TITLE: When The Rain Comes

SUMMARY: Elizabeth isn't the only one who has to come to terms with the events of Tamerlane.
Set post 1x17 - Face the Nation, slight spoilers for 1x22. Rated M for sex and language.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own, you don't sue.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first foray into this fandom, and hopefully won't be the last. I love Henry/Elizabeth and Tamerlane and Face the Nation were my favorite eps from Season 1. I wanted to write a little bit on how Henry dealt with the aftermath. Hope you enjoy!

~ % ~

When the rain comes, it seems that everyone has gone away
When the night falls, you wonder if you shouldn't find someplace
To run and hide, escape the pain
But hiding's such a lonely thing to do
I can't stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain, but I will hold you 'til it goes away

~ % ~

Elizabeth breathed a light sigh of relief as the master bedroom door closed behind her. It had been a long, emotionally draining day spent taping her appearance on that weekend's episode of Face the Nation. But finally, she was alone with her husband in their little sanctuary from the world.

Henry was sitting on the edge of the bed with a book in his hands, and smiled when he heard her deep exhalation. "Ditto," he told her.

Elizabeth chuckled as she tossed her high heels into the closet. She'd be annoyed with herself later if she tripped on them, but right now she just couldn't care about putting them away correctly. She longed for her professor days when jeans, a blouse, and work boots were perfectly acceptable attire.

"Think we could just stay here and sleep for about five days?" she asked her husband.

Henry smiled. "Sure. Nobody would miss us," he deadpanned.

"The kids probably wouldn't starve…" Elizabeth supposed.

"My students wouldn't mind missing a couple classes," he added, "Especially since they have an exam this week."

"Yeah, the world can just wait," she confidently declared.

Henry chuckled. "If only."

She sighed again. "Well, I'm at least going to go use up all the hot water with a shower. The world can wait for THAT."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. Hopefully it could melt away some of her stress.

Elizabeth hesitated near the doorway, biting her lip. "Do you want to join me?"

Henry looked up, closing his book. There was a shy smile on his wife's face as she waited for his response and he fell a little bit more in love with her. They hadn't been intimate since before she left for Iran. It was completely understandable, given everything that she'd been dealing with, but her willingness to change that - now, after such a thoroughly trying day - had caught him by surprise.

"I'll never turn down that offer, babe."

Elizabeth's smile grew. "Well that's handy to know."

She tried to keep her tone light, but Henry could tell she'd actually been worried. He got up and wrapped his arms around her, bringing his lips to meet hers. "You never have to doubt it." She nodded slightly. "Are you sure you're okay for this?" He certainly didn't want to rush her.

"No - I don't know," she truthfully admitted. "But I want to be. I don't want… what's in my head to come between us anymore." She'd felt so incapable of connecting with anyone - no one could understand what she'd gone through. Now that isolation was just making her feel worse.

Henry kissed her again. "Nothing comes between us. If all you ever wanted again was to sleep in my arms, that'd be fine with me." As long as you were here, alive, with me, he thought. A life without her was the only thing he couldn't figure out how to cope with.

But Elizabeth shook her head. "That's not what I want," she proclaimed. "Or rather, that's not all I want." Her nimble fingers worked open the first button on his shirt, then she leaned forward and kissed the skin that she'd exposed. She moved on to the next button and repeated the process, then the next. After pulling his shirt tails out of his pants and undoing the last fastener, she helped him slip off the garment.

Henry felt his blood starting to pool centrally. The nearness of her, the thought of being with her once more after so much fear that he'd never get the chance again… it was intoxicating. "I've missed you," he murmured. Immediately the admission made him feel guilty. The last thing he ever wanted was for his wife to feel like he blamed her for being traumatized. "I'm sorry, that… that wasn't - "

Elizabeth gently ran her fingers along his jaw as she pressed her lips to his to shut him up. "It's okay," she whispered. "I've missed me, too." Today had felt like her most normal day since the attempted coup. She obviously wasn't totally fine yet, but was committed to continue working on it. She had too much to lose if she didn't.

After stealing one more kiss, Henry turned her around and swept her hair aside so he could undo the zipper on her dress. As the white fabric slipped down over her shoulders and fluttered to the floor, the wound on her back came into view. The blight on her smooth skin made him pause; it still surprised him every time he saw it, even though it looked a lot better now than the first time.

On the night Elizabeth had returned from Iran, she'd been in too much pain by bedtime to pull her sweater off over her head. Henry had begun to realize that something was going on with her; he'd watched her just pick at the delicious dinner Allison had made and heard the abnormally short answers she'd given to every question she was asked. But it wasn't until Elizabeth had admitted she needed his help getting undressed that he'd realized she was actually hurt.

