A/N: Forgive me, for I know this chapter title sounds like the title of one of those romance novels with shirtless men. But I'm on cloud 9 tonight because I am finished with finals, and also because, wow, I really love writing this story. I also really, really love reading your questions and reviews. They absolutely, 100% make my days better whenever I see them in my email. And keep asking questions...I love finding ways to answer them!
I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and it's a little NSFW...so...take that and do with it what you will. :-)
March 29, 1988 | Henry
She'd been asleep for hours, but he couldn't stop thinking about what all had happened. He couldn't even move to go pace outside because she was laying in his arms so peacefully, and he wouldn't dare move her for the world. She had been so exhausted that she even called him her angel, after all.
"It's taking a life, Henry." She whispered, "How can you justify that?"
Those two sentences that slipped from her lips so pointedly had been replaying over and over in his head.
Joining the Marine ROTC was something he did straight out of high school just to piss his dad off at first. When he finished freshmen year, he looked back and realized he'd made good friends from that experience, though, and was starting to really enjoy it last semester. The scholarship he receives for being in the Marine ROTC didn't hurt, either.
Of course, the ROTC didn't see real action. They learned about the history of the Marine Corps, all the customs and courtesies that go along with it. He'd never been in better physical shape in his life, of course, because they do weight training morning as well as other physical fitness training. Last semester was when they began the infantry tactics, learning all the weapons systems and command and control systems. This semester, though, they started field exercises that simulate real-world scenarios, learning how to participate in an op whenever needed. It wasn't until the ROTC asked him to learn to fly F-18s this summer that he really began thinking about the impact the Marines would have on him.
"It's taking a life, Henry."
He kept trying to tell himself that he was right in his answer to her, that to save thousands of lives sometimes you have to harm the innocent. He wanted to feel justified in his answer because he had been telling himself that it would be a great experience to learn how those F-18s work, that he would have a great position in the Marines after graduating by already having some experience and knowledge with that particular aircraft. He knew in his head that war was inevitable, but now that he was thinking of having to drop bombs on people in a few years, he knew that it was more difficult than he was letting himself believe.
He's pulled from his thoughts whenever he feels her start to stir in his arms, and she's rolling over with her eyes opening and finding his, "Henry?" She mumbles, clearly confused as to where she is, "Why—what did we—"
"We just slept." Henry whispers, kissing her forehead, "It's still early. Go back to sleep."
She closes her eyes as though she were going to listen to him, but then they pop back open and she frowns, "Why aren't you asleep?"
He sighs, "It's nothing, babe. Just go back to sleep, we'll talk about it when you wake up."
She shuffles around a little before sitting up on the side of her leg, looking down at him with her hair all a mess, "You made me talk last night," she murmurs, "I'm making you talk now. So talk, McCord."
He tries not to, but he can't help letting out a little laugh when he sees her like this. "You really are beautiful even when you're a mess." He states.
She raises her brow and looks for her reflection in the window, then looks back at him. "I don't hear you explaining?"
He sits up and leans back on his hands, extending his legs out in front of him, "The idea of taking lives isn't something I take lightly." He states.
She sighs and shakes her head, "I never should've said anything, Henry. I was just—"
"No," Henry interrupts, "You're right. It's not easy to justify. But…I have to tell myself that this is what has to be done, Elizabeth. And I'm really, really sorry if you can't go along with that. I know that it goes against everything you believe in."
"Doesn't it go against everything you believe in?"
He looks at her and takes a shaky breath, then looks out the window at the sun just starting to peek over the lake, "It tugs against what I believe in, yes." He answers, swallowing hard before taking another deep breath and looking down, "I believe that people deserve the right to live in a world where they don't have to fear for their lives." He explains, "My uncle—my mom's brother, Edwin—he served in World War II in the Army."
Elizabeth shifts a little, and he wonders if she's even fully awake for this story, but he continues on anyway.
"Uncle Edwin was patrolling in this village outside of Normandy one day, and he and some of his fellow patrolmen saw this group of people huddled around. He said that he walked up to the group, and there was a woman sitting on the ground and sobbing—she had just lost everything. He looked me in the eye and said, 'Henry, I'd never cried in uniform out on those cobblestone streets, but that was the day.'" Henry pauses and swallows back the lump in his throat, "He told me that he asked her what was wrong, that he normally wouldn't have gotten involved and that the other patrolmen were telling him to move along, but he said it was just something about her that he couldn't leave alone. She spoke broken English, but she told Edwin she'd left her kids at home to go to the market—and all of them were in that home when she left. Every single one of her kids, Elizabeth—all six." Henry swallows hard and looks down, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his shins, "Uncle Edwin said that was the day he knew they had to win this war—that drastic measures had to be taken. Evil stops at nothing."
