Unknown Location, Iraq – April 2004

He's playing music. Slow music. Ballads. Specifically American Ballads from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. He's looking for something that will make her tick. It's his favorite game these days. She's primarily non-responsive to him. She does what he asks, and it's starting to bore him. He broke her. At least, he thinks he did. Elizabeth isn't broken. However, she's just playing along. She's just buying time. But then there is a punch to her gut. Metaphorical but heavy and painful. It's so painful she wishes he would've just hit her. The man smiles at her when her eyes flicker with pain before she closes them as she rebuilds her wall. She opens her eyes and looks straight ahead and away from his. He wants her to react. He wants her to show pain. It gives him pleasure. He likes the power. He wants her to scream and fight.

"This song means something to you." He states it like a fact. It is a fact. It means more to her than she'll ever let him know. "You know I can read you."

She says nothing. Her lips are pressed tight together. Her jaw is tense and set. She can't say anything. Her eyes close, and he sighs. He can see she's thinking of a better place.

"It reminds you of home, right?"

She doesn't want to open her eyes. She doesn't want to hear his voice. She doesn't want to listen. She can't help it. He knows how to get into her head.

"Dance with me." He demands. He reaches out his hand.

Her eyes are open now, and she looks at his hand and then into his eyes. He smiles. He thinks he has won. But she won't give him this. She refuses to follow this rule. This man doesn't get to take Peter Frampton away from her. He doesn't get to ruin her memories of this song. Of dancing in the kitchen. Of swaying. Of being held. Of her head on Henry's chest. Of her arms around him. Of his hands holding her tight. Of Henry humming in her ear as they made love to this song. No. He doesn't get that.

"No." She says. She waits for his fist to connect with her face. It doesn't. That's not the game he's playing today. This isn't about physical pain.

"Elizabeth." He says her name so sweetly. "Don't make me ask again."

Her eyes look into his and then back down. She doesn't want to do this. Her eyes catch her photo of her kids. She remembers her plan. Gain his trust. Make him think he broke her in. Her shaking hand rises to meet his. He smiles and pulls her up off the bed and towards him. She closes her eyes. She doesn't want to be this close to him. Her heart is beating fast.

"Look at me." Her eyes meet his, and suddenly, this is worse than anything he's ever done. She can disassociate when he uses her body. But this is forced intimacy. And it's the most painful thing she's had to endure yet. "This is a good song, don't you think?"

She nods. She doesn't know how she manages not to cry. His hold isn't right. She can't pretend to be somewhere with Henry. Not with this. He is too big. He smells too much like cigarettes. His stubble is too rough. He is not gentle. He's not careful with her. His fingers dig into her hips, and she winces. She wants to fight her way out of his grip. She wants to vomit. She wants to run.

"I like this one." His breath is warm on her neck, making her stomach churn. "I'm glad you chose it."

She wants to scream that she didn't choose this. She would never choose this. This song belongs to her and her husband. This song belongs to her wedding night. This song belongs to a car ride with the windows down and Henry's hand on her thigh. This song belongs to the hospital rooms she labored in with Henry's hands massaging her back. This song is hers and Henry's and Frampton's.

"You and I have good taste." He continues. She wishes he'd stop talking.

It's a good thing he can't read minds. He would know how much she hates him. How much she wishes she could kill him. She wishes he could see her plans to kill him because she will. One day, he will let her out of this room. She will get supplies. And she will kill him.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." The intimacy in his voice makes her sick. That is not a thought that crossed her mind. Not even for a second. She has no words to say to that. She supposes in his sick way he does love her. He would've killed her months ago if he didn't have a long-term plan for her. Suppose he wasn't enjoying this, she'd be dead. This isn't about using her and losing her.

The song is almost over. She's hoping for a miracle that he'll let her go and be done for the day. She's not sure she can take any more of this. But instead of pulling away, he holds her tighter. A tear fights its way out of her eye. She can't help it.