Underneath a large gauze bandage, a long line of stitches had held together a ragged gash. It had been red, slightly inflamed, and terribly painful-looking with dark bruises forming all around the sides. The sight had confirmed his worst fears from the previous couple of days: Elizabeth really had been at the boundary between death and survival. Henry had heard that DIS agents were killed to protect her, but he'd told himself that they'd died keeping the danger away from her. Her wound had been proof that the danger had in fact been way too close. His wife had been hurt and alone on the other side of the world as chaos reigned. The thought had simultaneously filled him with sorrow, fear, anger, and pity.

In the present, Elizabeth noticed that Henry had become lost in his thoughts and then she realized why. "Sorry," she murmured, turning her left side away from him. "I'll get the stitches out this week, but I'm not sure if it's ever going to completely go away." She vaguely remembered the doctor at Landstuhl mentioning something about having a wicked scar.

Henry shook his head. "It's okay."

"I can't see it," Elizabeth pointed out, a truth she was thankful for, "But I'm sorry that you'll always have the reminder." She'd give anything not to cause her husband any more grief than she already had.

Henry tenderly ran a finger along the healing-but-still-there wound. It wasn't like she'd asked to end up injured, to have an indelible mark on her body from that horrible day. She had been trying to stop the violence before she got caught up in the middle of it. As much as they both wished otherwise, the attack had happened and would always be part of her now. It was up to them to decide how to view it.

Henry crouched and lovingly pressed his lips to her skin just beside the wound. He could feel his wife tremble at the gentle touch, and he held her close against his chest as he stood. "It'll remind me that you're stronger than I thought was possible," he whispered in her ear.

~ % ~

When the rain comes, you blame it on the things that you have done
When the storm fades, you know the rain must fall on everyone
So rest your eyes, it'll be alright
No one loves you like I do

~ % ~

The hot water coming from the master bathroom showerhead quickly fogged up the mirrors. After checking on the temperature, Henry took a moment to admire his wife in all her naked glory as she joined him in the bathroom.

"I think you should wear this outfit more often," he teased, his voice low.

Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, only if we want to traumatize our children."

"Eh. We changed their poopy diapers and wiped their snotty little noses; they owe us."

She chuckled while reaching for the button on his khakis. "Hurry up, I'm freezing." She'd already started to shiver from being exposed.

Henry moved out of her way as he started to undo his pants. "Get in," he told her, gesturing towards the hot shower.

Elizabeth didn't have to be told twice; she stood under the spray with her eyes closed as the water cascaded down over her body, warming her and loosening tense muscles. Henry quickly joined her once he'd kicked his pants and boxers aside. He was thankful for the generous size of their shower; it had been a tight squeeze at the house in Virginia to fit two people in at once. Not that that had ever stopped them.

Elizabeth turned to face him, her blue eyes dark with lust and her face flushed from the steam. She crooked one finger to beckon him closer and kissed him fiercely, claiming him as hers while the water rained down over both of them. "I love you, Henry McCord," she whispered as they rested their foreheads together.

He smiled. "I love you, too, Elizabeth McCord."

Henry retrieved her bath puff and favorite shower gel. After building up a lather, he gently rubbed suds over her shoulders and arms. Elizabeth was like putty in his hands; she turned and leaned back into his embrace, her eyes closed in bliss as she enjoyed the feel of the water, the scent of black raspberries and vanilla, and his ministrations.

"Mmm, thank you," she murmured.

Henry rubbed the puff down lower over her abdomen and sides. He had learned every millimeter of her body over the past twenty-five-plus years. He knew what spots were ticklish and how to turn her on in a second. He'd seen her in elegant formal gowns and in a Marines t-shirt and sweats. He'd massaged sore muscles from working on the farm and felt their children kick and somersault within her belly. He knew his wife inside and out, which was part of why her recent unpredictability had been so troubling. He'd felt so distant from her. It seemed like while Elizabeth was struggling to acknowledge her PTSD, she couldn't stand feeling exposed to anyone - mentally or physically. Even him. Maybe especially him. It had been one of the most difficult things they'd ever gone through together, but at least now Henry felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. He'd do anything to help set things right.

Elizabeth let out a strangled moan when her husband's fingers danced lower on her abdomen and then brushed over her center. She gripped his forearm with one hand and his hip with the other for balance.

"You okay?" he whispered, needing to make sure this was still what she wanted.

She nodded, eyes still closed. "Don't stop."

