Author's Note: Welcome to A Long Walk Back Home! I've been working on this thing for absolute ages. It's been so long, in fact, that I doubt the people I initially asked questions to pertaining to this story even remember my asking. This thing was supposed to be a nice long oneshot. Instead it turned into a 12,000 word beast. Yeah. Why am I not surprised? I hope you all enjoy this fun little foray. It's not my usual type of writing, but I think it turned out alright anyway!

A Long Walk Back Home

Chapter One

Breaking News

An explosion at the renewable energy conference in Virginia resulted in a partial building collapse today. Three have been confirmed dead and over a dozen are still missing. President McCord, who was scheduled to speak at the conference, is among the missing presumed to be within the rubble. Rescue efforts are still underway and first responders are hoping to find some of the missing still alive. The FBI are also continuing their investigation into the cause of the disaster but nothing has been determined as of yet.

O . o . O . o . O

Elizabeth remembered an explosion. Then a concussive blast and flash of pain. Now there was nothing, and she really meant nothing. No pain, no sound, no light. She was in an utter void, like a vacuum where everything had been sucked away. It sent a shiver through her. Something was distinctly wrong. Only a moment ago she'd been giving a speech to hundreds of people in Virginia, but she definitely wasn't there anymore. Unfortunately there were no clues to indicate where she was. No matter which direction she turned there was only emptiness.

"Hello?" she called out in hopes that someone might hear her.

The effort brought her absolutely no response. Only darkness and silence greeted her. Did she simply wait and hope there was some indication of where to go in time or did she pick a direction and start walking? Elizabeth hated the thought of waiting around with no plan. It just wasn't in her. The problem was she also knew that moving forward into the unknown with no plan could backfire on her terribly. If she picked the wrong direction she might never know until it was too late. A little voice inside her head whispered that it might already be too late, but she forcibly ignored that. It wasn't a thought that would do her any good to consider.

When she first caught the familiar sound of hooves she thought she was hearing things. It had to be her brain making things up in its desperation. As the noise continued, however, she found she couldn't ignore it. Swiveling around, she strained her eyes into the darkness to try and find the source. The sound wasn't coming from a clear direction though, and she couldn't see a thing. Despite that Elizabeth knew what she was hearing was a horse. She'd been around them long enough to recognize that rhythmic clicking of hooves and soft chuffs of breath. A smile slid across her face as whiskers scratched the side of her neck and warm breath washed over her cheek. She reached up to brush the velvety nose that was nearly resting on her shoulder. The horse nickered at her touch, and Elizabeth's heart nearly melted.

"Buttercup?"

It had to be. She would know her boy anywhere. His head turned and he rubbed hard against her shoulder, nearly knocking her over in the process. Elizabeth laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck before burying her face against his coat. She still had no idea where she was or what was happening, but having Buttercup nearby calmed her.

"Hey, boy."

Buttercup pulled away from her and started dancing circles around her, mane flying with each toss of his head. He stopped right in front of her, snorting and pawing the ground. While Elizabeth didn't speak horse, thanks to all the years they'd been together she did speak Buttercup. She knew just what he wanted.

"You want me to go for a ride."

He snorted again and nudged her toward his back with his nose. Grinning, Elizabeth rested one hand on his withers and the other on his back. It had been a long time since she had last mounted from the ground, and even then it had been with the help of a stirrup. She wasn't sure if she would be able to haul herself up onto his back, and if she did, it certainly wouldn't be elegant in any manner. Without any other options though, she had to give it a try. After three bounces she pushed herself up and threw her leg over his back in one fluid motion with almost unnatural ease. It had been far simpler than it should have been as she'd nearly floated up onto Buttercup's back, but Elizabeth wasn't going to question it. Once she was settled Buttercup started off. She still couldn't see a thing, but Buttercup was navigating like they were back on the trails behind the farm in broad daylight. She'd always trusted him implicitly, and that wouldn't change now.

