A/N: hi all! having a hard time (in life lol) so writing to ignore all the other stuff, you know? had to split this chapter up again because it was so long!
hope you enjoy!
[2014 – McCord Residence]
Henry nudges her arm, "Babe," he whispers, "It's time to wake up."
"What?" She mumbles, her eyes still closed.
"Wake up," he says quietly, "It's already 6:42. Your alarm didn't go off."
She shoots up, looking around and rubbing her eyes after she realizes she's at home, in bed, and also the Secretary of State. She sighs and it turns into a groan, "I couldn't go to sleep last night," she mumbles.
"I know," he says, sighing and sitting up with her, rubbing her back, "I noticed you were still awake at three."
She nods, "I can't stop thinking about Stevie." She whispers.
"I know."
It's quiet for a moment as she thinks back through the mistakes she made in college, the mistakes Henry made, too. But still, she stayed—she fought. Is it really worse to be the daughter of the Secretary of State at college than it was to be pregnant at college? Have I failed her somehow by not telling her about that time of my life? Of mine and Henry's life?
She takes a breath and scratches her head, "Maybe I should talk to her again."
"I think you should leave the talking to me." He murmurs.
She gives him a look, desperate and pitiful, and then she relaxes a little. "Maybe." She admits begrudgingly.
[1989 – Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, McCord Home]
She hadn't known exactly what to expect with Patrick and Elaine after Henry brought her home, but she was nervous enough that her hands were shaking when she went to shake Patrick's hand, and then shaking when she stuck her hand out for Elaine, too, when she just engulfed her in a hug instead. "I'm a hugger," she said, and it made Elizabeth think of meeting Jess for the first time, too.
They'd gotten to Pittsburgh so late last night that she hadn't really had much time to visit with them—Patrick had gone to bed not long after they'd arrived, grumbling about having to get up early and work, and though Elaine stayed up and chatted, it wasn't for long because it was already almost midnight.
On the way from Virginia to Henry's house, she'd asked him once in the passenger seat of his Bronco: "Can we wait to tell them?"
He was holding her hand at the time and he gave it a squeeze before saying "Sure," and that's all that was said on the matter.
But today, she's trying to get dressed in the guest room—what's actually Maureen's old room—and is tugging at the button on her jeans. She's worked up a sweat and feels sticky and huffs, "Come on," she grumbles, angling her elbow for different leverage.
Why are they so tight all of a sudden?
All the tugging has done is frustrate her, so she cracks the door open to look down the hall and see if the coast is clear. She tiptoes to Henry's room and walks in without knocking, not wanting to raise any alarms, and she sighs defeatedly with her zipper down and her pants hanging open. "I can't get them to close," she whimpers.
Henry just looks at her while holding his shirt in his hands, and she can tell he's trying to not laugh.
"It isn't funny…" she breathes.
"I know, I know," Henry says quickly, tossing his shirt on the bed and walking over to her. He takes the button and the loop in his hands and tries to make the two reach, but Elizabeth knows the attempt is futile: they're not going to button.
She takes a shaky breath and feels her stomach rumble, but it's not with nausea this time—she's starving. "I don't have anything bigger," she murmurs, already trying to push the spiraling thoughts away about how she's getting bigger now and that pretty soon nothing will fit.
Henry's staring at her jeans with his arms crossed, looking like a man who has been given a math problem to solve. Finally, he looks at her wrist, "Take your hair tie off," he instructs.
She looks down, "My hair tie?" She asks, picking at the band on her wrist, "Why?"
"Just hand it to me," he says, extending his arm out for her to stick it into his palm.
She does as he asks finally, and he squishes it, slides it in the buttonhole, and loops it around itself once. He then ties the other end around the button on her jeans and pulls her shirt down over it, "There," he says with a smile, "Now just zip them up as far as they'll go. I saw my mom do it a few times when she was pregnant with Erin."
Elizabeth is impressed, but she doesn't really admit just how impressed she is. She's looking down and zipping them up as far as they'll go, "How old is Erin?" She asks again, even though somewhere in all the McCord files she's learned over the past month she knows how old all his siblings are—he told her without her having to ask him even once, unlike Steve.
"She's twelve," he sighs.
"Right," Elizabeth says, tucking her shirt back over the zipper and button. She looks into his mirror and studies the bottom of her shirt hard, trying to tell if she can see anything is amiss, but it passes the test. "This is good work, Lance Corporal McCord," she teases.
