Work Text:
"Can you imagine if we were still dating? That would be wild, right?" Alex asks, grinning. Henry fakes a laugh as he feels the fissure in his heart grow into a canyon. He'd thought they were dating, but apparently they're not. Apparently they'd gone back to being friends, nothing more, and the massive hole in his heart is just something he'll have to live with. As he lets the darkness of his broken heart swallow him, he hears his grandmother's laugh echo in his ears.
He wakes up alone, his head pounding. This isn't right. Alex should be next to him; their breakup should have been a dream. But he's not there, and Henry's lying in the middle of the bed, David curled up happily where Alex should be. He looks toward what should be Alex's end table, and there's no phone, no glasses, no charger, not even the book he's working through. There's no sign of Alex anywhere.
A sinking feeling settles firmly into Henry's stomach. He knew it was too good to be true. He'd known it couldn't last, somehow; a person like him didn't get to be in love with someone like Alex. It just wouldn't work. His grandmother has been telling him that for ages; princes don't end up with first sons. It's impossible for more reasons than he can count, and they'd been stupid to even try to make things work in such an impossible world.
But no; it had worked. They'd built a life, and just because all signs of Alex seem to have disappeared from their bedroom doesn't mean he's gone. Henry fumbles for his phone, knocking a piece of paper that likely has a half-formed midnight revelation scribbled on it to the floor. He can't wait to read it later; last time it was "Horatio 'sweet' gay etymology". His phone reveals nothing but the fact that he's running late. With a pang, he realizes that he'd relied on Alex's alarm to wake him up, but Alex is gone now. He must be. Henry climbs out of bed in a rush, but as he does, his head spins and his stomach revolts. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up, and he calls in sick from there, head resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet seat. He texts Bea their daily update from there, too; letting her know he loves her and that he's got the flu, but she shouldn't worry. She'll get it when she wakes up in a few hours. His phone buzzes after that, but he ignores it to get himself up and to the kitchen. He lets David outside and makes a cup of tea, trying not to be upset by the coffee maker that has clearly not been used this morning.
As the kettle heats, Henry tries to remember what happened between him and Alex. Something must have happened; he's clearly the only one still living in the house he'd picked for the two of them. But through the pounding in his head and the fog in his brain, he can't remember what. He just knows Alex should be here, and he's not. His favorite mug isn't out on the counter, and his contacts weren't in the bathroom, and his shoes aren't on the mat.
David is back at the door, so Henry lets him in, grabbing his tea and the emergency packet of Jaffa cakes he keeps in the cupboard. He knows he should sleep; he's decently sick and his sleep schedule has never been exactly steady. But he can't close his eyes without missing Alex. Alex's arms around him, Alex's breath on his neck, Alex's feet tangling with his under the blankets. He tries to read, but that causes the same difficulty. He can't stop expecting Alex's head on his shoulder, Alex's lips on his cheek, Alex's presence on the bed beside him, tapping his hand when he's found something interesting in his own book to share. Eventually, Henry gives up on it all and brings up Bake Off on his laptop, picking a different season from the one he's watching with Alex, and tries his best to disappear into biscuit land, David curled up beside him.
He sleeps intermittently, trying to doze between every episode and maybe getting in a solid few hours total. What he gets, though, is full of dreams of Alex. Alex packing his things and leaving. Alex calmly explaining that it isn't working. Alex leaving Henry alone with the queen, a defeated husk of himself finally ready to accept life in a tower.
Alex coming in quietly, carrying a bowl of soup and kissing Henry's forehead to wake him up.
"Hi, baby. Bea said you weren't feeling so great." Well. If this is a dream, it's one of the better ones. Alex looks like he's just gotten back from something fancy, and if Henry weren't so sick and this weren't a dream, he'd be ready to do absolutely filthy things to an Alex who looks this good.
As it is, all Henry can manage is a groan. Alex smiles, and Henry blesses his subconscious for holding onto that soft smile, the one that's so full of love Henry can barely stand it.
"Okay. I'm going to leave the soup here, and I'll be right back with a thermometer and meds, okay? I love you." He starts to go, but Henry grabs his hand. If Alex leaves, he'll wake up, and he doesn't want to go back to that world just yet. He wants to stay here, where everything is perfect.
"Don't go. I don't want this one to end."
"What do you mean, baby? I'll be right back."
"No; if... if you go, I'll wake up, and I don't want to. I know... I know I can't have this, not with who I am and have to be and all that, but I want to pretend. Just... just for a little bit longer, please? I don't want to be alone again."
"Hen, what are you talking about?"
"This is a dream, and real... real Alex is gone, and if you go then I have to wake up and go back to that, and I don't want to." He's started to cry, which is probably going to wake him up anyway, but Alex isn't leaving anymore. He's coming closer to sit on the bed and wrap Henry in his arms, holding him close as Henry finally lets the sobs start to tear him apart. "I just... I want to pretend... I want this to be real."
