A/N: Hello all! A bit of a sad one coming, but some sweet moments in between.

Also, wanted to get your thoughts: I plan on writing about these two in their early marriage, but should it be its own, new story, or a continuation of "Becoming the McCords?" I like to think "Becoming THE McCords" pertains more to the McCords we all saw on television, so I'm leaning toward just continuing this one to show the lead-up of becoming those McCords. (Does that make sense? Oof...it's past my bedtime.)

I hope you enjoy!

August 3, 1988 | Elizabeth

"This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you, it just means I didn't want to do it myself."

"Do what yourself?"

She looks down at him, batting her eyes dramatically as she tilts her head. Her hands are resting most of her weight on his chest, and she leans further into them and picks herself up off his hips and bends to kiss his lips. "You know I'm not giving you the satisfaction of saying it, but nice try."

His hands are searching down the sides and back of her body again, but she rolls to the side and lays on her side of the bed. Her side. The thought of that was weird at first—it took some getting used to. They'd fallen into it so naturally, though, that he always slept to the right of her while she always slept on his left. It was never questioned until just a few weeks ago when she jokingly realized they'd never even discussed which side of the bed they'd sleep on. It just happened.

While her arms rest above her head, her stomach rises and falls and she stares at the little popcorns on the ceiling, squinting a little as she thinks about the day ahead. Working was, surprisingly, a relief from her home life these days. With Tori and Julia still here, still trying to figure out where to go, she was glad to be away from the house. However, today was Henry's first day off while Elizabeth was scheduled to go into work, and she was already beating herself up over the annoying thoughts she'd let herself give in to.

He's rolling over now and his hand is sliding across her stomach, just under her rib cage. She doesn't have to look down to know she has goosebumps all down her stomach and arms, she can feel them rising as his fingers reach her other side. "I can tell you're thinking about something."

"You're getting good at that." She replies, closing her eyes and ignoring the fact that his touch is making her want him all over again.

She feels him staring a hole through her, but she doesn't open her eyes. Instead, she listens to him let out a huffy chuckle, "Judging by your physiological reaction, I'd say I'm good at this too."

One eye peeks open and she sees where he's staring—straight at her chest—and she swats at his hand and lays her head back down on the pillow harshly. "Oh, stop." She groans.

He laughs quietly and lays down beside her, snuggling his head in the crook of her neck. "What are you thinking about?"

"Do you really have to ask?" She whispers, letting her mouth part just slightly as she looks at the ceiling again, hating that she even let on that she felt any sort of jealousy toward Tori.

She couldn't help but feel like this. Tori swooped in so quickly, and Henry had never even mentioned a serious girlfriend. He says it wasn't serious, and she's trying to believe him, but who the hell feels comfortable enough to ask their not-so-serious ex-boyfriend to crash at his place with a baby? Maybe it was all true and this was all just some sort of fluke. Maybe it was some sort of divine test to prove Elizabeth's baby fear to be silly while Julia was in the house. Maybe, though, it was what broke them.

He's pressing a kiss just under her ear, letting his lips linger there while she feels his breath on her skin, "I've never loved anyone else, Elizabeth. You're my only." He whispers, "In that religion class I've been taking over the summer, I've been studying Thomas Aquinas."

She snorts and opens her eyes, glancing down at his face, "Oh yeah?" She asks, wondering what this was going to have to do with anything. This one religion class he was taking over the summer was just a humanities credit that he needed for his degree, but he seemed more interested in it than he had in the rest of his school career since she'd known him. "What does Thomas Aquinas have to do with us?"

He stays quiet for a moment, and she almost wonders if he's fallen back asleep—sometimes he does that after a nice morning like this one—but then he takes a deep breath, "I was reading about the different types of love that Aquinas acknowledged and believed were important to the Christian thought." He starts, and she furrows her brow while still wondering where this was going. "One of the quotes next to the paragraphs about eros—the romantic kind of love—was something that just stood out to me."

When he pauses, she doesn't expect him to just completely stop talking. She turns on her side a little to face him, her nose only inches away from his own. "And?" She asks quietly, raising one brow in curiosity.

He lets his hand trail around the skin on her back as he looks in her eyes, and she wonders if he's in a trance, if he'll ever speak again. His other hand slides out from under his head and underneath her cheek, resting between her pillow and her skin, "He said, 'Love is a binding force, by which another is joined to me and cherished by myself.'"

