Whenever I Close My Eyes (Madam Secretary)

Rock the Boat

While waiting for the Iranian guard to be free again from whatever he was doing, I paused after finding Marajel, Abdol, and Katan all sleeping on the couch beside each other. It took me a few minutes to hunt down a blanket and carefully drape it over them.

By this time, he was finishing up what he was doing and I decided to take another crack at him to get some kind of information on what was happening--or when I could get ahold of my own family and government. I could only imagine if the news had spread, how worried Henry would be. No matter how much I tried to protect the kids from what went on with my job, it was growing increasingly hard to keep them away from it too, which probably made them even more worried than Henry was. Not to mention my team and the President of the United States, who would undoubtedly be worried as well.

"Excuse me."

"Elizabeth." He walked quickly through the room as I struggled to keep up with him. By this point, my adrenaline was starting the wear off and I was hurting more than I wanted to admit. "I hope you are settling in well while we're figuring things out."

"Yeah, about that. I need to get ahold of my government." I stated blatantly, feeling myself getting a little irritated at the lack of help I was getting at the moment. Right now, I felt like a trapped rat in a cage being hidden away in some kind of lab experiment.

"I'm sorry, but with communications down, there is nothing I can do right now for you."

"Can you at least ask if maybe there's a landline telephone that I can use? I have to get in touch with my government."

"I assure you there is nothing.

"That's not possible," I admitted, panicking a little knowing there had to be some way, other than stonewalling me. I had to get my point across that I needed to get a hold of someone to let them know I was alright. "Your intelligence services have to be communicating with the outside world."

"Not from here."

"Then maybe," I stepped closer to him, feeling myself getting emotional, mostly in frustration at the situation at hand. "If it changes, you get me something like an email or text."

"You're bleeding." He pointed out urgently as I began to walk away. Now he felt like the situation was urgent?

"It's nothing." I looked at my arm which had been burned a little from the blast. At the time, I didn't feel like it was that bad, but what did he mean by bleeding?

"I will get you a medical officer." He mentioned, just as an explosion hit and knocked the power out momentarily. Another twinge of pain had me reaching where the discomfort was coming from, only to see my fingers laced with blood as the lights flickered back on.

He disappeared out of the room to get me help, while I headed into another hall where the bathroom was located. Everything was suddenly hitting me like a ton of bricks as I locked the door behind me. Javani was dead. Marajel was a widow. Abdol and Katan no longer had a father. I had failed to stop the coup. I was stuck in Iran in an underground compound without any way to reach my husband, kids, my team, or the president.

I struggled to take in a deep breath as I leaned against the wall to steady myself. I was doing my best to keep myself calm, but I didn't know how much more of this I could take. I wanted to curl up next to Henry. I wanted to hear my kids laugh. I wanted my staff to annoy the heck out of me with questions and thoughts.

With all that swirling around in my mind, I felt my stomach lurch forward as I emptied to contents of my stomach into the toilet. As I was wiping my mouth with a piece of toilet paper and picking myself up off the floor, I heard growing voices in the hall and then a knock at the door. At first, I figured it was someone needing to use the bathroom as this was probably the only one but then a muffled voice came through the door.

"Secretary Mccord?"

"Yeah. Who's asking?"

"My name is Abilene Harandi. I am the medical officer to President Shiraz. It was mentioned you were injured and may need medical attention."

"Give me a minute." Blowing out a deep breath, I glanced into the mirror momentarily before washing my hands. The dim light made me look ever so pale and worn. I just hoped I didn't look that way and my eyes were playing a trick on me. Deciding I couldn't stay in here forever, I splashed my face with water and dried it with a paper towel.

I took a deep breath before unlocking the door and stood in front of Abilene, a woman probably in her mid-thirties with Persian features, kind blue eyes, and stood just a few inches shorter than me. She silently looked me over and I swore she could tell I had just come from hell and back without saying a word.

"Come. Let's get you checked out." Was all she uttered as we walked to a room at the end of the hall. The room had a few medical posters plastered to the walls; an exam room centered in the middle of the room and some medical equipment placed in carts or drawers near the back wall.

I entered the exam room rather slowly. At home, I was used to toughing out whatever I was ailed with. Here, I didn't feel like I had much of a choice when I had a glaring red spot on the back of my blue dress shirt.

"What is the term you always use in America when you want someone to know you're friendly? I promise I don't bite?" I cracked a smile on that one as I closed the door behind me.

"That's a term I should use a little more often in my job and my life."

"Do you find people running away from you too?" She snapped on some gloves as she patted the exam table gently for me to sit down.

"Mostly my children--sometimes a person or two in my job." I reluctantly pushed myself up on the table, the paper rustling underneath me as I adjusted. It was not the most comfortable to sit on when your lower back is injured. I did have to hand it to her, she was good at keeping the conversation light.

"Ah. So you're a mother."

"To three independent, strong children." She lifted my shirt carefully pressing around the wound.. I flinched slightly at the more tender areas she hit, finally starting to feel the extent of the pain radiating in my lower back.

"How old are they?"

"Thirteen, sixteen, and eighteen."

"So basically you have a house full of teenagers." She teased as she grabbed for the tweezers located in the middle drawer of the medical cart. "I'm afraid you have some glass stuck in the wound that I'm going to have to get out before I can clean and stitch your wound."

"That deep, huh?"

"You have a fairly deep wound, yes. Do you have allergies to any medications?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"Since we don't have your records on hand, what about your vaccinations?"

"Up to date. Kind of a requirement of the job."

"Perfect." She drew up the medicine before flicking out the air bubbles and set the needle back on the tray. "So this is how it's going to go. I'm going to have you lift your shirt while I numb and clean out the glass from your wound. When I'm finished, I'll have you lay down in a more comfortable position so I can stitch you up. I would also like to wrap that arm and treat your burn."

"Sounds good to me."

"How are you feeling otherwise?" She inquired out of the blue as I lifted my shirt so she could get started. I tried to take in a deep breath as I braced myself for her to stick me. Thankfully she didn't have to poke me too many times. "President Shiraz mentioned you were with Zahed Javani when the bomb went off."

"I was." I nodded numbly as I felt my stomach twist in knots at the prospect of talking about what happened. In my heart, I knew she was just doing her job, but Zahed's death wasn't something I couldn't discuss right now. So my next response came out a little flatter than I wanted it to." And I'm fine, thank you."