AN: SURPRISE! One last chapter for this story. You asked so you shall receive. Be grateful because I wasn't planning on writing the ending to be as 'happy' as I did. Like all my other stories I like to bring E and others to a point where they are ready to heal not where they have actually healed. (keep that in mind). This should have been posted a while ago but chem and bio are kicking my butt. So I'm sitting here at 12:08 am putting the final touches on this (long) epilogue. The next month (with the third round of midterms and then finals coming up) will be very busy for me. But I have a lot of one shots and multi chaps in mind and of course I didn't forget about 'here for you'… (I'm very sorry about that) You should be seeing more of me in December. I have a whole month off! Please Please Please tell me what you think of this chap. Your reviews just make my whole day :) I encourage you all to keep writing and as always happy reading!

Fighter

Epilogue

"Healing is not an overnight process. It takes time. Sometimes you'll feel like you're finally over something and happy again, and the wound will reopen. Don't give up, don't get discouraged. Take each day one step at a time. Just try to be in a better place mentally and emotionally than you were yesterday."

~MS~

It'd been raining in Washington for the past three days. The usually beautiful blue sky was painted a gravel grey. It seemed when this type of weather rolled in every single person in Washington forgot how to go about their normal day to day lives. She never understood why people hated the over casted cloudy grey skies which was also accompanied by a slight breeze that always seemed to ruffle her hair.

She had to listen to the repeated complaints from Matt about his soggy shoes. She couldn't recall how he had seemed to misplace the single umbrella he owned. Daisy whined about her stack of papers that was ruined by her dash from the taxi to the doors of The State Department. The black lines of ink seeped into the next, creating black smears down all the pages. She found herself rolling her eyes at the moans and grumbles from her staff over the fact how the 'unbearable' weather was such a 'huge' inconvenience for their lives.

It never bothered her. Not one bit.

She could still vividly remember the many rainy afternoons throughout the spring season where she spent the majority of the evening outside with Will. She smiled at the memory. God they were so young… so innocent. They'd run up and down the yard for hours. Will always ended up shedding the raincoat their mother forced him to put on. Time after time she told him he would get a cold if he refused to wear the extra layer. He never listened.

Susie Adams always appeared on the front porch attempting to lure the pair in for dinner. They relentlessly begged for five more minutes. When Lizzie heard the crunching sound of her father's car coming up the gravel drive, she would look at Will and squeal, 'Daddy's home!'.

The bright headlights shined compared to the foggy surroundings. They waited patiently for the Mercedes to come to a stop before running to the driver's side of the vehicle. Benjamin Adams swung the door open; a big bright smile graced his face. 'You two are gonna catch colds out in this weather.' He teased. Although it was now only slightly drizzling, the air was still chilly.

'You sound like mom.' Will complained. He never ceased to talk back to their parents no matter the topic. 'Well she's right.' Ben told him as he shut the car door. 'And William I know your mama told you to put that raincoat of yours on.' He said as he ruffled his fingers through the young boy's sopping head of hair.

'And how's my little Lizzie today?' Ben asked as he picked his daughter up and twirled her around. They both melted into a fit of giggles. 'It's raining daddy.' Lizzie stated happily. Both father and daughter turned their gazes up towards the sky. 'Yes it is baby.' He said before placing a kiss on her forehead. Looking back now she cherished those afternoons. Those rainy days held some of her fondest memories.

Elizabeth turned her gaze towards the window and sighed. God she hated this room. The way it made her feel. She felt like a fish in a fishbowl. Being observed like this… It seemed like they were waiting for her to slip. To say something that she couldn't take back. She wondered if this was how the people she interrogated felt. Although different circumstances, it was the same concept right?

She stared out through the glass watching as the rain swept across the sidewalk. She'd give anything to turn back the clock and be that bright eyed child splashing in the puddles one last time.

"How's your daughter?" It took a moment for the words to register in her mind, but once she realized she was just spoken to her eyes darted back towards the other woman.

"She's doing great. She has her second post op appointment tomorrow morning, and she started back at the White House last Tuesday." Elizabeth answered plainly. Her voice was even, something she was trained to do. Conrad had her practice answering questions over and over until she could do it in her sleep or in a much darker situation that she didn't dare think about. But she could without a doubt beat a polygraph. She was good at her job… well her old job, but so was Kinsey.