He smiles, shrugging innocently and taking his shirt back into his hands. "I do what I can when I can with what I can," he jokes, and when he looks at her again, he loses his playfulness. "Are you okay?" He asks, his tone shifting.
She takes a moment before suddenly realizing she's crying as she's standing there in front of him, "It's a lot." She whispers.
This just became very real, she thinks, folding her arms over her stomach and resting them just underneath her chest. She looks down at the littlest, slightest bump underneath her shirt—one she'd never even notice any other day because it frankly looks like she's bloated. But she knows it's not just that—it's a baby. And she looks up and sees Henry staring at her cautiously, and thinks, his baby.
She turns away sharply and takes a deep breath, flooding her lungs with all the air they can get as she feels his hands on her shoulders now, "It's going to be okay," he reminds her.
"You keep saying that," she murmurs, half-frustrated and annoyed and half-exhausted.
How are we going to make this work? How are we going to stay in school? How are we going to have careers with a kid? How will we ever graduate? What if he leaves me?
He's rubbing his thumbs into her shoulders, "Tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.
What's going on? What's not going on?
She lets out a frustrated noise and shimmies out of his hands, "Henry," she breathes, "What goes on in my head every single day since Thanksgiving that is now only amplified this morning because my jeans don't fit—because I'm realizing that this is really happening because it's not just sickness anymore, it's something physically…visibly happening."
Her voice is getting whinier, and she's fully aware of it and also is annoyed it. She runs her fingers through her hair and accidentally catches her reflection in his mirror, and she sees him watching her while keeping his hands to his sides.
Finally, though, he moves again and reaches out to her hand, pulling her gently toward the bed and beckoning her to sit down with him. She does, and he holds both of her hands.
"Tell me what you're most worried about," he says, his own voice splattered with shakiness.
She looks at him, immediately unsure what she's most worried about. "So much of it."
"Pick just one thing," Henry instructs softly.
She shrugs a little and shakes her head, huffing, "I don't know…" she murmurs, "I guess school would be the foremost thing."
He nods, "You're staying in school," he says, and just like Aunt Janet said it a few days ago, it wasn't a question but a simple statement.
"How am I going to do that?" She asks, "Not even considering this semester, but next semester I'll have a baby, Henry—a baby that has to be fed and…" she stops talking because, really, she hasn't thought of what all babies entail. "I'll be a senior that year and will have senior projects and—"
He interrupts her when he shakes his head, "We'll do it together, Elizabeth." He says sternly, still holding her hands as he looks at her intensely, "You're going to stay in school and so am I, and we'll figure out our schedules so that one of us can always be home with the baby."
"You make that sound so easy," Elizabeth says.
"I don't mean to," Henry whispers, shrugging, "I know it's not going to be."
She swallows thick, waiting a few long, silent moments, "Are you sure you want this?" She asks, "You want your life to be turned upside down like this? Because I'm—" she stops herself again. She doesn't want to admit to him, again, that she's unsure about her decision.
He takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly, "I'm not sure," he whispers, and she feels a little better that he also is unsure.
"And this…" he laughs dryly, shaking his head and looking away momentarily, "This sounds ridiculous, but if my life is turned upside down with you, then it is. So be it." He says, shrugging, "I don't want it to be turned upside down, I'd rather it be right side up and that we have a normal relationship and get to know each other slowly before one day settling down and getting married and having kids."
She feels her body go rigid, thinking, there's that M word again.
"But that's not how it happened," he follows, "We skipped a lot of that, and…" he shrugs again and smiles sheepishly at her, "We've worked out so far."
"It's been a month, Henry," she says soberly.
He shrugs again, "I know," he says, "But look at what all we've conquered just this month alone." He reminds her, and she looks down at their hands and thinks back to how mopey she was whenever he was gone for the deployment, though it was briefer than she'd expected. "And we're still here, and I still love you."
She swallows thick and looks up at him, taking a shaky breath, "I love you," she whispers back. In all her unsurety, she's sure that she loves him—she's sure of it because he still feels like her home whenever she's in his presence, and he always has, even that night at the Kappa Sig house.
"What are you most worried about?" She asks, turning the question around on him.
He swallows thick, shrugging and looking away. "Our careers," he whispers, almost ashamed to say it.
But she squeezes his hand, and he continues.
"I don't want to lose us, who we are…" he admits, "I don't know if…if that's always possible becoming a parent though." His voice becomes a bit more distant as though he's thinking deeply about something, and she finds herself wishing she could see inside his head.