Elizabeth is sliding her hand up his leg gently, reaching for his fingers to squeeze them.
"I know that fighting back against the evil ultimately puts some innocent lives in danger, Elizabeth." Henry whispers, looking down at the blankets underneath his legs and trying to avoid the nagging tears in his eyes, "But without someone to fight against it, it takes over. It takes so many more lives…"
She scoots her body up toward their pillows, picking his arm up and leaning into his lap, laying his arm back over her as she wraps her own arms around his legs. "You don't have to explain it anymore." She whispers, "I get it."
He looks down at her and feels that lump come back into his throat, "It's not something that I just…that I want to do."
She nods, "I understand now." She whispers, "It's messy."
He closes his eyes, "Yeah, messy." He whispers, moving his hand so that it was stroking her long, blonde hair over his thigh. "Messy is a good word."
March 29, 1988 | Elizabeth
Feeling like an ass was an understatement. Of course he wasn't just looking at dropping bombs on people for fun, or whatever she'd thought last night. Yesterday felt like a blur in general anyway. The anniversary of her parents' death always makes her feel like that. And having Henry push her into talking was a totally foreign feeling—no one had cared enough to ever even ask what was wrong on the past March 28ths, let alone push until they got to the bottom of it.
She just laid with her head in his lap, listening to him breathe as they sat there in his truck. The windows were cracked, and she could hear the birds start to chirp now that the sun was starting to fill their spaces with light. He finally shifts and she rolls over to face him, smiling sweetly, "I vote we skip class today."
He laughs and raises his brow, "We just gave ourselves curfews and blocked days…now we're skipping class?"
She groans and shuts her eyes, "I just want to stay here with you all day." She admits, "Is that too much to ask?"
He sits up more and scoops his hands under her body, lifting her up gently and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I would love to stay here with you, too, but I have weight training this morning anyway." He coos as they shift around to climb out of the back of his truck. "Dinner tonight?"
"Dinner tonight." She confirms. "Even though it's Tuesday, and technically, this is one of our blocked days."
He laughs as he shuts the back door behind her, "We're never going to stick to that, are we?"
April 8, 1988 | Henry
"Are you sure you don't mind dying Easter eggs?" Henry asks her as he drops another tablet into a glass of water, watching as it dissolves and turns the liquid bright green.
She shrugs, dropping a tablet into a different glass. He watches that one turn purple, "I don't mind. I've…it's been a while since I have." She admits.
They were back in Pittsburgh for the weekend since it was Easter. Originally, Elizabeth was going to her aunt and uncle's house for the holiday, but when Will called her and told her he would be staying at school, she canceled on them and mentioned to Henry that her plans were canceled. He immediately jumped on asking her if she would come home with him again, and she immediately said yes.
"I mean," Henry laughs a little, "Don't tell Mom, but Shane and Erin are both a little old for this."
"I heard that!" Elaine yells from the kitchen.
Elizabeth looks at him with wide eyes and laughs, and Henry just shakes his head as he smiles. "I swear she hears everything." He murmurs, trying to keep his voice low.
"I heard that, too!" Elaine yells, "Elizabeth, will you come help me in the kitchen?"
Elizabeth's eyes widen even more and she freezes, looking over at Henry urgently. "Henry," She hisses, "I—I can't…I can't cook."
He frowns, "Everyone can cook. Besides, she probably—"
"No, Henry, I burn everything I touch." She whispers frantically.
"Is it something I can help with, Mom? Elizabeth, um…" he pauses as he tries to think of a lie he could tell her, "She's still working on the dyes." He says, and she gives him a look. He gives one back to her, though, as if to say, "That's the best I've got."
"I just need Elizabeth, please." She answers.
Elizabeth sighs and stands up, "What do you think she wants?"
"Only one way to find out." He says and grimaces, hoping that Elizabeth wasn't right about her not being able to cook at all. As afraid as she seemed to be, though, he was beginning to think that statement had a bit of truth to it. "If I hear screaming I'll come in."
"Oh, thanks." Elizabeth replies playfully, smacking him on the shoulder as she walks by him.
April 8, 1988 | Elizabeth
She walks into the kitchen nervously, her hands already wringing each other. "Did you need some help, Mrs. McCord?"
"Oh, please," she says, "Call me Elaine."
Elizabeth swallows hard and walks up beside the older woman, "Okay," she answers.
