A/N: Hey dudes, this is just an emotional exploration written very quickly. I'm very sorry, but I did enjoy writing it. It's a good release.

And I Miss You

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was never going to be this way. There was no 'one' without the other, not now, anyway. It was her fault, after all, how could she not have caused this. She'd have to resign, surely, wouldn't she? How would she possibly cope. The job that had put her in this very position had simultaneously taken everything from her. The job that was supposed to put her at risk. She should've been there. It was greedy to accept the job of Secretary of State. Her family had already sacrificed so much, but she just couldn't let it slide. Knowing the risks, she placed them right in the line of fire. A government official and her family. A target, nothing less.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was the target. If it were to take one of them, it would be her. Deep in an un-accessed area of her brain, she'd decided it - that if all else, her duty would only take her own, and no one else. Duty. Foolish to put him in a position where his sense of duty, like hers, would thrive; but selfish to not. There was no right answer. But she'd decided, she would go first.

The numbness that engulfed her mind played tricks. Is this a test? Her stomach took a turn, diving into the bottomless pitt of dread. The pillow was damp, and was the only thing separating her desperate screams and sobbing from entering the atmosphere. She prayed that it were enough to shield her children from the sounds - the harrowing evidence that this was all real. The room was stale, and the silence rang incessantly. The air was thick and cold - a contradiction of environmental factors, but it was difficult to tell what was environment and what was physiological. She was cold, but her palms were damp with sweat. The pillow still potently carried his scent, as though he'd slept on it only this morning, but she knew it was a temporary reprieve - a fantasy at best.

"Please!" She whimpered into the space, her voice hoarse and weak from crying. Squeezing her eyes shut, the hot stream of tears continued, cooling immediately as it reached the fabric.

Gripping the pillow, she rolled onto her side, squeezing it tight and willing her mind to remember how it felt - how he felt. She was forgetting already. His voice faded and his touch barely there - a quiet whisper in the back of her mind as she repeated it over and over, trying not to lose it.

Young love - her first love that had blossomed into something brilliant. Protected by the shield of knowing, and the passage of time only strengthening fondness, they only aged physically. That was, until something that could not be reversed. Her best friend, her husband and the father of their children. Would the fondness continue to grow in the absolute absence of the other? The kids. She knew what he'd say, if he were allowed a voice in the moment. The answer was yes, but it would take time - something it seemed she had so much of suddenly.

Elizabeth had grown to believe that there was a calculated nature to the loss of life, but now, she was able to see, and vividly, that there was no method. No logic. If there were, it would he her instead of him. She swallowed the bitter irony of herself bringing them to this point. She was a woman so strong, so sure and complete in her identity. And now, she couldn't find that part of herself. For some kind of feeling, a sensation or thought other than total anguish, she pushed a hand between her legs. With a desperate heave of breath and a strangled cry, she rolled onto her back, that was his too. There would be nothing - no one else, and so she couldn't. She hated goodbyes, and the most painful goodbye was the one that was never said or explained. Letting her tired eyes slip shut, she rested for the first time in days.

I love you, and I miss you.