She swallows thick, looking down at their hands again and the way he's rubbing his thumb across her skin. He's scared too, she thinks, how had I not seen before that he's scared too? Of course he's scared…
He looks at her and it makes her look at him, too, and she sees the nerves in the lines between his eyes, "I don't want us to give up on trying to be us at least, you know?"
"I know," she says.
He sighs quietly, tilting his head a little, "I think my mom really liked you."
She's grateful for the subject change, and she smiles sweetly, her eyelids getting heavy even though it's only been less than an hour since she woke up. "You think?" She asks, "I hoped she did—she's so nice."
He nods, "She seemed like she did." He confirms.
She stays silent a moment and twists her lips, "Do you think we should tell her?"
He shrugs softly, "It's up to you, babe," he says gently, moving her hands so that they're between both of his protectively, "If you want to, I'm all in, but I get it if you want to wait, too."
She takes a moment to think, but then she shakes her head, "I don't know yet," she whispers.
"Just know I'm behind you."
She laughs dryly, shaking her head again in disbelief, "How are you not mad about this?" She asks, "Doesn't any part of this make you want to punch a wall?"
He smiles a little, shrugging, "Yeah," he admits, "All of it actually—even you hiding it from me," he pauses and she looks down at their hands again, taking a sharp breath, "But like I said before, you're upset, and you're scared. Why would I yell at you for that?"
"Because you're human." She answers immediately.
He's shaking his head when she looks up at him again, finding the words to say and studying her. "Do you want me to yell at you?"
"It may make me feel better." She says, and though it wasn't a joke, she couldn't help but laugh when she sees his face and the irony written on it. He's joining her, too, and she just lays down pitifully with her head on his lap. "I would feel a lot better about it all if I could just see into the future," she murmurs.
"You mean you can't?" Henry teases, running his fingers along her temple and pushing her hair back behind her ear. She shoots him a playful look, and he smiles back down at her, "I can."
It perks her up a bit, and she raises a brow at him, waiting for the rest of this story.
He shrugs, "I see us bringing a little baby home—I don't know where home is yet, but it's not our dorms." Her stomach sinks at the thought of moving in with a boy, leaving Jess behind. "And I see us having a lot of late nights and a lot of early mornings to try and get to class on time." He explains, swallowing hard, "And then I see us raising it—I see a boy, but…" he smiles a little bit and looks down at her, pressing his lips together and then biting his bottom one, "I'm okay with a girl too."
She's trying to control her breathing the entire time he's talking, and when she starts thinking about the baby—starts trying to do what he's doing and imagining it—she thinks immediately of a girl. "I see us as girl parents." She admits. For the first time, she says it without any negative feeling attached to it—thinking of herself as a parent for the first time without also cringing.
"I would be okay with that." He says and smiles, still pushing her hair behind her ear lovingly.
She looks up at him into his eyes and swallows hard, taking a deep breath and twisting her lips, "I think we should tell your mom before we leave to go back to school." She whispers.
He shrugs, "I'm fine with it."
She nods, "Okay," she says, turning so that she's laying on her stomach and her hands are draped over his legs, her face beside his hip as she looks into his eyes for a few moments. When he smiles at her, she's brought back to reality for a moment—they're in his childhood room, on break from school, and they have a baby together.
A baby.
She feels the nausea rise in her throat and swallows, attempting to keep it down, but she has to scramble off the bed to get to Henry's trash can in time instead.
The kids—Shane and Erin—have been outside all morning playing with a group of friends down their street. Patrick, Elizabeth remembers, is at work for the day even though it's New Year's Eve. Elaine has been a busy bee this morning—she's cooked breakfast for them and then lunch, and now they're still sitting and chatting in the living room. She'd brought Elizabeth a blanket only moments ago, and she's snuggled under it now as she listens to Elaine talk about Henry as a child.
"He was such a good baby," she says, wrinkling her nose and smiling as the memories seem to play out in front of her own eyes, "He slept through the night by the time he was two months old, but then when he started walking, that's when all of it changed."
Elizabeth looks over at Henry and presses her lips together, widening her eyes playfully. Henry just shrugs with a little smirk.
"He was running before he could walk well," Elaine explains, shaking her head, "So he broke his wrist when he was fifteen months old, and then he refused to keep a diaper on from the time he could stand up on his own."
"Mom…" Henry murmurs.
Elizabeth snickers and leans into his side, "Oh no, do tell." She says to Elaine, though she's looking up at him.
She realizes after a few moments that it's total silence in the living room, Henry is looking down into her eyes and she'd forgotten momentarily where they were because she was about to reach up and kiss him. But then Elaine clears her throat, cutting through the silence and making Elizabeth jump just slightly, pulling away.
