Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Wille, I heard you are in town. Wanna come over for a few drinks?’ His friend Pelle from his former public school had texted him.

‘Yeah, needed to get out of here anyway. I’ll be there in thirty.’

After arguing with his mother about some upcoming event he was expected to speak at, he desired nothing more than getting out of the palace. Yes, it would cause trouble, but who cares? Wille didn’t care about that right now.

The only problem with sneaking out of the Drottningholm Palace was sneaking out of the Drottningholm Palace. It would be just as hard as it sounded, but Wille had done that plenty of times in the past. But things had changed; with the growing media attention, he couldn’t just walk out of the Palaces doors. His guards would immediately deny him the exit.

Bribing or blackmailing was not an option either, the last time he had tried to do so, it had ended with a month of being grounded. In order to punish him ‘accordingly’, his parents had forced a private tutor on him, not even allowing him to leave for his then public school. It was an utter mess. Trying to come up with words of apology for the guards that had snitched his attempt to bribe.

The relationship between him and his parents had not improved since then. They send him off to Hillerska, hated him for the release of the sextape and protected August.

The only one being there for him was Erik.

He was no longer his older brothers priority.

Duties above all, then his girlfriend, his friends, his hobbies…… and somewhere down the lane was his younger brother.

Wilhelm was left alone.

The heir was to busy for the spare.

Simon dumped him.

A few drinks with his former friends were going to help.

‘Pelle, is there any chance Olle could pick me up. I’m at Drottning, can’t really sneak out here without help. Olle would know how it works…”

Mere minutes later Pelle replied: ‘He’ll be there in 15. My brother organised the good stuff, you’ll like it.’

He jumped up from his bed, looking around the dark room. A party at Pelles place with the boys: a bit more formal. Slacks and a dress shirt.

He threw the first pair of what he could find on and quickly searched for his dark wollen coat. It was cold and it would help him not get recognised.

Escaping through the official or their private entrance was impossible, a combination of hidden corridors, following through a five minute walk to the not surveillanced spot had a way better rate of success. Wilhelm believed some of his escape routs to be so unknown that only he and a handful of people know about it.

In the last year or so he had perfectioned his route to the point, it would be impossible to catch him. No need for begging or bribing.

Tiptoeing out of his room, out of the personal quarters was the hardest part.

He had managed to do so. The Queen and Duke were very obviously still awake, but did not notice him. To busy planning some event.

Hidden corridor after corridors followed, until the icy themperatures hit his face. The feeling of freedom.

He took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. In the palace, most of the time it was rather stuffy.

He ran, he hid, he tiptoed and then he ran again.

His former classmate Olle awaited him in his black limousine, likely stolen from his father. Does he even have a license?

Wilhelm did not care.

Olle and him bursted into laughter once they were on the bridge which was going to take him temporarily of the golden cage.

“It’s good to see you again Wille. You’ve … changed.”

“Maybe a little.”

The driver eyed him up and down: “not just a bit, buddy. Look at you, you are tiny and that haircut is … well it’s something,” his former classmate laughed.

Embarrassed, Wilhelm laughed along. He did not want to explain the whole story to how he was forced to adapt a “ more royal” hairstyle. His parents considered the previous one as childish and ungroomed, whereas this was was considered appropriate.

As Olle navigated the limousine through the city's streets, Wilhelm couldn't help but think about how much things had changed since he last spent time with his former public school friends. It had been a while.

The silence in the car was finally broken by Olle, who turned to Wilhelm and said, "You know, Wille, I don't care about that tape. I haven't seen it, and I don't intend to. We've known each other for a long time, and I won't let something like that change how I see you."

Wilhelm was relieved by Olle's understanding and sincerity. It was good to know that at least one of his friends didn't judge him solely based on the tabloid stories and the media circus that had surrounded him lately. "Hm thanks," Wilhelm replied. However, he wished that he had not brought up this topic. It still caused him too much pain.

As they pulled up on the crunching gravel driveway of Pelle's house, Wilhelm couldn't help but feel a mix of nostalgia and anticipation.

