Chapter Text
Alex was trying to soak in the comforting monotony of the Lau. The books, the scattered chairs, the truly heinous architecture. He hadn’t slept in about 36 hours, but he’d gone longer than that before so he should be fine. Alex generally tried to get his work done at home, but a thousand little reasons– convenience, resources, change of scenery, the absurdity of taking a private car less than two miles on taxpayers’ dime– piled up until he found himself trying transmute an outline into a fully formed essay while sitting on the second floor of the campus library. He’d even managed to snag a table in a corner, where it would be difficult for any of his classmates to take a good photo of him. He’d learned the hard way that people weren’t above that.
The MOVE crisis was a wake up call for the city of Ph–
No, that wasn’t right. He deleted and started again.
When John Africa founded the Christian Movement for Li–
No, that wasn’t it either. He backspaced and tried again.
In 1985, the City of Philadelphia bombed the private residence that was the headquarters for MOVE, an anarchist group that focused on animal rights and black liberation, resulting in the deaths of eleven people, including five children. Several contributing factors caused the conflict between MOVE, the surrounding community, and the police to escalate to this point. In th–
NO! Fuck, why did everything he wrote sound so stupid? The entire paper was already swimming around in his head, but he felt like each sentence was a fish he had to catch separately. With his bare hands. He slammed his computer shut.
A walk was what he needed.
He packed up quickly and rushed outside, trusting Cash to follow.
Down the street, a turn, another turn.
Oh, the Exorcist steps, what if he flung himself down those; then he wouldn’t have to Do Midterms at All Haha So Funny.
Across the street,
through the little park,
down the stairs,
across the bridge over the canal.
He zoned out, following his feet.
Onto the sidewalk.
Across another street.
Into the big park, oh look there’s the river, concrete, concrete, tourist with overpriced cupcake, woman walking a dog, grass… oh, there was the labyrinth carved into the ground.
He could follow that.
It would be calming.
He traced the blue and yellow lines of the labyrinth, counting his steps, taking in deep breaths of the frankly questionable scent of the Potomac River. But as he neared the center of his path, he found himself taking faster breaths, almost gasping. Was he dying? No, this had happened before. Fuck, his chest hurt so much. He was on the ground, not sure if his legs gave out or if he’d knelt down on purpose.
“Alex, can I touch you?” Came Cash’s quiet voice. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”
Alex managed to nod, pulling at his hair, and was helped to his feet. He didn’t follow what happened next, but when he looked up, he was in the black sedan that took him to and from school.
Alex knew in the back of his mind that he wasn’t dying, but that didn’t help. June would know what to do. He pulled out his phone as his vision waved, clicking her contact.
The phone rang three times.
“Hello?” The cautious voice came. That wasn’t June. It was a guy, who– Alex yanked the phone away from his ear to look at the “HRH Prince Dickhead” staring up at him from his phone screen. Alex’s breaths came in gasps.
“I’m sorry. This was an accident, nevermind–“ Alex forced out.
“Alex, are you okay? Don’t hang up. Are you safe?” Henry rushed.
It took a few seconds for Alex to respond.
“I’m safe. Panic attack.” His voice was scratchy and his mouth was dry.
“Okay, do you want me to talk about something else? That always helps me.”
The line was silent, which Henry took as agreement. “Alright, I’m sitting in one of the oldest parts of Kensington Palace. I’m almost positive Queen Victoria decorated it. The whole thing is absurdly ornate, including the rug. One time, when we were kids, Bea threw up on the rug after she ate an entire tube of Jaffa cakes to get back at me for…”
Alex let Henry’s voice wash over him. He didn’t particularly follow along with Henry’s words, just allowed himself to get lost in the musical rise and fall of them, the soft edges of his accent. Eventually, his breathing slowed. His shoulders lowered, and he cleared his throat to test his voice.
Henry paused at the sound.
“Thank you, I– that really helped.” The car had arrived back at the White House, and Alex gave Cash a thumbs up as he got out. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly.
“Of course I did, Alex. I wasn’t going to leave you hurting.” The words were low and careful, and Alex felt them settle into his chest and make his throat tighten.
“I know we didn’t end on the best note the last time we talked, though,” Alex insisted.
“I actually wanted to apologize for that,” Henry said quickly.
Alex didn’t know what to say to that, so he let the comment hang for a moment, slightly enjoying the awkwardness.
“I’m not going to say it’s okay,” he finally said. “Because in general if someone tells you that you’re being problematic and you immediately hang up on them, that’s a dick move. But, I could have handled it a little better.” He had made his way through the East Wing, climbed the stairs, and shut his bedroom door, leaning against it.
“I truly am sorry. You were absolutely right; I was putting weight on you that you shouldn’t have to bear. I felt embarrassed when you pointed it out and I reacted in a way that wasn’t fair to you. I’ve just realized how much I don’t know about soul marks, and considering there are literally millions of people who have them in my country and I’m the bloody prince…”
“Shit’s fucked. I’m aware,” Alex snorted, lowering himself onto his bed. “There are a lot of good online resources, you know?”
Henry sighed, making the phone connection crackle. “I tried that, but there’s also quite a bit of misinformation, and I really, truly knew nothing about Marks until you explained those few basic things to me that afternoon at the children’s hospital. I have no frame of reference to spot fake resources. I mean, I’m not about to take memes shared by 60-year-olds on Facebook seriously, but still….”
Silence fell over both of them. Alex took the space to think about how different his life would be if he didn’t have a mark– didn’t know anything about them. In many ways, he would be exactly the same. His mother didn’t have a Mark, but his dad did, so it’s not as though he was raised to believe soul Marks were necessary for a relationship. He was a whole functioning person with school and hobbies and friends that didn’t have anything to do with romantic relationships at all. But still, whenever he imagined himself falling in love, it was always with someone whose mark settled with his. He could imagine it– the excitement at the first signs of settling, sharing the progress with each other, having their Marks blessed at the altar. He was so intimately familiar with the whole process from watching family and friends go through it that he couldn’t begin to imagine being in the dark. He actually felt sad for Henry.
“I thought about going somewhere to do research,” Henry said, breaking the silence. “But Philip would almost certainly find out. He has already proven that he can make me pay dearly if I engage in any ‘deviant behavior’, as he likes to call it.”
Alex’s curiosity at the last sentence was dwarfed by his anger. “Okay, you know what? That’s bullshit. I’m going to put together a list for you. The most glorious resource packet the world has ever seen. You’ll be ready to get your fucking PhD in Soul Marks by the time you’re done reading. Fuck Philip.”
Henry’s laugh came through, clear and ringing. “One hopes not in a literal sense, although I appreciate the sentiment. He really is an insufferable prick most of the time. And he’s staying here while his and Martha’s permanent apartments are renovated, did I say? He’s around constantly.”
Alex grimaced at the thought, but was struck by an idea. “You know what? I think it’s time you visit your best friend in the world, for the sake of appearances.”
“Pez?” Henry responded, confusion clear.
“No, dumbass, me . Come at the end of the month! It will give you an escape from Philip, and it’s not like they can say no. We’d just be following their instructions. But bring Pez, too. It’ll be Halloween and I can introduce you to the greatest celebration of absolute chaos and debauchery known to America.” He paused. “Except Mardi Gras. And Pride. And maybe Dragon Con.”
“With an invitation like that, how could I say no?” Henry replied wryly. “I’ll talk to Shaan and see what can be arranged.”
“Okay, good. And come prepared. Costumes are not optional.”