A/N: I have put off writing this chapter for so long because I simply hate it so much. The canon engagement storyline is my absolute least favorite piece of canon material and I always go out of my way to avoid it but alas, I have committed to telling this story as close to the original canon as possible so: here it is. The actual engagement will take place in the next chapter and then we will be rid of it forever! In the meantime, I hope I have managed to convey some sort of vaguely in-character behind the scenes for this insane story.

Henry was staring at the engagement ring. Standing at the window in the otherwise empty apartment, he had been staring at it for so long that he'd long-since lost track of the time. His mother's voice echoed in the back of his mind and he couldn't take his eyes off of the little velvet box.

When he'd taken the ring, he had been absolutely sure. Just days ago, when he had sought out Elizabeth's little brother, he'd been absolutely sure. And today, he was…almost sure.

It wasn't Elizabeth he was hesitant about; Elizabeth was perfect, far more perfect than he thought he deserved.

He guessed that was sort of the problem.

He was happy with Elizabeth- desperately happy and deeply in love. There was nothing Henry wanted more than to keep doing this for the rest of his life, waking up next to her and seeing her every day, navigating the big and small things with her by his side. But Henry had also committed his life to something else, a looming presence that had only seemed magnified with the ring in his hand.

He glanced behind him at the bed that they shared, and though it was neatly made now, he could easily picture her there, early that morning before she left the apartment, curled up on her side of the bed and looking so young, suddenly. And they were, he realized; both of them were so young, with so much life ahead of them. What if they were rushing into this? Mostly, what if Elizabeth didn't know what she was getting into? Henry was promised to the Marines- not forever, but for long enough to feel like it some days, any time he thought about it too hard. What if he couldn't give her everything she needed, everything he wanted to give? The death of Elizabeth's parents had taken from her so much of her youth already, and ever since he'd been to see Will, Henry had not been able to stop thinking about whether this would just take more of it away from her. If he asked Elizabeth to marry him, and she said yes, she would be signing up to be not only a wife at the tender age of twenty-two, but a military wife at that. Henry didn't know the extent of what that would look like, but what he did know was that it would be difficult, perhaps more so for her even than for him.

He glanced back at the bed again, and then for the thousandth time back to the ring. It glittered innocently at him, and the image of it on Elizabeth's hand rose to mind, unbidden and entirely unhelpful.

Despite agonizing over it all morning, Henry was not one bit closer to a conclusion. He needed to think, and he couldn't do it here.

Seized by the panic and tortured uncertainty of it, Henry reached for his backpack and started packing clothes into it, haphazard and thoughtless. At the end, he packed his toothpaste and toothbrush, and finished it off with the ring in its little velvet box. Then, he went into the kitchen and found a notepad right next to the phone, where they always kept it.

Elizabeth,

Sorry to take off like this. Just needed some space to think.

Henry

He knew that the tone and brevity of it were unsettling, and Henry felt bad to be so vague, but he truly wasn't sure what else he could say without giving it all away. The truth of it was that he primarily wanted to sit down with Elizabeth and tell her everything; she was the only person who he really wanted to talk to when he felt out of sorts. She had a way of making sense of things that he had come to rely on. But he couldn't talk to Elizabeth about this. He had to figure this out on his own.

He locked up the apartment and got into his old pickup truck, and started driving.

It was unlike him, to be so restless and impulsive. Generally, Henry was calculated and careful, but something about this made him feel wildly untethered. As he drove, he thought of Elizabeth and felt guilty. Then, he thought of the ring and felt vindicated in his choice, reminded of the fact that he had been unable to come up with another solution. It was just the weekend, after all. He would go back, and when he did, he would have a clearer head. He would have an understanding, a certainty, that he couldn't manage at home.

He hoped he would, anyway.

If taking the time to think it through on his own didn't offer the solutions that Henry was looking for, he wasn't sure what would. The ring was in his bag, the permission he'd sought had been granted, and in his heart Henry knew that he wanted to marry Elizabeth. All that there was left to do was ask the question.

But to do that, he had to be certain. And to be certain, Henry knew exactly where he needed to go.

While Henry was heading north on the highway, Elizabeth was getting home from work.

It had been an unremarkable day, and she was looking forward to getting home, making plans for the rest of the evening and the weekend.

What she was not anticipating was to walk into an entirely empty, eerily quiet apartment. Henry had the day off, and she had expected that he would probably be home when she arrived. But the place was silent, and so she headed to the phone, thinking that if Henry had gone out for some reason, he'd have left a note. Seeing it folded up neatly on the phone table, she reached for it.

Elizabeth, she read in Henry's familiar slanting scrawl.

Sorry to take off like this. Just needed some space to think.

Henry

Elizabeth read it over several times, and still could not entirely make sense of it. No mention of where he was going, no I love you, no indication of when he might be back. Henry had left her dozens of notes since they started living together, a byproduct of each of their busy schedules. But he always signed them Love, Henry. Elizabeth could not begin to wrap her mind around any reason why he would have stopped now.

She read it again.

The whole thing set her on edge. It was vastly unlike him to just leave like this, especially without mentioning when he would be back. The note still in her hand, Elizabeth stepped away from the phone, through their small living room, and into the little hall which led to the bedroom and bathroom. Flicking on the bathroom light, she scanned the sink vanity with her eyes and landed on the toothbrush cup.

Her orange toothbrush and Colgate toothpaste were there, but Henry's were not.

The sinking feeling that had washed over her when she read Henry's note settled deeper into her chest like it might be prepared to take up permanent residence there. If Henry had taken his toothbrush, he was not planning to come back tonight. And, having no clue where he might have gone or what he needed to think about, Elizabeth had no way of trying to figure out where he was or contact him.

She blinked hard and sat down at the table with his note in front of her, resolved to a very rough night in a very, very quiet home.