Her tone wasn't the issue, it was the twitching of her fingers and the subtle glance down towards her feet that gave her away. "And that bothers you?" Kinsey questioned.

Elizabeth rose her eyebrows as she eyed the woman. She didn't want to answer her questions. Didn't want to play this back and forth game of her trying to coerce her deep and dark feelings out of her. "I can't help but worry that it'll happen again." She muttered.

Dr. Sherman jotted something down quickly before looking up from her notebook. But her patient had this look on her face…. It was hard to put into words. Distant was probably the best adjective. She gazed off to the side, seeming to be staring at some imaginary spot on the wall. "The explosion?" Kinsey asked, needing her to clarify, wanting her to explain further.

Elizabeth's attention snapped back to the present. She nodded.

Kinsey stared at her waiting for her to elaborate, but after more than a few moments of silence she realized no explanation would follow. "And what about you?" She asked, deciding to change the subject.

"What about me?" Elizabeth questioned back rather coldly. She was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn't want to be here. She needed to be at The State Department. She had meetings to be scheduled. Papers to be signed. Phone calls to be made. But she sat here in front of a shrink in the hope that during one of these sessions she would magically be fixed.

"Has your doctor cleared you?" Dr. Sherman probed, knowing full well what the answer was.

"No." Elizabeth said plainly. She crossed her arms over her chest as she let out a huff of air. "She still wants me coming here twice a week." She added.

"I spoke with her. She told me you aren't taking your pills." Kinsey began. She had more to say but Elizabeth had a very strong opinion on the matter that she obviously wanted her to hear.

"I don't need them." She replied harshly, almost hissing the words.

"No, but they'd help." Kinsey observed her, examining every little movement she made. She watched as Elizabeth anxiously fiddled with her wedding rings, spinning the pieces of jewelry round and round her slim finger. "Why does this upset you? The thought of taking medication I mean."

The anger that had been bubbling up throughout her session finally boiled over the ledge of the make-believe pot. The question tipped her over the edge. Why couldn't they understand? None of them. Not Kinsey. Not Conrad. Not even Henry. "Everyone has readjusted. Why can't I?" She nearly screamed. Elizabeth licked her lips before continuing. "It's not fair. This isn't how it should be. I'm the parent I'm supposed to be the one…" She trailed off, turning her head to once again look out the window.

"You've been through a lot Elizabeth. You've seen a lot of trauma. And watching your child almost die is something that'll change you." Dr. Sherman said softly. She saw the subtle look of panic on her patient's face. She saw her breath catch in her throat. It seemed that she had put a crack into the indestructible surface that was Elizabeth. This was good. This was progress. She was beginning to express what she was feeling, the first step in the direction of recovery. "How are you and Henry?" She asked, broaching a new topic.

"Fine." She responded simply. She sighed knowing the answer wouldn't be satisfactory. 'Elaborate' She told herself. "He thinks I'm spending too much time at work." She explained.

"Well are you?" Kinsey questioned, wanting to know her opinion.

"With my job, no." Elizabeth bit her lip, mentally attempting to count the number of hours she'd spent at the office in the past two weeks. "I don't know, maybe." She said truthfully. "It's just it's hard to be home sometimes you know."

"Do you feel as if you're throwing yourself into your work to forget?" Dr. Sherman inquired. She'd spoken to Dr. McCord earlier this week, and he'd told her about his wife's ridiculous amount of overtime. He was worried. He'd called asking for more suggestions on ways to try to help her. And knowing Elizabeth's history the possible reason for working day in and day out was likely due to her need to cover up her personal problems.

"I work because I want to." Elizabeth replied. She knew that wasn't the answer she wanted.

"Henry called me earlier in the week." Kinsey told her. She paused for a moment, deciding if she wanted to say more, but she left the statement as is. She waited for Elizabeth's reaction.

She sighed. "He's a worrier. Always has been."

"I don't think his worrying is unwarranted." Dr. Sherman fought. She disagreed greatly. His concern was justified. She, along with her husband, could see that Elizabeth needed help. That's why she was here in the first place.