"It's okay to cry." He whispers.

She doesn't want to cry. Not here. Not in front of him. Not for him. She's crying because her husband is the only one who is allowed to hold her like this. He's taking something worse from her now than his previous actions. This closeness, this softness, is a far more devastating blow. It's an assault on her soul. She feels this has permanently broken a piece of her that she will never be able to repair.

"You look beautiful." He says. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had a woman in my arms like this?" He can tell he is getting to her. He wants to break her once and for all. He can feel her resolve slipping. Her hands are starting to tremble. Her lip is starting to quiver.

The song stops. It's a relief. Until she hears the opening bars of the next song, the tears fall down her cheeks, and she can do nothing to stop them. This is too much. She hadn't prepared herself for this. His physical violence she can take. Her body has become numb to it. But she can't force total numbness on her brain if she wants to escape. Not if she wants to remember the things she is fighting for. She needs to be in control of her actions and her emotions. She needs to make him think he has won. She needs him to think she is right where he wants her.

"You're being so good lately." He smiles with a sinister edge. He knows how much it gets to her when he uses infantilizing language. There is something fun for him in breaking down a woman who carries the strength Elizabeth McCord does. And he knows her strength is still there. And he wants her gone.

She's trying not to shake, but she can't help it. His breath is hot against her skin. His fingers are digging into her waist. His body's pressure against hers makes her want to crawl out of her skin. And when the song switches to Springsteen, she breaks. She's not sure why the image of Henry singing No Surrender in their kitchen is what does it, over the images Baby, I Love Your Way flashes in her mind. But it does.

"Please stop. Please, don't. Please." The words fall from her mouth in a jumble of tears.

"I knew you'd give in." His lips are at her ear, and his words make her sob. She pushes against his chest needing distance. She needs air.

"Stop." She can't breathe. "I'm gonna be sick."

He pushes her down on the bed, and she curls into the fetal position. She's trying to block out everything around her. Her body goes numb. It's a long night.

Pittsburgh, PA – April 2004

Henry is nervous. There is something sacred about the first ultrasound. The nine-week ultrasound. He knows this. He and Elizabeth shared three of these. And every single one had strengthened their marriage. They were the moments when they saw their babies for the first time. It was a moment of awe. A moment of reverence. A moment of complete and utter joy. And, a moment of fear. Always a little fear. But that fear is dampened by being with the person you love. Being with the person you want to build a family with. Being with the person you hope never leaves. Except she did leave. Her death left a void Henry can't quite fill in their family. It left a hole in his heart that he is slowly healing.

And now he's here with another woman. It's a surreal experience. It feels wrong. And yet, it's happening. Jessica is pregnant. Pregnant. He has to come to terms with that. The only way to do that is to accept it. He has to accept this as a reality. He has to be in the moment and enjoy it for himself and his child. He watches her now. The way she walks. Her hand is on her stomach, protecting the life growing inside her. She's a bit of a mystery to him. In the short time he's known her, she has revealed little. He can feel her brilliance, however. She oozes intelligence. Sometimes, it makes him uneasy, but it also makes her easy to talk to. He senses her kindness. It seems she is always trying to help to solve problems. She's awkward, and he wonders if this is because she's a genius. He is trying to expand his heart for her. He wants to feel good about her. About this. But she's not Elizabeth. But maybe she doesn't have to be. What he and Elizabeth had was beautiful. It was pure love built on a solid friendship. And maybe he can grow a friendship here.

There is no doubt that he finds Jessica attractive. She's gorgeous. And if he is being honest, she's a little dangerous. She has this look in her eye like she will take down the world. Maybe not in the wrong way. Just in an I've-had-to-fight-my-way-through-life kind of way. He likes that trait in a person. It makes them attractive. They can speak to one another freely. She keeps up with him and matches wits. Maybe this will work.

"Are you nervous?" Her voice breaks him out of thought.

"A little. You?"