Elaine glances over at her as she kneads the dough on the floured counter, giving her a sweet smile, "I see you and Henry are getting pretty serious." She coos, raising her left brow just like Henry does.
Elizabeth smiles and leans forward on the counter a little, afraid to touch anything, "Um, yeah…" she says sweetly, trying to not let her face blush because her immediate thought was "she knows what we've been doing on the Incline." They were doing little enough to not have any pregnancy scares, but what they were doing also wasn't completely innocent. Her heart pounded inside her chest, somehow reverberating throughout her whole body as she waited for Elaine to answer, but it feels like she's taking forever as she had pulled her attention back to the bread.
"Well," Elaine says quietly, lowering her voice, "I want you to know that I'm quite proud of my boy." She starts, and Elizabeth frowns and opens her mouth to tell her that she'd never hurt him, but Elaine continues before she gets the chance, "And I think he's made a pretty good choice." She explains, "But I also want to tell you what this family is like."
"Henry has told me quite a bit." Elizabeth answers sheepishly.
Elaine smiles, "I'm sure he has." She answers softly, then shakes her head, "No, I'm telling you my side of what this family is like because I know—well, I see a little bit of you in me." Elizabeth wants to shudder at this thought, thinking about how Freud really was onto something with the whole Oedipus Complex. "This family—oh, I love my family, Elizabeth." She continues on, "I would do anything for them in the whole world. All of them. However, people like you and me, they like to run over us sometimes." She says and shrugs, "I let it happen more than I should, maybe, especially with Patrick," she says, shaking her head.
Elizabeth thinks of all the times over spring break that she'd heard Patrick raise his voice at her for no reason, or even the times that Henry has mentioned when things got a little out of hand. "You're not saying Henry would ever…" her voice trails off, unsure of where to stop with that statement. Should she suggest that she knows Elaine isn't treated well by Patrick? Should she even bring any of that up?
"Oh!" Elaine exclaims, "Henry rarely raises his voice. He is still a McCord, but Henry has some kind of calmness about him. I like to think he got that from me." She says proudly, giving Elizabeth a sly little smile. "I'm not saying anything of the sort. I'm saying if you are going to be in this family, a true part of this entire family, that you'll have to stick up for yourself sometimes."
Elizabeth frowns and turns to lean her hip against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm no pushover, Mrs. Elaine." She says, immediately regretting it when it sounded like she was calling Henry's mother a pushover.
"I don't believe you are." Elaine answers, raising her brows, "No, I believe that, from what I've observed and from the little bit Henry has told me, that you would do anything to keep this family happy. Is that right?"
Elizabeth thinks for a moment, swallowing hard and looking down at the counter where Elaine was still kneading the dough. She wonders briefly how tired her hands were, or if she had been doing this for so many years that it didn't even bother her, "Well," Elizabeth starts and clears her throat, "Maybe you're a little right, yes." She answers, "I'm sure Henry has probably told you that I lost my parents when I was pretty young."
She nods, "He has." She says knowingly, "And that's why I'm having this conversation with you. I like you, Elizabeth, and I don't want to see this family take advantage of you wanting to be apart of them." She states, "They'll tear you apart if you let them, and they don't even mean anything by it. They're critical people, but they—we all love each other. We really do." She says, "Even Henry loves Maureen, and vice versa." She teases, giving a little grin to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiles at Elaine and laughs quietly, "I'll keep that in mind." She answers, truly meaning it, too. But she also knew that Elaine was right—she'd take almost anything from this family if it meant being apart of it. She hated admitting that to herself, hated the idea of letting someone take advantage of her weaknesses, but she couldn't help it. She loved the loud here. She never wanted to give that up.
"That's all I wanted." Elaine admits, shrugging her shoulders, "Since you've always avoided the kitchen like the plague, I'm guessing you can't cook."
Elizabeth snorts and makes a face, "That's a total understatement," she declares, "I could burn that bread just by touching it, I think."
Elaine laughs, "Tell Henry that I needed your help kneading the bread—that my arthritis was acting up." She says, stopping her kneading and suddenly taking Elizabeth's hands in her floury ones, wiping a bunch of flour and dough on them.
She looks down at her hands and smirks, "I know exactly what to do with this," she says mischievously, rushing into the dining room and coming up behind Henry quickly and stealthily, grabbing his cheeks from behind so that the flour would get all over his face.
"What—" Henry starts to exclaim, then laughs when he looks down and sees a residue of flour falling to his black Guns N Roses tee. "Elizabeth!"
He turns around to look at her and she's smirking, waving her fingers in the air with the remainder of dough and flour left on them. "Whatcha gonna do about it?" She teases.