"He says this is another Iran… Worse than Iran. He thinks I'm gonna burn myself out." Elizabeth said quietly. She looked down at her lap where her hands rested. She instantly started pulling on her fingers, needing a distraction. It was a habit she had formed… she couldn't remember when.

"Do you agree with him?"

"Look my problem isn't whether I agree or disagree with my husband, my problem is that I can't look at my daughter without nearly having a panic attack." She grumbled. She'd had enough of this dancing around. Elizabeth shook her head as she rose from her spot on the couch. She took the few steps over to the window.

She watched as the rain rolled off the tops of all the cars lined up and down the street. It seemed the storm wasn't letting up. There wasn't a single person in sight. Her staff could overreact all they want, but a few stormy days didn't qualify as an issue… At least not for her. But oh how she wished the rain was the most of her daily problems.

~MS~

"I'm just saying maybe if you would spend as much time on your schoolwork as you do playing those video games you'd have straight A's by now. Maybe even be top of your class." Stevie told her younger brother. She pointed the wooden spoon she'd been using in his direction and rose her eyebrows playfully. She was ultimately trying to get a rise out of him while still arguing against his previous comment.

Jason rolled his eyes. "And what good would that do? I'd just be playing a part in the broken system. And don't even get my started on class rankings!" The teenager yelled from across the kitchen.

"Okay you two that's enough." Henry said, putting a stop to the sibling squabble. "Jason." He called, getting his attention. His son met his gaze after grudgingly prying his eyes away from his phone. "Set the table." Henry commanded.

"Can't Ally?" He complained, motioning to his sister sitting next to him who was also occupied by something on her phone screen.

"I asked you." Henry replied. Jason groaned before rising from his chair, and nearly stomped over to the cabinet. Henry shook his head at the teenager's dramatic reaction. There was no reason to pout over such a simple task.

The next five minutes the four McCords moved around the kitchen eagerly working to finish preparing their dinner. Creamy tomato and spinach pasta, Elizabeth's favorite. The recipe was very specific and sometimes even took a handful of hours to cook, but the outcome was well worth the work.

Over the sizzling of the pot of noodles, and of course the never-ending bickering of his children, he was able to hear the distinct rattle and thump of the front door opening and closing. He breathed out a sigh of relief knowing his wife had finally made it home. He'd been expecting her over an hour ago. Of course he knew she could've been pulled away -it's happened more times than he could count- but without his wife's knowledge he talks to Blake regularly… He knows her schedule, and today she had nothing pressing on her calendar. She should have been home on time. It was rare, but still possible. Then again, she should have been home at a decent hour the majority of days in the past two weeks, yet she never walked through the door before nine.

Henry called his eldest daughter's name and handed off the spoon he'd been using to stir the bubbling sauce and motioned for her to take over the task. He quickly wiped his hands on one of the dishtowels before tossing the cloth down on the countertop and made his way towards the foyer.

He rounded the corner in time to see his wife tossing her handbag to the ground. He was shocked by her appearance. Confused of what had happened before she'd walked through the door. "You're soaking wet." He stated, eyes raking up and down her form.

"I walked around the block." Her reply was monotoned. Her voice was even. Emotionless. Her lips formed a straight line. Not a smile. Not even a frown. He sighed realizing they were gonna play this game for the umpteenth time this week. All he was asking was for her to show just a sliver of what she was feeling.

"And you didn't feel like making use of that umbrella?" Henry asked as he stepped forward and grabbed the unopened umbrella that she grasped tightly in her right hand. His comment was meant to be lighthearted and teasing, but she didn't laugh. Didn't even crack a smile. He dropped the object into the umbrella stand near the door.

He took a step back and eyed her, watching on as she struggled to wrestle off her wet coat. "I was wondering where you got off to. I thought you may have headed back to State." He admitted.

"My session ran long." She murmured as she tossed her trench coat in the direction of the coat rack. The fabric failed to snag on one of the hooks and miserably slipped to the floor.

Henry's eyes followed her as she walked towards their office. "You called Kinsey." It wasn't a question, more of a statement. But he could tell when she wanted an answer, and by the slight hiss in her voice he knew she would demand a response if he failed to willingly give one.