She thinks for a moment, letting that settle in. Before she can answer or say anything at all, though, he's talking again. "I grew up being taught that we become one whenever you truly love someone. I don't know if I ever believed it, though—my parents weren't exactly an exemplary couple." Henry explains, looking down now between them at the pillow, "It's not just about an attachment or about feelings—it's about binding together to be one. It's a togetherness that I never really believed in before I met you."

"You're trying to make up for this, Henry, and I—"

He shakes his head and looks at her, almost startling her with how serious his expression was. "No." He says sternly, "I'm not. I should've told you about Tori, even if it wasn't a serious relationship. You told me about your high school boyfriend, I should've told you about her." He says.

Her heart feels like it might pound out of her chest for the way he's speaking to her right now. She flipped from feeling a little angry at him this morning, to feeling this immense amount of lust for him, and then back to some anger and now…whatever this is. Maybe a little righteousness mixed with adoration for this man lying in front of her, telling her how much he loves her.

"I still have some growing up to do. I think we both do, right?" He asks, and she nods, knowing that it's true. "Tori…yeah. She broke my heart. She really did." He admits, and she's back to feeling that anger brew inside her chest before he speaks again, "But I had no idea that it was because there was something so much better out there for me. Something that's true…that's genuine and supportive and nurturing. Things that I never understood growing up because I never really saw it—I always just thought that marriage was something you did. Relationships were something you did. Not something that you couldn't help but do."

"Henry…" she whispers, running her hands through his hair and shaking her head, "You really don't have to keep explaining yourse—"

"I love you, Elizabeth." He whispers, "I've loved you ever since that night at the diner. And I loved you even more when I saw your willing heart take over and let the pain simmer down of finding out I had a girlfriend before you. I loved you more when you said it like this was the only option—that this was obvious to take Tori and Julia in." He explains. Elizabeth notices he's tearing up, something he rarely does whenever he's not upset, "You have such a beautiful heart, babe, and I just feel really lucky you let me in there and let me be part of it."

She was fine until then. She was holding herself together until his last sentence. She had kept her eyes mostly dry, had kept herself from shaking, but now her hands are vibrating against his cheek and his arm as she feels teardrops fall down and collect on her pillowcase. "Henry…" she whispers, unable to really get anything else out at the moment. "I can't imagine letting anyone else in. Ever." She says quietly, blinking to be able to see him properly again, "I love you." She says, "I know you would never have asked me to take them in, but I could see it all over your face. And that's just a piece of what I love about you. You're always willing to help those who need it—you're always wanting to be the bigger person to help someone out. I love you for that." She says, closing the short gap and kissing his lips softly, "I love you so much."

He squeezes her body into his, and their legs feel so tangled up that she really does feel like Aquinas said—she feels as though she's one with him.

August 3, 1988 | Henry

"Good morning," Henry says, walking out to the living room while Elizabeth is in the shower.

Tori looks up from Julia, feeding her a bottle in her arms, "Good morning," she says quietly, "I have good news."

"Oh yeah?" Henry asks, heading into the kitchen.

Tori is still talking while he's getting the eggs from the fridge, then the bacon, "My dad is going to take us in for a while—just while I get back on my feet. He's great with kids, so he's going to babysit Julia while I find a job and get some money for daycare."

Henry walks back out of the kitchen, leaning sideways on the wall and looking at Tori with a smile, "That's great news!" He says, "And you're sure he's all good with this?" He asks, not knowing much about her family at all—she hardly ever mentioned them. He can't recall a time when she ever mentioned her father at all.

"He says he is." She says, but he notices she's a little uneasy about it as she picks Julia up and places her on her shoulder, starting to burp her when the phone starts ringing.

Henry picks it up and laughs quietly after a moment, "It's for you." He says, handing her the phone. Instinctively, he reaches down and takes Julia off her shoulder, throwing a blanket over his neck while patting her on the back to get her to burp.

He walks to the kitchen as Tori talks to her dad on the phone, what he supposes is them making the plans for her to come live with him, and he learns he's not the greatest at multi-tasking. Burping a baby was very difficult to do while cracking an egg, so he instead put the egg back and opted for a bowl of cereal.