Henry quickly gets up from his chair, almost spilling one of the glasses of dye and water, coming over and tackling her playfully. He wraps his arms around her so that she can't move her hands toward him, and he takes one of her hands as she's laughing and joking with him to stop, bringing it up to her face and smearing her palm across her forehead and nose. "That's what I'm gonna do about it, Miss Adams." He replies playfully, still holding her in his arms.
She relaxes and smiles, looking up at him, "I love you." She whispers.
Right before Henry leans down to kiss her, she sees Elaine peek around the corner from the kitchen, but Henry blocks Elizabeth's view of her whenever he places his lips on hers. "I love you too." He whispers back, tapping her on the tip of her nose. "You've got a little something there…"
She smirks and quickly brings her arm up, tapping him on the end of the nose with her floury finger, "You too."
After they'd both cleaned themselves off and washed Elizabeth's hands so that she couldn't do any more trickery, everyone gathered at the table once Elaine announced the bread was in the oven and the eggs were ready to be dyed. The activity was going well up until Erin placed an egg back in the carton after dying it, accidentally flipping the carton over and making the eggs fall on the table and crack.
"Erin!" Shane snaps, "What the he—" He stops himself and glances at Elaine, "What was that for?!"
"It wasn't on purpose, Shane, get over yourself." She retorts, picking up the cracked eggs with her bare hands and getting dye all over them.
"Now look at what you're doing," Maureen jumps in, "Erin, pick it up with a napkin for goodness sake."
Elaine sighs and looks over at Elizabeth, giving her a little grin but otherwise staying quiet. "There's no napkin over here!" Erin says, holding an egg in the palm of each of her hands. "Since you're so smart why don't you—"
"Alright, alright," Patrick finally steps in, "Stop talking to your sister like that," he says, turning the channel from the table. Egg dying wasn't his thing, but it was clear that he had been made to sit at the table with them, probably by Elaine. Elizabeth admired her quiet strength, but also she wondered how she got her husband to do much of anything. The thought quickly crosses her mind that, well, they have four kids—maybe that's how she gets him to do anything. She wants to shiver, but she also doesn't want to have to explain herself, so she pushes that thought out of her mind so quick.
"Thank you!" Erin says pointedly, starting to walk to the kitchen to throw the eggs away.
"I was talking to you, Erin." Patrick corrects, "Just listen to what Maureen says."
"Maureen?!" Erin asks in disbelief, stopping in her tracks, "She—"
Elizabeth looks up from one of the eggs she was drawing on, watching for Maureen's expression. She was just sitting in her chair smirking as she dipped an egg into the glass. Elizabeth turns to see Henry's expression beside her since he was so quiet, and he was just looking quite embarrassed. Elizabeth sets her egg in the blue dye and lays her hand on his thigh, leaning close to his ear, "I love you." She whispers.
He looks up at her and smiles, not saying anything as the bickering continues on in their surroundings.
Elizabeth clears her throat and looks up at the clock, then over at Elaine, "Mrs. Elaine?" She coos, "Henry and I were thinking of going out to dinner tonight. Would that be okay?" She asks.
Elaine tells her that of course that would be okay, and that the night before Easter she doesn't do a big meal anyway since Sunday lunch is the real deal for the weekend. She goes ahead and excuses them from this lovely family bonding experience, and Elizabeth practically jumps out of her chair and takes Henry's arm with her, hoping that he would follow her quickly—otherwise she might rip his arm off. "Thank you!" Elizabeth says as she's dragging Henry to the door, grabbing her coat from the rack.
Henry is laughing at her as they step outside, "We didn't have dinner plans," he says and raises his brows as he puts his coat on, looking over at her in the glow of his porch light.
"Well, I'm starving, and I wasn't sure I could listen to any more of that without laughing." She says and bites her lip, "I don't know why, but sometimes their bickering is so funny."
He laughs and shakes his head, "I don't know why, either. Most of the time for me it's just an embarrassment." He admits.
She shakes her head and looks over at him, taking him by his cheeks. She's sure he's probably wondering if Elaine gave her alcohol in the kitchen when she looks so crazily into his eyes, but she just takes a deep breath and smiles at him. "I love you. All of you. Including your family. Your loud, nagging, bickering, arguing family." She says. "I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly."
He raises his brow, "Honestly?"
She laughs, "Okay, well, it would be nice if it weren't every family function, maybe, but you don't know how nice it is to feel like your home is alive, Henry. And I hope you never have to know what I know and feel to appreciate the liveliness in your family." She admits and presses her lips together into a little smile, "Let's go eat."