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she found out. He wasn't surprised in the slightest. Elizabeth flung open their office door and threw her briefcase towards her desk-the bag flopped on its side landing with a loud thud- before turning toward him. She placed her hands on her hips, silently telling him he needed to explain. She wasn't backing down.

He stuttered, unable to find his words for a moment. "I was worried about you babe… I still am." He admitted. He reached out to Dr. Sherman because he desperately wanted to help her. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel betrayed.

She rolled her eyes and spun to the left trudging towards the stairs. Her reaction reminded him of Jason. In ways those two were so much alike. "Yeah well thanks for talking to me instead of about me." She said, sarcasm dripping through her words.

Henry huffed. "You don't think I've tried." He rose his voice a bit more than what was probably acceptable considering their three children were in the next room over.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks on the staircase and slowly turned around. She closed her eyes, and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry it's just…" She trailed off motioning around them with her hands. Words were lost on her.

Henry nodded showing that he understood the unspoken words. The unsaid pain. He swallowed deeply, and told her, "Look we're about to eat, it's your favorite, if you wanna…" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder pointing in the direction of the dining room.

She shook her head. "I have this headache. I think I'm just gonna…" She looked up towards the top of the staircase.

This was all too familiar. He couldn't help but compare their current situation to Iran, but this time around it was worse. He didn't know if the reason being was due to the fact that the attack had been in their own backyard or because Stevie had been put into the middle of it all. But at the end of the day he knew he needed to do something before the wedge between them became too far to fix.

~MS~

The coil in his stomach grew tighter as he climbed the stairs. He shouldn't be nervous to speak with her, yet after having dinner with his kids he procrastinated checking on his wife. He didn't know what to expect when he stepped foot into their room. It was a guessing game. She hadn't been the same since the attack on The White House. Of course her emotions were within reason, but it comes to a point when being emotional crosses over to stronger feelings of anxiety and depression. With her already being diagnosed with PTSD he worried. She was struggling. Anyone could see that.

"Elizabeth?" Henry called. His heart skipped a beat realizing their bedroom was empty. His racing heart settled a bit seeing the light peeking out from under the door to their en suite. His footsteps were heavy as he crossed their room. He couldn't decide whether to leave her be or take the chance of angering her by his so-called hovering.

Although the door was cracked open, he lightly knocked. Hearing no response, he pushed the door open, and apprehensively peered his head in before fully stepping into their bathroom.

His heart nearly shattered at the image before him. "Elizabeth." He said trying to get her attention, but she didn't register his words. His wife sat in the bath knees pressed to her chest while her head rested against the ledge of the porcelain tub. She stared upwards at the ceiling. Her eyes were open, but she was someplace else.

Henry swallowed the bile that clawed at the back of his throat. In all their years he'd never once seen her like this. He was legitimately scared.

He set the glass of orange juice along with the plate of toast he'd brought her down on the countertop. The ceramic clattered against the granite. At the moment it was wishful thinking that she'd eat something.

He hesitantly took the few steps towards the bathtub and lowered himself down towards the floor, sitting upon the small step. He studied his wife for a moment before gently placing a hand atop her bare shoulder. Her skin was cool to the touch. He could guess the bathwater had gone cold ages ago. "Baby." He whispered softly, trying not to startle her.

He held his breath waiting… praying for a response. It took a moment, but her eyes flickered to his. After finally comprehending that her husband sat next to her, she swiftly sat up in the tub. Her fast movement caused some water to slosh over the side onto the floor. As she moved Henry had pulled his hand away almost as if he'd been burned. "You okay?" He questioned.

"Fine." She mumbled staring straight ahead. He didn't need to have any sort of spy training to know she was lying through her teeth. Her behavior today was evidence enough.

"Where were you a minute ago?" He asked regarding her spacing out. His question dared her to try to tell him that she was fine one more time. It was her infamous line. He'd heard the phrase at least a hundred times in the last two weeks.

"Nowhere." She replied quickly. "I'm just tired." She declared.