Just as he pours the milk over his bowl of Frosted Flakes, he hears footsteps padding into the kitchen. "Is everything okay?" Elizabeth asks quietly.

"What do you mean?" Henry asks, rocking Julia on his shoulder as she attempts to fight off a nap.

"Tori's in there on the phone and you have the baby." She points out, laughing quietly.

"Oh." He says and smiles, grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet for her. He slides it to her and slides over the box of cereal and carton of milk before sitting back down at the table. "Good news, actually. She is going to go live with her dad for a while until she gets back on her feet."

Elizabeth sits down at the table with him and smiles, leaning her elbows on the table and looking at him, "That's really good." She says, her fist balled up in her cheek as she leans on it and watches him.

He feels Julia squirming a bit and picks her up from his shoulder, looking at her, "You're not going to nap, are you?" He asks softly, trying to put her back in his arms to eat his cereal. As he's looking down into his bowl, trying to maneuver eating with a newborn in one arm, he sees a pair of hands slide in their direction. He looks up and raises his brow, "You want to hold her?" He asks.

She shrugs innocently, "You look like you're struggling." She states, and it was true. He didn't know how parents did this thing. He watched Maureen do it many times—hold the baby and eat at the same time—but he obviously had not mastered that yet. When he sees that she hasn't poured herself a bowl yet, he extends his arms and slides the baby into hers.

"You seem to be warming up to her." He prompts, eating his cereal once more.

She shrugs and looks down at the baby, "They're not as scary as I once thought." She admits, "I just hadn't been around them enough to know."

He laughs quietly, "They're really pretty cool." He says, "When Erin was a baby, I was only nine. Well, I'd just turned nine." He explains, chewing up a big mouthful while talking, "I remember having this really grown-up thought when I was holding her one time, thinking that I'd get to watch her grow up. Of course, this was split seconds before I put her in her crib to go play with my trucks, but nonetheless, the thought was there." He admits, "And I have gotten to watch her grow up. It's hard to believe how fast it happens, really. I was younger than she is now whenever she was born, and it's just…it's hard to wrap your mind around, you know?"

When she doesn't reply, he looks up at her and smiles at the scene. She was completely ignoring Henry, her full attention given to Julia. He maybe would've felt a little jealous or a little annoyed by her not listening to him at all, but in this case, he was just happy to see her step out of her comfort zone and into a place she actually might be enjoying now. He thinks back to when she first held Amanda and how scared she was, and it makes him smile. His heart feels a little twinge of pain whenever he thinks of his baby niece and how fast she was probably growing up over the summer since he refused to go home and see anyone, but he couldn't bring himself to swallow that Queen Elizabeth issue yet. He couldn't make himself do it.

"Dad said I could move in today." Tori announces, coming into the kitchen.

Elizabeth looks up and smiles, "That's really great, Tori." She says, "You seem happy."

She nods, "I am happy." She answers, and Henry takes a breath of relief.

Henry looks over at Elizabeth again and she's looking down at Julia, swiping her fingers sweetly through the little tufts of hair she has on her head. She's squinting again, her mouth hanging partially open, and he knows once again that she's thinking about something. He wants to ask what it is, but not with Tori standing right here.

"I'm going to head over there and drop Julia off and then come back to get my stuff." Tori announces, "Is that okay with you guys?"

Elizabeth nods and looks at Henry, "Good with me." She confirms.

Henry nods as well, "Good here." He answers.

Elizabeth laughs and looks at Tori, "I guess that means you want your kid back, huh?"

Tori nods and smirks, "That'd be great." She teases and swoops her out of Elizabeth's arms.

"Let me know if you need anything." Henry calls out as Tori is making her way toward the door with a diaper bag slung over her arm.

When he hears the door shut, he looks over at Elizabeth who was staring off into outer space. "Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, shoveling more cereal in. It was starting to get that unfortunate sogginess to it.

She looks up and raises her brows at him, "Oh," she says as though she's been caught, "I was just…thinking."

"I could tell." Henry says and chuckles, "About what?"

"You mean you're not good enough yet to tell what I'm thinking about? Shame on you." She says, pouring some cereal into her bowl.

He smirks, "Not yet, I hope to be able to by year five."

"Year five? Wow, not big on ambitions I see."

"You're stalling."