They drove to this little restaurant somewhere in the heart of Pittsburgh and enjoyed some burgers and fries, and they even shared a milkshake just like on their first date—with Elizabeth dipping the fries into that chocolate ice cream without prompt or hesitation this time. When they got in the truck after their meal, Elizabeth leaned over instantly and pressed her lips heatedly to his, letting her hands hold her weight against his thighs.
As she slowly tears herself away from his lips, he opens his eyes and focuses on her for a moment. She smiles when she sees the way he's breathless, and she loves the way she can do that to him. It's the element of surprise that gets him, but for her, she's breathless because of the way his tongue slides across her lower lip and manages to make her feel this burning in her stomach every single time.
"What was that for?" He looks bewildered as he's leaning back against the corner where his seat and door meet.
She starts to speak, but she stops herself and takes a harsh breath, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window and seeing how messy her hair was just from those few moments. "I—" She sighs and lets her head fall back against the headrest, closing her eyes, "I think it's time." She whispers, almost afraid to let the words come from her lips. This was a big step in their relationship, but one she wasn't sure she could keep from happening any longer.
"Time to…" Henry's words trailed off. She could tell he wasn't wanting to suggest anything, but she could also hear the tone of his voice and the way it was dripping with eagerness just in those two words.
She lets her head fall over, facing him, "Yeah." She whispers in reply, taking a deep breath. "I don't think I can wait any longer."
He smiles and bites his lip, "I've been waiting for those words for weeks now." He admits, starting to move and climb over to her. When he places one hand by her hip and one hand between her thighs, ready for her to move her body to face his, he stops and winces, "But…no." He says and swallows thick, sitting back on his butt and running his hand through his hair.
From the way he groans, she can tell he's frustrated. "Why no?" She asks.
He sighs, "I just…not here. You deserve…you deserve something special. Somewhere special." He says.
She smiles sweetly at him, "Drive me to the Incline." She coos, reaching over and taking his hand, "Where is better than the back of your truck where we spent our first night together, in the place where we first said that we loved each other?" She asks.
He squeezes her hand and leans over, kissing her on the lips for a few moments before putting the truck in drive. Thankfully it wasn't a long drive, otherwise Elizabeth might've had him pull over somewhere. Clearly, there was no going back for her now—nothing could keep her from him.
When they get to the Incline, they pull into the grassy area, and he was mentioning something about how lucky they are that no one is ever here at night. She wonders to herself briefly why people aren't here at night and if they know the beautiful view they're missing out on, but she stops thinking about that as she climbs into the back floorboard of his truck. She glances at the windows and bites her lip, "They're tinted, right?" She asks, feeling her face redden at the thought of someone catching them.
He laughs quietly, pulling at the hem of her shirt. "They're tinted." He assures, and she's unable to answer because his lips are already on hers. She's messing with his belt, wondering why he's even wearing a belt in the first place—wondering if she could talk him into never wearing one again since she was struggling to get it undone. He reaches down and places his fingers over hers calmly, pulling away from her with a smile. "You're in a hurry." He notices.
She snorts and tilts her head, "You'll understand why in a few seconds." She admits, feeling the burn that was solely in her stomach spread below her waist, and somehow spreading all the way down to her toes. Maybe everything inside her was on fire, actually.
Henry gets his belt undone and slips out of his clothing, and Elizabeth takes the liberty of slipping his tee over his head with a smile. "You're so handsome." She whispers, letting her hand slide gently from his collarbone to his stomach. His abdomen twitches when she gets lower, and she climbs to straddle his lap, wrapping her legs around him as best she could in this small space.
She feels his hands on her ass, and she's hating that she didn't go ahead and undress whenever he was doing so, too, but for now this was okay. For now, all she needed was to feel him under her, between her legs, and his hands sliding over every inch of her. For now, she could press her chest into his, feeling the heat from his body even with her bra between them.
However, this must not have been enough for Henry, because he's reaching around and undoing the hooks of her bra, tossing it into the front seat. She giggles and pulls away from him, looking over that way. "What if I need that?"
"You're not going to need it." He says hotly, inches away from her sternum. Peppering kisses down her skin, she lets her back arch into him as he continues further down.
Her face feels like it's sunburnt and her body feels like it's throbbing, so she finally stops him, "Lay me down, Henry," she whispers, "I want you." Her eyes are looking into his while her hands are holding just underneath his jaw, her thumbs playing with his bottom lip. "I need you."
Before she could think any other thoughts, he was laying her down and ridding the rest of her clothes from her body, and the rest felt like a total blur.