Henry chuckled lightly, the vibration running through both of them. He cupped her breast with his free hand, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Elizabeth writhed against him, arching into his touch.

"Oh, Henry…"

He didn't let up, dipping a fingertip into her while his thumb continued playing with her clit. She somehow found her wits enough to reach between them, wrapping her fingers around his hardened length, but Henry shook his head.

"No, baby, this is for you."

He added another finger inside her, making her whimper as they twisted around. She was panting unevenly, starting to come apart at the seams. Her grip on his arm tightened, trying to drive his fingers deeper, to get his touch where she needed it most.

"You are so beautiful," Henry whispered in her ear. No dress or makeup or jewelry could make her more appealing to him than she was right now. This was the proof that he still knew her - that despite everything, his Elizabeth was still in there, still irrevocably connected to him.

"Please," she hoarsely begged. "Henry, please…" She was so close, she couldn't stand it.

He turned her head to capture her lips with his own, then without any further preamble or warning, plunged his fingers deep into her, rubbing just the right spot. Their kiss absorbed her cry as she went flying over the edge, overwhelmed by her sudden release. Henry held her close as she came down from the high, feeling Elizabeth go near boneless in his arms as they shared languid kisses.

She came back to herself a bit when she realized that he was reaching to turn off the water. "What are you doing?"

With the shower stopped, Henry opened the glass door and moved to get her a towel. "You're exhausted, babe. You need sleep."

"I need you," Elizabeth countered, even as she let him wrap her up and start drying off.

"I'm not going anywhere," he pointed out with a little grin as he grabbed a second towel for himself. "I'll still be here in the morning once you get some rest."

Elizabeth draped her arms over his shoulders and stood on her toes to kiss him hard and deep. "I can't wait," she softly protested, "And it doesn't feel like you can, either." He was still rock hard against her belly. "Come on, baby; we need this," she whispered.

Henry's gaze met hers for a long moment, searching her expression. And then he let go of his towel and lifted his slight wife up by the waist. Elizabeth's legs immediately circled his hips, her arms still around his neck. Their lips passionately met, tongues dueling, as he carried her out to their bed.

Henry sat on the edge of the mattress, letting Elizabeth shift up to her knees, straddling his lap. He wasn't sure if she could handle him lying on top of her and didn't want to find out the hard way that the answer was 'no.' Tonight was a night for comfort, not for testing boundaries.

Elizabeth broke their kiss, pulling back slightly to watch his eyes as she took him within her, slowly sinking down along his length. "Oh, God," she whimpered when he was finally buried to the hilt.

Henry gasped as her muscles clenched slightly. "God, baby, you are so tight…" His hands gripped her hips, firmly holding her in place as they both adjusted to the sensations. He was already on the edge after denying himself so long in order to focus on her pleasure.

After a few moments, she rose up, then sank down on him again, starting a steady but unhurried rhythm. "I'm close, babe," he murmured almost apologetically in her ear. One of his hands found its way to where they were joined, and Elizabeth jerked as his thumb pressed against her clit.

Henry couldn't hold back any longer. He came hard, groaning out her name, though the sound muffled by her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Elizabeth stilled, her own release close but just barely out of reach. She could feel Henry's fingers on her, still teasing her sensitive flesh despite the fact that he was lost in ecstasy. He suddenly pinched her clit and she was also gone, panting into his shoulder as her muscles rhythmically milked the last of his essence from him.

As they started to calm down, Henry laid back against the mattress, pulling his wife with him. They cuddled up together, enjoying the tail end of their mutual highs. "Thank you," Elizabeth whispered at one point.

Henry gave her a gentle kiss. "You never have to thank me for showing you how much I love you."

She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Now I'm good with the sleeping in your arms part," she tiredly proclaimed.

He smiled. "Me, too."

~ % ~

I can't stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain, but I will hold you
I can't stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain, but I will hold you 'til it goes away

~ % ~

Henry awoke too early in the morning. There was no light coming from behind the curtains yet, but his heart was racing from a nightmare. His lungs struggled to pull in enough air to get past the feeling that he was suffocating.

Elizabeth hadn't survived Iran in his dream. Henry had somehow gotten to the Middle Eastern nation too late to help her, but in time to stand over her mangled, bloody body amid the rubble. A child had been screaming, and maybe he had, too. He'd been forced away from his wife by Iranian soldiers. Fighting them did no good; he was powerless to stop them from abandoning her like she was garbage instead of the most important thing in his life.