"No I'm not." She argues, pouring the milk in on top of her cereal.

"Yes you are." He says, reaching into the box and taking a piece out, tossing it at her forehead.

"Hey!" She says, "Don't waste good food."

He laughs and goes back to his own cereal, "Fine, then tell me what you're thinking."

She sighs and shrugs, "I don't know…" she says, mixing her milk in with her cereal. Even though he finds it unfortunate that the cereal gets soggy from the milk, he knows Elizabeth likes her cereal to be softer before she eats it. One of those weird quirks that you really don't learn about each other until you live together. "I was just thinking how Julia is always going to be part of either John or the other guy…what's his name again?"

"Kevin." Henry answers with a mouthful.

"Right." She says, still mixing her cereal, "I feel…I feel good to be part of my parents. My parents were good people." She says, "Will Julia ever feel like that?"

"Maybe about Tori, but I don't know." Henry admits. "I don't think Kevin is a real winner, either."

Elizabeth shakes her head, "And then I thought about how…how kids are a part of you. One little part of each of its parents that gets to go out into the world. And how Tori will always get to see the world through Julia's eyes—see the pieces of her and see the unfortunate pieces of whoever her dad is." She says and shrugs, taking a bite of her soft cereal, "Kids…kids are just…" she's stammering now, and Henry can tell she's getting uncomfortable. He knows he won't press her if she doesn't finish the statement, even if she leaves him hanging like this.

"I get it." He says after a moment of silence.

She looks up at him and gives him a tired smile, "Thanks." She whispers, squeezing his hand before going back to her cereal again.

August 4, 1988 | Elizabeth

The house felt very empty all day while she was here alone. Tori had moved out all of her and Julia's things from the living room yesterday, and the sudden subtraction of clutter made Elizabeth feel slightly uncomfortable. It was just an almost-empty living room again, a sad excuse for a living room, at least, with the one couch and two lawn chairs. They finally had gotten a bookshelf that was for free by the road, and it was housing all their school books from last semester as well as some of their novels that they enjoyed reading in their free time.

Henry had gone back to work today at the coffee shop, but thankfully it's only a half day and he'll be coming home after his shift ends at noon. The house is too quiet with no screaming baby, with no Tori trying to console said screaming baby, and no Henry there to beat on things with a hammer or screw things into the wall. The house was pretty much finished now, and they were just putting the finishing touches on everything for Mark and Lisa to come over for dinner this weekend. Although she found herself missing the noise, she was thankful that it worked out that Julia and Tori were gone—having Mark and Lisa over with this seating arrangement would've been a nightmare otherwise.

The phone ringing made her jump—slightly because of the sudden, loud noise protruding through the quiet, but also because they never got phone calls hardly. Isabelle was pretty busy this summer with her internship, and that was all who called these days.

"Hello?" Elizabeth answers, still unsure what to call this house since they're not exactly "The McCords" and it can't be "The McCord Residence."

"Elizabeth," a voice says, and she recognizes it immediately, "I am so glad I finally got ahold of you. Do you know where Henry is? Is he okay?"

"Mrs. Elaine," Elizabeth says softly, "He's at work, he's fine."

"Oh," she says. It was obvious just from that one, two-letter word that she was defeated already, "I've been trying to get ahold of him for…" her voice trails off, and Elizabeth feels this immense amount of guilt crush her chest.

"I know." She says softly, trying to ease some of the pain. "He still loves you so much. I think he's just…he's afraid to be around any of you right now."

"I'm not the one who said that terrible thing about you."

"I know, Mrs. Elaine, I know. And Henry knows you stood up for me." She explains, "But I think he's more worried he'll say something he'll regret more than anything. Truly."

A sigh from the other end of the line made her close her eyes and grip the back of the couch, trying to not let her heart break for Henry's mother. "Well, how are you two doing?"

"Great," Elizabeth says, biting her lip while thinking about how they haven't ever told any of his family that they moved in together. "We're really doing great."

Her mind does that terrible thing where it shows her the worst possible memory for the worst possible moment—and she flashes back to last night when they were loud and the room was so hot that they had to take a shower (together) and where she felt this contradiction of being safe and ravished all at the same time. Why is it always the worst timing possible for those memories to flash in her mind?