Henry backed off for now. He knew he was pushing her. And she could only take so much before lashing out. He sat silently observing her, noticing how her shaky fingers absentmindedly rubbed at the spot above her eyebrow where a week ago stiches used to be. "How's your head?"

"It hurts." She admitted, letting out a breath of air.

"I can get you some Advil." He eagerly offered, happy that he could help even if in one of the smallest ways. He made a move to stand, but Elizabeth reached her hand out over the ledge of the bathtub and grabbed his wrist.

"It won't help." She muttered, staring downwards into the water. "Kinsey said the pain's in my head… that I'm imagining it." Elizabeth pinched her thumb and pointer finger together and flicked them through the water. The small movement created a snapping sound, and sprayed water forward towards the foot of the tub. "Who does that? Makes themselves more miserable than they already are."

"Someone who's been through a lot." He answered honestly.

Her gaze snapped towards his. "But I haven't." She fought.

"Babe you have." Henry said softly. This was the issue. The heart of the whole problem. It happened last time. She thought of herself as the lucky one. She wasn't the one who had died in Iran. And she wasn't the one rushed into surgery from a life-threatening injury. In her mind she had it better than the others. Better than Fred Cole. Better than Stevie. She felt that since she wasn't as severely wounded then she didn't have the right to complain. She didn't want to accept that she was also hurt.

"I wasn't the one who almost died!" She argued. Her eyes were wild. It's the most emotion he'd see from her in weeks. "I should be fine." She mumbled.

"Don't compare your pain to other's." He wished she could see that she was allowed to be feeling this way. She was entitled to hurt just like everyone else. "It's not fair to yourself." He added.

"I just can't get the picture out of my head." She grumbled, clearly frustrated with herself. She wanted to forget, but the scene of Stevie laying lifeless on the floor of the Oval Office played over and over in her mind. The image was burned into the back of her eyelids. Elizabeth white knuckled the edge of the bathtub. Her grip looked painful. "I still struggle with everything that happened in Iran." She admitted.

Henry moved his hand atop of hers, showing his support. "That's understandable." He commented.

"But this… this is different. This is Stevie." Elizabeth sniffled. She was finally letting him in… letting her walls down. He gently squeezed her hand.

"You're gonna have to accept that you can't protect them from everything. I wish we could, but babe that's life." He told her. It was the truth. A hard pill to swallow as a parent, but still the truth. As a parent you can live in a constant state of fear for your child or reflect on the mistakes, embrace the good, and continue to pray for the best.

"I just worry about her. About them. It feels like if I even take my eyes off them for even a second…" She trailed off, seeming to lose her voice. Silence filled the bathroom for a few seconds before his wife turned to him, tears streaming down her face, and said, "I'm lost Henry."

He looked into his wife's usually blue orbs and was able to see all the pain, all the hurt… all the emotions she'd been hiding from him these past few weeks. It broke his heart seeing her so… broken.

He stood from the spot he'd taken up on the floor and moved across the room. He heard the small intake of air from his wife. He realized his movement towards the door probably caused her to believe he was leaving. But he simply plucked her bathrobe from the hook hanging on the back of the wooden door and walked right back to his wife's side. "Let me help you." He insisted.

She slowly nodded her head.

He motioned for her to stand, and she willingly followed his instructions. She stood up, letting some of the cold water drip from her body before stepping over the ledge of the tub. She shivered as the air came into contact with her damp skin.

He held her robe out for her. She turned, back towards him, and slipped her arms through the sleeves. He brought the material up and over her shoulders. Henry softly rubbed his hands up and down her arms attempting to warm her up as she tightly tied the belt around her middle.

Once finished, she turned in his arms, and gazed upwards, connecting their eyes. She saw so much love there. Her tears welled up again, she knew her eyes must be rimmed red. "I'm sorry for shutting you out." She apologized. "Sometimes it's just easier for me to not talk about it." She told her husband.

He stared down into her glassy eyes and the corners of his lips curved slightly upwards. His hand came up, landing on her cheek. His thumb softly stroked under her eye. "I'll always forgive you." He stated before kissing her forehead. He pulled back from her and took a step towards the door. He held out a hand, waiting for his wife to take it.