Even though he had attended a public school, it was in the wealthiest neighborhood, and most of his old friends had aristocratic or very wealthy backgrounds. Just a tiny contrast between his royal life and the lives of his friends had been present, mostly due to his title and his mothers importance. They were almost as wealthy, but had the privilege to mess up and not end up on the tabloids front pages.

They stepped out of the limousine and walked towards the entrance of Pelle's house. Wilhelm couldn't deny that he felt a sense of belonging here. As they entered the house, the sounds of laughter and chatter grew louder, and Wilhelm knew that he was in for a memorable night.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. The boys, his former classmates, greeted him with drunken smiles and slurred words. It was like stepping back in time, as if he had never left them.

Pelle, the host, handed him a glass of whatever he had mixed, and Wilhelm raised it for a toast. "To whatever we are using as an excuse to get high and drunk," he said in a way that only Pelle understood him.

The later one smirked.

Wilhelm finished the entire cup, not caring what Pelle had given him. If the other ones were drinking it, it must be fine.

The night seemed to blur into a haze of laughter, music, and flashing lights. Wilhelm lost track of how many drinks he had, and the world around him began to move in slow motion and fast-forward simultaneously. It was as if time itself had lost its grip, and he was caught in an endless loop of blurred moments.

The colors in the room became more intense, as if every detail was amplified. The music pounded in his ears, and he moved to the rhythm of the beat, feeling the bass reverberate through his bodyw. All the expectations, responsibilities, and judgments seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the cacophony of the party.

His former classmates, his friends, encircled him, and they all seemed to be in a similar state of drug induced euphoria. They raised their glasses and cheered, celebrating, and Wilhelm couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging he had not felt in a very long time.

Someone passed him a joint, and he took a deep breath, the smoke swirling around him. It added to the surreal atmosphere of the night, making everything even hazier. He exhaled slowly, and the laughter of his friends echoed in his ears.

As the hours passed, Wilhelm's connection with reality grew tenuous. He danced, he laughed, and he even attempted to sing along to songs he barely remembered. The world spun around him, and he felt strangely liberated, unburdened by the expectations that had weighed on him for so long.

Somewhere in the midst of the revelry, Wilhelm's thoughts turned to Simon. The memories of their time together flooded his mind. The way Simon's eyes would light up when they were together, the warmth of his touch, the feeling of being truly loved and accepted. It had been a week since Simon told him he did not want be his secret, but the pain of losing Simon still lingered.

The pain seemed to dull, and he allowed himself to let go of it, at least for the night.

The party raged on, and Wilhelm lost track of time. He moved from one conversation to another, sharing stories, laughter, and moments of camaraderie. The weight of his title, the expectations of his parents, and the complexities of his family relationships faded into the background.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in, and the intoxication began to take its toll. Wilhelm found himself in a quiet corner of Pelle's house, surrounded by cushions and dim lighting. He closed his eyes, feeling a blissful sudden sadness washing over him.

As Wilhelm lay back against the cushions, the effects of the drinks and substances he had consumed seemed to wash over him fast and very strongly. In the midst of the dimly lit corner, the walls closing in on him, he was overcome by a sudden, overwhelming realization.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt a lump in his throat. The weight of his recent breakup with Simon hit him like a ton of bricks. All the pain, the loneliness, and the heartache that he had been trying to escape from crashed down upon him in that moment. The public outing, the disappointment in his mothers, the Queens, eyes.

As the tears rolled down his cheeks, Wilhelm's shoulders shook with silent sobs. He had been running away from the pain and the pressure, seeking refuge in the haze of the night, but now, in the quiet corner of Pelle's house, he confronted his own loneliness more than ever. He was in this himself, Erik and his entire family being mostly unavailable, his ‘friends liking his status more than him as a person. Nobody fucking cared.

The absence of affection from his parents, the relentless expectations that had been placed upon him, and the isolation he felt all came crashing down on him. He had been trying to escape this reality, but it had caught up with him in the most unexpected moment.