"No." She grins at him.

They are called back, and Jessica goes through the routine of getting weighed, her vitals, and answering questions. Henry remains quiet and supportive. She can see that he's not quite sure what to do.

Soon, they are waiting in the ultrasound room. The gel is placed on Jessica's abdomen. Her hand grabs Henry's as the sonographer runs the wand over her skin. Henry squeezes her hand. This moment is always so intimate. Seeing your baby for the first time is something the two of them will always share. This moment should be calm and exciting. But neither of them feels it. Instead, they are both anxious.

The sonographer stops her eyes on the monitor. She presses a few buttons and then turns the monitor to them. She is smiling. Henry's eyes fill with tears. He sees them. Them. There are two little sacks and two little blobs. Henry swallows. Twins. His babies.

Jessica looks at him. He can't help it. A tear slips down his cheek. Her hand lets go of his and comes up to wipe it away. He catches her hand and kisses her palm. His heart fills with a kind of happiness that has been gone for so long. This moment is so real for him. He lets himself feel the excitement. The joy. He is going to be a father again.

Jessica watches Henry. He is so emotional. She knows she got him. He's not going anywhere. She lets herself fall. She lets the feeling of this moment wash over her. This is the moment. The moment her heart expands. The moment she starts to love. The moment she knows that she wants this with her. He wants these babies. Her plan worked.

"Congratulations." The sonographer's voice cuts through the silence.

Henry is speechless. He can't speak. He's crying. Happy tears. He keeps his eyes glued to the screen. There are so many things to figure out and to rearrange. But he's happy to take on the task. He bends down and places a soft kiss on Jessica's forehead. "Thank you."

He doesn't say more, and he doesn't need to. She is content.

Jessica looks at the screen. Her own tears are now falling. She sees her babies. She has a family for the first time. She has Henry, his children, and these twins. She has everything.

Her eyes move from the screen and meet Henry's. There is a new look in his eyes. They are no longer dull and lifeless. There is hope in those depths. The void he's been stuck in is lifting. He has direction now. Maybe it's not the way he wanted to get it. But it's there. And this ultrasound is now just as sacred as the others he was privileged enough to be a part of.

…X…X...X…

He walks into his parent's house with Jessica for the first time. It's a big step. He has decided he can't wait longer to tell his children about these babies. Team McCord's lives are about to change once again entirely. They are still grieving their mother, and so is he. But the twins exist now and will be here by the end of the year. So, there is no more waiting. He will tell the kids tonight.

Henry opens the door, and they walk in. "I'm home," he yells.

His father is the first to come around the corner. Patrick looks Jessica up and down. Henry knows how hard it can be to pass Patrick McCord's approval test. But he is confident that his dad will like her. Of course, he thought he'd like Elizabeth, too.

"Dad, this is Jessica Richardson. Jessica, this is my dad, Patrick."

Jessica steps forward and shakes his hand. "It's very nice to meet you."

Henry can tell that Patrick is thinking. He is assessing. He is judging everything about her, whether her clothes are too expensive. Whether or not her smile is genuine. Whether or not she will treat his grandchildren right.

"You too. Please come in. Anne is in the kitchen with the kids." Patrick says.

Patrick leads them into the kitchen, where his mother and children sit. Henry suddenly loses his nerve. Stevie looks so much like Elizabeth today. It takes his breath away. Her eyes are bright and curious as her grandmother teaches her to make her famous apple pie.

"Hey, guys. This is Jessica." Henry gestures to her without taking his eyes off his daughters. He knows Jason is too young to understand the importance of this moment. But Stevie and Allison they aren't. They will remember the day he brought this woman into their lives and introduced her as the woman who will be around for the rest of their lives.

"Why is she here?" Stevie's words are venomous. At ten, she knew when her dad started dating. She figured it out when he would leave them with their grandparents on Thursday nights. She hated it. She didn't tell him that, but she never thought he'd bring her around. She wants her mom. She wishes her mom was here. But she's not, and her dad is dating some other woman.