In the real world, Henry felt a spike of panic upon realizing that Elizabeth wasn't in his arms like she'd been when he fell asleep. He was afraid for a moment that it hadn't actually been a nightmare, but then he heard soft sniffles coming from across the room. There was a blonde figure wrapped in a blanket sitting on the window seat.

"Honey?" he asked as he got out of bed. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Elizabeth mutely shook her head, but obviously it wasn't nothing. Henry grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser, pulled them on, and went over to join her. The sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks tore him up inside.

"What happened, babe?" Henry whispered as he sat with her on the edge of the seat. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd had a bad dream tonight. Elizabeth had barely been sleeping since her return, either too busy or too afraid of the images her subconscious would conjure up.

"I-I tried to wake you," she murmured, and he paled. Henry hadn't been aware that his nightmare was obvious in the real world.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you," he started, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"You wouldn't wake up. And I heard you… calling for me, saying I… I couldn't be gone. Henry, I had no idea…" She dissolved into tears again.

He lifted her up so she was sitting on his lap, grateful that she didn't shy away as he held her close. "It's okay, honey."

"It's not!" she vehemently protested. "A-are the kids having nightmares, too?"

Henry sighed. Sometimes, telling the truth was overrated. "Maybe one or two." It was just a little white lie. He'd talked with all three of their children about their fears in the past couple of weeks. Stevie and Jason were coping surprisingly well; their sensitive middle child had been the worst off. Hopefully the memories and emotions would fade in time, particularly as things went back to normal around the house.

Elizabeth buried her face against Henry's shoulder, unable to look him in the eye any longer. "I'm so sorry," she told him. "I'm sorry for what I put all of you through."

He held her tight as she cried, running his fingers through her hair. Henry didn't need to say anything yet, just make sure she knew she wasn't alone. Rain dripped down the window panes as a light spring shower ran it's course. The sound of the steady raindrops was comforting to both of them; everything would be clean in the morning.

"I'm not upset with you," he softly admitted once his wife had started to calm down.

"You were," she countered.

Henry sighed. "Yeah, I was at first, before you went. And while you were gone." White lies and bullshit were two different things; she was well aware that he had not been in favor of that trip. "But… you survived, babe. You came back to us." That made them luckier than some. "And you saved this country from a far more hellish scenario than what you and I are currently fighting through." He'd tried hard not to think about the details of what a war with Iran would have brought down upon them.

Silence reigned for a long moment. "Tell me about your dream," Elizabeth finally requested, her voice soft.

Henry considered that request for approximately half a second. This wasn't the first time that he'd dreamt of losing her, just the most graphic. On other nights, he'd had nightmares about finding out the news she was gone or holding their grieving children at her funeral. But none of this was something his wife needed to know.

"It won't help anything," he told her.

Elizabeth craned her neck to look at him. "You're the one always pushing me to keep talking about what I'm thinking, feeling." Her tone and expression were accusing; she wouldn't abide by a double standard.

Henry nodded in agreement. "That's true. But I know I'm not going to get any resolution for myself by making you feel even worse." Her face was still wet with tears; he couldn't compound her guilt and grief. "I'll never not be afraid of losing you," he whispered after dropping a kiss on her temple, "But eventually I think it'll be… less raw."

Elizabeth solemnly held his gaze. "Do you want me to quit?" she wondered.

"Honey - "

"I'll do it," she offered. "If that's what you want." The idea that she was actively hurting him and their children weighed on her like an elephant on her chest. She was supposed to be making the world better for them, not worse.

For a moment, he thought of returning to the farm, returning to UVA, and living out quiet lives in the country. They could have dinner together every night, take walks in the woods, and never have to worry about phone calls from the White House at 2:30AM. But Henry knew he couldn't make that request. "No, that's the last thing I want. I already did that to you once," he quietly pointed out.

"I made the decision to leave the CIA," Elizabeth protested.

"Not entirely on your own. I shouldn't have given you an ultimatum." He'd spent a decade regretting how that conversation had gone. Threats weren't how they dealt with each other. "You felt like you still had unfinished business after you left; that's why we're here now. So if you want to walk away, it has to be for you… And I know you don't walk away from things you haven't finished."

She sighed, knowing he was right. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm so incredibly proud of who you are, even if it means we make some sacrifices. We're going to be okay, babe."

"Do you promise?" she earnestly wondered.

Henry nodded. "We're going to keep talking, keep healing, keep loving each other." His lips gently met hers. "We're going to make it through this."

Elizabeth relaxed in his embrace, her gaze turning toward the raindrop-covered window. "When you say it, I can believe it."

~ % ~

When the rain comes,
I will hold you

~ % ~

Song Credit: 'When the Rain Comes' by Third Day