How long they rode Elizabeth had no idea. Time didn't appear to have much meaning wherever she was. They could have been walking for a few minutes or a few days. It would have felt the same. Eventually Buttercup came to a stop and refused to move forward no matter how much Elizabeth clicked to him and pressed her heels to his sides. Instead he turned his head and nudged at her foot. Understanding what he wanted, as usual, Elizabeth slipped down from his back and stroked his neck. He nuzzled her face and lipped at her hair before dropping his head over her shoulder and touching her back with his muzzle in his version of a hug. Knowing this was goodbye for a second time, Elizabeth twined her fingers into his mane and held on tight.

It took her a long time to convince herself to let go. She didn't want to say goodbye now any more than she had the first time. Saying goodbye would mean being alone once more too, and that wasn't appealing either. Eventually she loosened her grip on his mane and planted a last kiss on the tip of his nose before stepping away.

"I love you, Buttercup. Thank you."

He nickered to her one final time before turning to trot off into the darkness. Elizabeth watched her horse until even his tail disappeared from sight. She barely even had time to register the fact that she was alone in the unknown again when a deep voice called out to her and made her jump.

"What are you doing here, girlie? You don't belong here."

Startled from the gruff greeting, Elizabeth whirled around to face her father in law.

"Patrick."

She moved toward him, finding comfort in his presence despite his typical gruff demeanor. He was the first one she'd seen since she'd found herself in this strange unknown world. Hopefully he would be able to give her some answers, though she feared to discover some of them. The picture she'd been able to put together so far from the few pieces she had wasn't a pretty one. Adding Patrick to that equation didn't change the outcome at all. If anything, it only supported her hypothesis, which wasn't a good thing for once.

"Where… where am I?"

"Oh, I think you're smart enough to figure that one out on your own."

Elizabeth flinched. So she was dead. It was the only thing that made sense considering the setting she was in and who she had met so far, but she hadn't wanted to believe it. Now she couldn't deny the truth. It was an incredibly painful truth too. Her mind refused to consider what that meant for her or her family. Instead the only thought it spit out was that she was the shortest term president in US history. It was a much safer thought. One far less emotionally loaded than the others even though it wasn't pleasant either. She'd really wanted to make her mark as a President, but now she wouldn't have that opportunity.

"The afterlife of some sort," she whispered.

"More the space in between life and the afterlife," Patrick corrected. "Like I told you. You don't belong here."

A spark of hope ignited inside her, though she was careful to keep it well contained. If she didn't belong here, did that mean she wasn't actually dead?

"I don't understand."

"And I don't have the time to explain it. Or more you don't. You've got to keep on walking."

"What do you mean?"

"What, have you gone senile in the years since I've been gone? Keep walking! It's the only way for you to get home, and you need to do that. Don't you dare leave my son, you hear me?"

Incredibly irritated with Patrick's question and the lack of information, Elizabeth glared at him. Would it kill him to actually give her full answers instead of disconnected pieces? It took all of her self-control to answer civilly.

"Yes. I hear you."

"Then get going!"

He was already trying to shoo her away. There was never any arguing with Patrick McCord, so Elizabeth didn't even bother trying. If he said she needed to keep moving in order to get back home, then she was going to listen to him. Left with no other choice but to obey, Elizabeth didn't even have the chance to tell Patrick anything else. No thank you. No goodbye. Not even one of the many comments or questions about his death that she or Henry wanted to know.

She started away in the direction he was pointing and tried not to let the lack of any sensory information unsettle her. Elizabeth had barely gotten more than a few feet away when Patrick called out to her.

"And Elizabeth?"

She paused and glanced back over her shoulder at him.

"Damn proud of what you've achieved. Make me prouder by not forgetting the little people who work hard for everything they have. Most presidents don't care about us normal folk. Be one who doesn't forget."

"I will. I promise."

Elizabeth lifted her hand in farewell and started away once more. Again she only got a few more feet away before Patrick's voice brought her to a stop.

"And look after my boy! He needs you."

Tears filled Elizabeth's eyes and she nodded at her father in law. That was the first time he'd ever made any real comment about her holding an important place in his family, and it meant a lot to her even if it was said simply for her husband's well-being and not her own.

"Always."

This time when she turned away she didn't look back. With a small, contented smile on her face she continued forward into the darkness and hopefully toward home again. As Patrick had said, she couldn't leave Henry. If there was any chance of getting back to him, she would face whatever she had to in order to do so.