"Elizabeth," Elaine says softly, "Would you like some coffee or anything?"
She shakes her head, "I'm okay, thank you." She says, still thinking about Henry as a baby and how Elaine just dotes over him still. Wondering, too, if she is going to be able to do that with her own kids. She looks down at Henry's hand on her knee and she takes a deep breath, pulling her hand out from under the blanket and laying it on top of his. "Mrs. McCord," she says.
"Elaine, really, honey." She corrects.
Elizabeth feels her face get a little hot as she looks at her with a sheepish grin, "Right," she says, "Elaine…we have something we want you to know."
"You're getting married?" Elaine assumes, clapping her hands together excitedly, "I just knew you two had something to tell us! I can't believe Henry here wouldn't tell me about it before now, but—"
"No, Mom…" Henry says gently, and Elaine deflates a little.
Her hands are still clasped as she looks between the two of them, back and forth meeting their eyes individually, "Oh." She says, straightening her back and tilting her head, "What is it then?"
Henry shifts and Elizabeth feels sick again, but she looks at Henry desperately. He's catching on, and he nods at her softly before turning his gaze to his mother again. "We're, um…" he murmurs, "We're having a baby."
The silence feels like another repeat of Aunt Janet, and Elizabeth can't bring herself to look up into Elaine's eyes at all. She just picks mindlessly at the blanket under her hands and feels deafened by the complete nothingness in the air.
Finally, she hears Elaine shift against the cloth of her chair, and she glances up quickly to see Elaine staring at them both. She doesn't seem mad, though, and she doesn't even look disappointed. She just looks…blank. Emotionless, like Aunt Janet did before she stormed out on Elizabeth.
Henry's hand is holding hers and squeezing it tight, and she can feel it shaking. She sets her other hand on his forearm, and he looks down at her before Elaine finally speaks up.
"Well," she says, and Elizabeth's eyes dart up to meet hers finally. She's taking a deep breath, making Elizabeth wait in agony—and Henry, too, since he's still shaking. "I'm always happy to have more grandbabies." She whispers, trying to force a smile on her face.
She shifts her focus to Henry for a moment, and then back to Elizabeth, and it's clear that she's studying them both. She takes a deep breath, clearing her throat, "Are you both sure about this?" She asks, mostly looking at Elizabeth. "I don't want to be excited until I know you're sure."
Elizabeth lets out a laugh, and she doesn't mean to. She just feels it come out of her mouth before she can stop it, and she feels her neck redden. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "I'm just…I'm sure. I'm terrified, and I don't know what the hel—" She stops, remembering Henry's Catholic and is mom is staunchly Catholic, "What I'm doing…" she murmurs, "But I can't…I can't imagine trying to…" she stutters around the subject a bit, looking down finally and admitting silently that she can't continue.
Henry squeezes her hand gently and looks up at his mom, "We had a one night stand," he says briskly.
She shoots a look at him, "Henry…" she whispers, not able to even look at his mother now.
He looks at her and shakes his head, "She deserves to know," he says softly, "It was…a total mishap for us both."
"I should think so," Elaine says pointedly, only directing her disappointment at Henry.
Henry nods, "It was. We both…we both had…we were both very messed up that day." He murmurs, "Not that it's an excuse to do what we did, but we did it and we have this…this chance now." He says, and Elizabeth looks up at him with a softer gaze. "And I'm not even…well, I'm ashamed of what we did." He admits, "But I'm not ashamed of how it all turned out. Elizabeth's it for me." He says to Elaine.
Elizabeth, for a moment, feels like she's sitting in on what should've been a private conversation between he and his mom. When the silence surrounds them again, she almost stands up and leaves the room to let them talk, but Elaine starts again.
"Elizabeth," she says, and the way it comes off her teeth makes Elizabeth stiffen. She looks over at the McCord matriarch and pops her fingers, "This is your decision?" She asks.
"It's—" Henry interrupts.
"I'm not talking to you, son," Elaine says sternly, never looking at him. "I'm talking to Elizabeth, and I'm asking her if this is her decision."
Henry is wanting to fight, but Elizabeth squeezes his hand, understanding Elaine's question more than he was. "It is," she whispers, remembering what Henry said about her deserving to know, "I had an abortion scheduled." She admits shakily, "And I couldn't do it. I hadn't told Henry yet even and I…" she shrugs, watching Elaine's shoulders relax, "I just couldn't."