"Baby, this is real, I promise. Oh, Henry, baby, Love. Corazón. I would never leave you, I swear. I love you more than anything. Here; I'm... Henry, baby? Look at me?" Henry does, and he sees a few of his own tears reflected in Alex's eyes. Alex cups his face gently, wiping a few tears away with his thumb and looking at Henry with eyes so full of adoration and love that the tears threaten to come back immediately. "I'm going to pinch you, okay? If you can feel it and it hurts, you'll know this is real, and that I would never, ever leave you."
Henry nods, sniffling a bit. Alex pinches his arm, just enough to hurt, then presses a kiss to the same spot as Henry buries his face in his shoulder.
"It's okay, Sweetheart. It's okay. I'm here. I had meetings up in Albany starting early this morning, but I'm here now. I'm here. I love you; I'm sorry I ever had to leave."
"I... I had a dream we broke up, and then everything was gone..."
"But that's impossible. I kissed your forehead to chase out all the bad thoughts before I left."
Henry lets out a watery laugh, still trying to believe that all of this is real. Alex is here, holding him and promising over and over that he loves him. This is real, Alex says so. He got his fairy tale ending. When the tears fade, leaving him clinging to Alex like a tired koala, Henry says, "I'm sorry. I... after everything, it felt... I just... all of this, after my grandmother and Richards and everything? I still... it all just feels so impossible sometimes, still."
"I know, I know. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry I had to go, and I'm sorry I didn't call over lunch or anything, and I just... I'm sorry. I should have done more than a note and a text, especially knowing you were sick. I didn't want to wake you, but I... I should have done more."
"A note?"
"I left it right next to your phone. Did you not see it?"
"I... I think it fell."
"Okay. Here's what we'll do, if it's okay with you. I'm going to pick up the note, and while you read it, I'm going to get some meds, a thermometer, and my dinner. Then I'll be back, and we can watch Bake Off and cuddle while we eat. Does that sound alright?"
"But you'll get sick."
"Nonsense. You're most contagious the day or two before the fever, so I'm already contaminated. Besides, you're always telling me to rest; if I get a fever I'll have to. Then you'll have to stay home and look after me, and I won't have to share you for a whole day."
Henry laughs again, and it sounds a bit more like it should. Alex kisses his forehead, bends to pick up the letter, then kisses his forehead again as he hands it over.
"I'll be back soon; no bad thoughts while I'm gone, okay?"
"Okay." One last forehead kiss and he's gone, but Henry can hear running footsteps in the hall outside. David hops off the bed, likely needing dinner and to be let out, but Henry doesn't mind. He turns to the letter in his hands, picturing Alex writing it early that morning, glasses on and hair barely tamed. It would have been still partly dark when he left, and Henry can picture him writing it in the half-light of an early morning through the window, just as the city started to come awake.
"Baby,
Sorry I missed you this morning; I'm off early for meetings in Albany. You'd probably know what idiot made them the state capital instead of us, let's add them to our list of people to fight. I hate missing you wake up, but we both know you need your beauty sleep, so I'll have to imagine your bed head and morning breath and all the stunningly imperfect things about you that the world never gets to see. I'll pick up an early dinner on my way home, so no need to worry about that. I love you. I love your gorgeous sleeping face and your giant, beautiful heart, and I love that little smile you'll get reading this. I love how you love letters and all these sappy little things.
I love you,
Alex
PS- I just kissed away the bad dreams, but your forehead felt hot. Please take the day off if you need to; you deserve to rest for a bit. I adore you."
He looks up from the letter to see Alex in the flesh, panting slightly but with a second bowl of soup, a cup of tea, some meds, and the thermometer. He comes to take Henry's temperature, frowning slightly before handing him a pill.
"Take this; it should help. But we should call off work tomorrow; you're not fever free yet, and you'll need someone to look after you."
"But you have the state senate meetings tomorrow, too, don't you?"
"Yeah, well, state senate can wait. They can send someone else; Albany blows anyway. Like ten of the top fifteen things to do are historic houses and buildings; it can wait until I can see it with you."
Henry smiles, swallowing the pill and starting on his soup while Alex emails his boss, then emails the shelter to let them know Henry won't be in tomorrow, either. When he's done, he gets them to Bake Off. David's arrived, curling up at their feet but clearly planning to move upward as soon as they'll let him.
"Thank you. You're... the best partner I can imagine. There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with, and I adore you, and I'm so thankful that I get to date and live with and love you. I'm sorry I don't tell you enough," Henry says softly, but Alex shakes his head.
"Nonsense. The not telling me enough bit, I mean, not the rest. Except the best partner bit, because you're the best partner I can imagine. I'm sorry I don't tell you enough how much I adore you, and how wonderful you are, and how amazed by you I am everyday. I could keep going, until you get sick of me and chase me out so you can sleep, but it looks like bread week, so. What do you say we disappear into bread land for an hour?"
Henry nods, resting his head on Alex's shoulder as Mel and Sue bring them into bread week. Alex is there; he's real. His shoulder is solid, moving slightly as he eats his soup and encourages Henry to do the same. He's there, real as anything, his arm pressed against Henry's and David curled up on their tangled legs.