly, he doesn't want to trigger her back into a frenzy. He needs her to stay as calm as she seems now.
"Jess, you raised them," He tries a truth. Jess did raise them. She was there. Elizabeth was not. No matter how much that fact confuses and pains him, it will forever remain the truth. Jessica raised them. For ten years, she was there.
"And their first instinct is to go running back to her," She says, and he can hear her voice crack.
"They're scared. Their only instinct right now is to want their parents: you and me. They need us, Jess. They're just kids. We need to be here for them," Henry whispers.
"She's going to try to take them," Jessica cries.
"Jessica, you're their mother," Henry tries again with another truth. She is their mother on paper and otherwise. He knows his kids think of her as their mother.
He needs Jess to trust him. He needs her to think he is on her side. He needs her to believe they can be a happy family with the children. He needs her to let him leave.
"No," She whispers, "Not anymore,"
"You are their mother," Henry says again.
Patrick watches as his son and daughter-in-law speak quietly. He knows Henry is trying to work out an exit strategy. He can see the guilt and pain on Jessica's face. He can't quite make out what they're saying, but he can see how desperate Henry is.
The hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention when he feels someone behind him.
"Remain quiet, Mr. McCord. I'm on your side," Patrick turns to the sound of the low voice. A well-fit man dressed in normal street clothes is standing there.
"Who are you?"
"A friend of Elizabeth's. We're going to get your family out of here. You and the kids will be okay. I promise."
Patrick notices that the four agents that were assigned to them are unconscious and currently being restrained by more men in plain street clothes, "How do I know to trust you?"
"We were given a message for your son. I don't know if it means anything to you. As the poet said, Elibet, grow old along with me the best is yet to be,"
Patrick swallows. The man is right. Those words mean nothing to him, but he's sure Henry knows. The words seem to be poetic enough to be something his son would know and possibly share with Elizabeth, "Okay,"
"Okay, sir," the man nods, "Let's get you and your family out of here."
"Jessica... she's not on our side,"
"Yes, sir," The man nods as if he had known that all along. Patrick has no idea how. He doesn't have time to think about it. He knows they have to act fast, and he's glad Elizabeth has allies.
Henry is taken aback as two unknown men quickly surround his wife—one taking Drew from her arms as the other forces her to the ground. He holds his son close, knowing that if things turn south, he can use his body to shield Bobby.
"Who are you?" He asks, looking between the two men.
"Were friends, Dr. McCord," one of the men says.
"Prove it," Henry says, unable to tear his eyes away from his wife, who is fighting the guy trying to place her in handcuffs.
"Henry! Henry, please!" She yells, trying desperately to fight her way free.
"Elizabeth told us you'd be hard to convince," the man holding Drew says, "So, she told us to tell you, as the poet said, Elibet, grow old along with me, the best is yet to be."
Henry's head snaps to the man. His heart nearly flutters. If he weren't so fried and so scared, maybe it would. All the years that have passed since he wrote that letter and she remembered his words. After everything she's been through… all the time she's gone without the ability to reference their letters, he remembered his words.
"You're really a friend," He says almost under his breath.
"We are, sir. You and the children will be safe. We've got to go,"
"Wait," Henry says. He looks at Jess. She is sobbing—nearly hyper-ventilating, "You're not going to hurt her, are you?"
"No, sir. Our orders are to keep all participants alive and in temporary custody,"
Henry nods, "Jess... I have to do what I have to right now, okay? We'll work this all out, okay? I'm sorry," He can't help the words that flow out of his mouth. His heart does ache for the woman—as if he can love and hate her at the same time.
She doesn't give him an answer—her body now doubled over as she gasps for air through her tears.
He follows the men out the door, the twins, team McCord and Patrick following suit. They walk quickly to a van, the doors of which are open and waiting for them.
Clarksburg, MD – October 2014
Elizabeth is pacing the living room of this safe house Mike has them in. Back and forth, back and forth. She can't sit down. She can't sleep. She can't even stop her mind. She's terrified. Seeing her kids is what she's fought for. She's fought long and hard. And yet, it's going to happen within the next twenty minutes.
What if they hate her? She's ruined their lives—it would be valid. How is she supposed to face them? What is she supposed to say? She's never felt this nervous.
"What do I say?" She turns to Isabelle, "I... What do I say?"
"Maybe let Henry take the lead?" Isabelle offers. She's been trying to give her space. She sent Mike and Jay to the kitchen to work on press plans and start combing the files with one Isaac Bishop. She knows Elizabeth needs space to process, but she also knows how difficult this will be.
"Yeah," Elizabeth whispers, "Right, put the entire emotional load on Henry. That seems fair,"
Isabelle sighs at her friend's sarcasm, "Look, Bess, you're stressed and scared, and you're lashing out. I get it. You're a mother. Why don't you remember how to act like one,"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth snaps.
"It means that you need to stop worrying about yourself. You need to stop worrying about how they're going to feel about you. They're going to be hurt. They're going to be angry. They're going to be a lot of things. They're kids. They're not adults, and they don't understand. That's why we're here," Isabelle says, keeping her voice as calm as possible, "You need to let go of the guilt and the self-pity because they need you."
"I never forgot what it meant to be their mother," Elizabeth says in a near growl, "Everything I've done has been to keep them safe. No matter how badly I hurt myself doing it or how much they hate me for it, I did it for them. So, don't lecture me about how to be a mother,"
Isabelle stands with a small smirk on her face, and Elizbeth nods and lets out a breath.
"I see what you did there," Elizabeth mumbles.
"I'm sorry. I needed you to snap out of it," Isabelle shrugs, "Look, it's realistically not going to be a perfect reunion. You have to take it in stride, and you have to accept that they are going to lash out. And you have to remember that everything you've done is because you love them,"
Elizabeth nods, "I know,"
Isabelle gives her a sad smile and walks into the kitchen. Elizabeth takes a breath and sinks onto the couch. She takes deep breaths as she counts down the seconds. Henry will be escorted in the door with her ex-father-in-law and the five children. That was the report they got. Henry. Patrick. Kids.
She's never felt her heart beat as fast as it is now. Her palms are sweating. She's shaking. She can't sit still. It's taking all the self-control she has not to find a Percoset—just one. She's not proud of that, and she knows it would be a mistake. This whole thing is about to compound into its emotional height, and she would give anything to be able to dull the feelings stirring inside her. In a way, she's surprised the temptations stayed away as long as it has.
She's up again. Pacing. The front door is the closest. The moment they come in, the moment they cross the threshold, they're going to be reunited.
"Breathe," she whispers to herself, "You've been through worse. This is a good thing."
She hears the door. She holds her breath and waits.