"That's good to hear." Elaine answers. "Well, tell Henry I called, would you please?"

"I will." Elizabeth replies.

When Henry gets home a few minutes later, it's the first thing Elizabeth tells him: "Your mom called and asked how you—how we—were doing. I of course thought of the worst possible thing to think of while on the phone with my boyfriend's mom, and I'm just really glad that she wasn't in the room with me because my face was as red as a fire truck." She's babbling, but she can't stop, "Henry, I feel so bad for her. She sounded so heartbroken when she found out you were at work. Please…please don't keep shutting her out. She's just missing her—"

"Elizabeth." Henry says, his voice heavy and his shoulders slumping. She's just now realizing that he doesn't seem to be himself, and suddenly his expression is alarming her.

"Henry?" She asks, walking over to him and frowning, "What is it? What happened?"

He sets his umbrella down, soaking wet from walking in through the rain, "Elizabeth…" he says again, his voice shaking, "John…John…he…"

"What, Henry?" She asks again, trying to not panic, but feeling her fingers digging into his forearms. She immediately thought of Julia and Tori.

Henry shakes his head, "John got in an accident last night. Drunk driving." He says mindlessly, standing there like a zombie. "He's dead." He whispers.

"Oh, Henry." Elizabeth says, immediately squeezing his arms and then hugging him. Even though John was a piece of work, she knows he was Henry's first friend at UVA—the only friend he had for a while, even if he was a crappy one. "I'm so sorry." He whispers.

"Tori was in the car." He says shakily, his eyes filling with tears as she pulls away from him, "Julia was with Tori's dad, but Tori…she was in the car." He whispers, finally breaking and letting a sob out, "She's gone, too, Elizabeth."

She looks at him and feels her heart breaking for him, and she wonders then if Aquinas was right—if becoming bound together meant that one heart breaks for the both of them. She just lays her head on his chest and hugs him tightly, "I'm so sorry, Henry." She whispers, "I really am."

August 6, 1988 | Henry

He fumbles with his tie while standing in front of the mirror, and he swears he can hear a baby crying somewhere. But no, it's just his mind messing with him like it has for the past two days.

He's beat himself up ever since he found out. He's gone through at least a hundred different scenarios, but the one he always goes back to is the one where he doesn't let Tori go yet. Where he asks her to stay at least one more night. Would she have gone out with John then? Why did she go out with him in the first place? To make up with him? To ask him for forgiveness? That piece of shit didn't deserve to be asked for forgiveness—he deserved nothing that was good in his life. Not after the way he treated Elizabeth, and not after the way he treated Tori and Julia. A real man doesn't treat any woman like he did any of them.

Needless to say, none of the scenarios helped no matter how many times he ran through them in his head. "Dammit." He hisses as he messes up the tie once more, frustrated to have to start all over. He runs his fingers through it quickly, unknotting it from the halfway-tied tie.

"Here," Elizabeth whispers, swooping in front of him. She stands between him and the mirror, and he looks over her head for a moment while she first starts with his tie. He sees himself for the first time, sees her blonde head between himself and his reflection, and he wonders where he'd be without her.

For a countless time, he feels tears escape his eyes before he looks down at Elizabeth's face, "Thank you," he says while she finishes tying his tie.

She lays her palms on his chest, looking up at him, "You never have to thank me." She whispers, "I'm here for you."

"You'd think I could tie my own tie." He grumbles.

She shakes her head, touching his tie once more to make sure it was perfect, "When I lost my parents—when Will and I lost our parents—it was the simple things that I thought I'd be able to do just fine that were the hardest." She admits. "Something so simple as changing the light bulb in my bedroom light was something that sent me into a spiral because I just…I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it because it reminded me of the fact that I didn't have my dad here to do it for me anymore, but also because that one, simple little change was too much for me. Changing a light bulb somehow meant that it was a new life my parents wouldn't see. And I know it sounds silly, but that's how grief works so often." She explains.

He leans down and kisses her forehead, "Thank you." He whispers, "You look beautiful by the way."

She looks down and he's able to take in her full outfit again. He always loved her no matter what color she was wearing, but something about black made her eyes pop even more. The sadness she wears for him makes him believe Aquinas' words even more, knowing that love really must bind two people together. He sees her wearing the same hurt in her eyes that he feels, knowing they're bound together.