Elaine nods a little and stands up, and Elizabeth fully expects her to storm out of the room. Instead, though, she comes and sits on the other side of Elizabeth—squished between Henry and her now. She turns her entire body and hugs Elizabeth tightly, and Elizabeth drags her arms out from Henry's hand and the blanket to hug her back.
Elaine's arms are shaking as she squeezes Elizabeth's back, and Elizabeth closes her eyes when her vision goes blurry. She attempts to take a breath, but it gets caught in her throat, and Elaine immediately starts rubbing her back. "It's okay," she whispers to Elizabeth.
She lets her shoulders shake a little in her arms, and she tries to open her eyes but they're just blocked with all the tears that are continuing to fall. She sniffles, unable to bring herself to say anything.
"It's okay," Elaine whispers, "You can cry."
And Elizabeth does—she didn't know how much she was holding it in until her entire body wracked with sobs, and her thumbs were blue from holding onto them so tight behind Elaine's back. But Elaine just lets her cry, and she rubs her back in big circles between her shoulder blades.
"It's a big decision, and you can cry about it." She whispers.
Elizabeth shudders and gently starts pulling away, and Elaine reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear gently—a move her own mother used to do. She blinks at her, thinking, no wonder Henry's so amazing. It had to be all because of you.
She wipes her tears and sniffles again, hiccupping a little from the way she'd been crying. She feels Henry's hand on her lower back now too, and she wonders how long it had been there. "Thank you," she whispers, all she's able to think of that's somewhat intelligent.
Elaine shakes her head, "Pish posh." She whispers, "We're family now, and this is what families do."
Elizabeth tries to not melt back into Elaine, and instead she just lets her shoulders slump a little. I've never had this kind of family, Elaine…you don't know what it's been like to not have a shoulder to cry on.
Henry rubs her back gently, "I keep telling her that we're going to lean on each other a lot," he says quietly, "I'm here for the long haul."
She looks down and cocks her jaw to the side, and Elaine reaches for her hand gently, "He better be, and if he isn't, you tell me immediately, okay?" She tells Elizabeth.
It's enough to bring a smile on her face, and Elizabeth nods a little as she swipes her tears away again, "Okay," she whispers.
Elaine smiles, too, and squeezes her hand. "No wonder you've been so nervous acting," she says, looking over Elizabeth's shoulder to Henry. "You've barely touched any of your food today."
Elizabeth looks over her shoulder at him and he's got an embarrassed grin, "I didn't know you noticed."
"I'm your mother," Elaine breathes, "I notice everything."
Elizabeth feels a lump in her throat as she is still looking at Henry, and then she looks back at Elaine again. I wonder if my mother would've known? If she would've noticed before I had the courage to tell her? Elaine's smiling at her gently and rubbing her wrist.
"Do you feel okay?" She asks.
Elizabeth laughs, "No," she whispers, "I've felt terrible."
Henry's rubbing her back again, "She's thrown up a lot."
"Have you told your doctor?" Elaine asks.
Elizabeth looks down shyly, licking her lips, "I haven't been."
"Oh," Elaine says, and it makes Elizabeth's heart sink. "Well," she says, "You need to add that to the things to do soon," she says, obviously trying to not alarm Elizabeth with her careful tone and choice of words. "So you don't know how far along you are?"
Elizabeth nods, "I do," she says, wondering if Elaine had already forgotten the talk about the one night stand Henry had so freely offered, "I'm eleven weeks."
Elaine visibly looks like she's about to float suddenly, and Elizabeth watches her as she smiles at Henry and gets teary eyes. "Wow," she whispers, blowing breath out shakily through pursed lips, "My baby boy is really having a baby."
Henry laughs, "Mom…"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She whispers, "This is big for me too, son."
It's Elizabeth's turn to squeeze Elaine's hand, and Elaine's eyes look into hers. She smiles at his mother, feeling some weird, unexplainable feeling rising up in her chest. "You raised him so well," she whispers, "Henry's been the best thing to happen to me, even if he did turn us upside down in the meantime."
Elaine laughs a little and looks down, nodding, "He's my good boy," she says sweetly, and Elizabeth squeezes her hand again gently.
Elizabeth watches her for a few moments before she looks back at Henry, and he reaches around Elizabeth's hip and rubs his mom's arm, "You taught me all I know," he whispers.
Elaine smiles at him and tilts her head, fighting her own tears again, "I like to think so," she says playfully, and they are all smiling now on this couch with Elizabeth sandwiched between them.
This is what family feels like, she thinks to herself, making it a point to remember this moment, this is what it's about.