She stared at him anxiously, obviously nervous of what he had in mind. "Come with me baby." He said softly. Her eyes flickered down to his outstretched hand before flashing back to his comforting eyes. She grabbed his hand and followed him without any questions asked.

He led her through their room, out the door, and down the hallway. By the time they reached the stairs she could hear the laughter of her three children. Her heart instantly sped up. And that's when Henry stopped, halting at the top of the landing. He turned and stared at her. "Look." He instructed. Elizabeth swallowed as she stepped forward and peered over the banister. Her kids sat around the coffee table playing Scrabble. All three were giggling and teasing one another. Acting as if they were still all young children.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, urging the images of the attack to stay at bay. She was relentlessly trying to not to panic at the sight of her eldest child. Tears pricked her eyes again. The guilt that her own daughter had become one of her triggers ate away at her.

Henry stepped up behind his wife and held her by her shoulders. "Open your eyes." He whispered near her ear. It took her a minute, but eventually she blinked her eyes open. "Look at them." He commanded. "They're fine. More than fine." He said, keeping his voice down. "Stevie is okay, and you will be okay. I need you to be okay." He lovingly squeezed her shoulders, silently telling her that he was here with her. Forever and always.

~MS~

Elizabeth sat on the edge of Henry's half of the bed. Her feet hung off the side, almost touching the ground. He'd disappeared into the bathroom after helping her change into the fluffiest pair of pajama pants she owned and one of his old marine's t-shirt. She'd choose to sleep in one of his shirts over one of her own any day. It comforted her. Made her feel closer to him.

He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, carrying a glass of water. He smiled sadly as he approached their bed. He knew this was gonna be a fight. He kneeled down in front of her and gazed upwards meeting her eyes. He held out the glass; she took hold of the cup without a second thought, raising it to her lips and taking a sip. The cold water slid down and coated her dry throat. That's when he unclenched his left fist revealing a tiny white pill. Her lips left the glass immediately. "No." She argued instantly raising her voice. She knew exactly what that pill was and she had absolutely no interest in partaking.

"Baby please. It will help you feel better." He told her, placing a comforting hand on her knee. He knew she'd resist, but right now she needed the medication.

She shook her head back and forth. "Henry no. I don't want to take it." She sounded like a scared child. He didn't blame her. He'd be absolutely furious if someone else was forcing him to take something he didn't want to. But she needed this. She wasn't in control anymore even if she believed she was. The anxiety and fear had taken over a long time ago.

"It'll help you sleep. You need sleep." He tried to convince her, but she didn't budge. "Trust me. Please Elizabeth for me." He pleaded. Blue eyes connected with brown. He could see the wheels turning round and round in that intelligent brain of hers. And then she nodded and stretched out an open palm. He sent up a quick thank you to god, relieved that she finally agreed, and placed the small capsule into the palm of her hand.

She stared at Henry as she filled her mouth with water, placed the pill into her mouth, and gulped the mouthful down. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Thank you." Henry murmured.

"Lay with me." Elizabeth said already rolling over to her side of the bed.

"Of course baby." Henry flipped the switch on the side lamp, pulled back the covers, and slipped into bed. He immediately slid behind Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her middle. He nuzzled the side of her neck, peppered kisses up and down the side of her face. "Do you need anything else babe?" He whispered.

"Some cold pasta sounds amazing." She mumbled, her voice already a bit hoarse from dozing off. He chuckled quietly. It hardly surprised him that's the first thing that came to her mind.

"Alright sweetheart." He said, but he could already hear her snoring. He continued rubbing comforting circles along her back, and running his fingers through her golden locks, hoping to soothe her into a deeper sleep. He looked down at his sleeping wife with so much appreciation in his eyes. He admired this woman greatly. This incredibly stubborn, but incredibly strong woman. The woman who gifted him with three amazing children. The woman who's been through enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. The woman he loved with his whole heart. God he had so much love for her. He'd do anything for her. Give up anything for her. Go anywhere for her. She'd been through so much. But it'd all be okay because she had him. He wasn't going anywhere. He was gonna help her through this and anything else the world decided to throw at them. As long as they had each other… He stared down at her peaceful form with love in his eyes. In that moment he knew that she would keep fighting.