"Stevie... Uhh, she will be around from now on, little one." He moves closer to her. His arms wrap around her shoulders. Stevie gets out of his grasp.

"Why?" Stevie's eyes fill with tears. Henry looks at his mother, and she gives him a look. His parents know about the pregnancy, but this isn't how he wanted this to go. He wanted it to be calm and gentle. He didn't know that the mere presence of a woman who was not her mother would quickly upset Stevie.

"Stevie..." Jessica takes a step toward her. Henry looks at her and shakes his head. Stevie's anger is a force to be reckoned with. He's afraid of what will happen if Stevie lashes out at Jessica. He knows Stevie has Elizabeth's fire. All of their kids do in one way or another.

"I want to go home." Stevie's voice is small, and she tries her hardest not to cry. She looks at her father. She has always been her daddy's little girl. Henry's torn. He doesn't know how to de-escalate this. He looks at his other two children. Allison is quiet and watching. And little Jason couldn't be the wiser to the tension in the room as he throws his small rubber ball into his little basketball hoop.

"Sweetheart, let's go talk, okay? Mom, you got the little ones?" Henry says as he holds his hand for Stevie. She looks at his hand. He can tell she is debating whether or not she should take it. He prays she does. After a beat, her little hand slips into his. He takes her on a walk. Being outside works for Stevie the same way it always worked for Elizabeth.

They are quiet until they reach the end of the block.

"I didn't mean to upset you little one. I'm sorry." Henry begins.

Stevie looks at him, her blue eyes filled with sadness. "Then why is she here?"

Henry doesn't know how to answer that. He thinks for a minute and decides to rip off the band-aid.

"Jessica is pregnant. You are going to be a big sister again. That's why she is here. Because we are going to be a family."

Stevie stops. Her face grows red. And then her eyes grow big, and they fill with tears.

"How could you!" She yells.

"Stevie, please."

"No! You are replacing Mom! How could you do that!" Stevie sobs, and Henry's heart breaks.

"No, sweetheart. No one could ever replace your mom. I loved her. I still love her. No one will ever take her place. Not even Jessica. It's different. I know this is a lot, and I know you're sad. I'm still sad, too. And I promise I will never let anyone take your mom's place, okay? She will always be your mother. Always. And this doesn't change that." Henry pulls his daughter close and holds her tight.

"I miss her so much, Daddy."

"I know. I know."

They walk for a long time. Henry stays quiet once Stevie stops crying. He wants to give her space to feel everything she's feeling. Learning how painful and confusing life can be is not fun for a ten-year-old. He knows this. And he knows he needs to prepare her for it.

"What does Jessica think of us?" Stevie asks.

"She wants to get to know you three." He says honestly.

"Do you promise you won't get rid of us and start a new family? I don't want a new family, Dad. We are a family."

"Sweetheart, listen. You are all my world. You are my children. You are my blood. I am not going to replace any of you with a new family. We are just adding people to ours. And I think we can. I think we have enough love to go around. Don't you?"

"I don't know. I miss her."

"So do I, but the only thing we can do is honor her memory. You, me, and Allison. And Jason when he's older. I promise you I will not forget about her. We will still celebrate her birthday. We will still put flowers on her grave on Mother's Day. We will still keep all of the pictures out at our house. I am not going to erase her. We are just going to live our lives. It's what she would have wanted."

Stevie doesn't say anything else. They make their way back to his parent's home. When they enter, Henry goes straight for the kitchen. Stevie follows.

The scene has shifted. Henry smiles as he looks around. Jessica is playing with Jason. And she's talking and laughing with Allison. Patrick has even cracked a smile. And his mother is sitting at the kitchen island, watching them all with a content look.

Henry moves to Jessica and kisses her cheek. He knows this will work. He knows he can do this. He knows he can find it in himself to be happy again.