He was never going to satisfy his family, the country, the people.

His phone rang: Erik.

Fuck.

Very bad.

It could not be worse.

Ignoring or picking up? Both bad.

Ignoring: Erik is going to worry and search for him. Maybe resulting in this pelles place being raided by säpo.

Picking up: Erik is going to notice that he is high and drunk. Definitely resulting in being grounded and scolded, likely being picked up immediately. By säpo? The chances were not against zero.

Wilhelm hesitated for a moment, his phone buzzing with Erik's call. He knew that picking up was the lesser of two evils, as ignoring the call would only escalate the situation. With a sigh, he swiped to answer the call. At least he tried. It took him several attempts to hit the acceptance button.

"Hello?" Wilhelm's voice was shaky, and he attempted to sound as sober as possible.

On the other end of the line, Erik's voice came through, filled with concern and anger. "Wilhelm, where the hell are you? We've been looking all over the Palace, and you're nowhere to be found. Are you okay?"

Wilhelm cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to get out for a while. I'm with some friends." He left out the part about being high and drunk, hoping Erik wouldn't notice.

Erik's tone softened with relief. "What did you take? Wilhelm I can hear it. I’m not stupid. We are worried sick, you can't just disappear like that, especially with all the media attention on you. Where are you?"

Wilhelm glanced around the dim corner of Pelle's house, realizing that he had no idea of the address. "Pelle. You know him. But don't worry, Erik, I'm good."

Erik wasn't convinced, and Wilhelm could sense his frustration. "You need to come home now, Wilhelm. I'll send someone to pick you up."

Wilhelm knew that he couldn't let that happen, not with the substances in his system and the state he was in. "No, Erik, I can't. I need some time. Please,"he slurred. He wondered how he was able to form a somewhat proper sentence.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Wilhelm could practically feel Erik's concern and inner conflict. Erik sighed. "Fine, I will not send someone. I’m coming myself. I’ll be there in 15. If you are not waiting outside, I will drag you outside. I will spare you the embarrassed of getting escorted out by the security detail."

"Nooo, Erik," Wilhelm replied: "I'm fine."

As the call ended, Wilhelm felt a mix of anger and guilt.

He knew he took a grand risk by running away initially, but he needed this break from the suffocating expectations and loneliness. He wiped away his tears and tried to splash water in his face, hoping to look more presentable.

He already heard Eriks voice of disappointment, felt his fathers scolding gaze and his mothers angry words.

Chapter Text

Wilhelm sat there in the dimly lit corner, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions. He knew Erik was on his way, and he braced himself for what would come next. He wanted to enjoy this night with his friends, even if it was just a brief escape from his royal duties and personal troubles. But he couldn't escape the looming dread of his brother's arrival.

Minutes passed like hours as Wilhelm anxiously awaited Erik's arrival. The party continued around him, but he felt detached, caught in a wild mixture of emotions.

Then, the front door burst open, and Erik stormed into the house. His face was a mixture of anger, concern, and frustration. The room fell silent as partygoers turned to see what the fuss was about.

"Erik!" Pelle called out, a more than a bit tipsy and definitely as high as a kite. "What’s up, man?"

Erik ignored Pelle and continued his determined search for Wilhelm. He spotted his younger brother slouched in the corner, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the partygoers around him.

"Wilhelm!" Erik shouted, his voice cutting through the room. He marched over and grabbed his brother's arm, pulling him to his feet.

Wilhelm stumbled, his balance compromised by the substances he had consumed. He tried to resist Erik's grip but quickly realized it was futile. The eyes of the partygoers were fixed on the royal siblings, and Wilhelm felt a deep sense of embarrassment.

"I told you to come home, Wilhelm," Erik scolded. "This is not how we handle our problems."

Wilhelm's response was a mixture of slurred words and incoherent apologies. He felt like a child being scolded by his older brother, the weight of their family's expectations and the country's scrutiny pressing down on him.

Erik's frustration was evident. He looked around at the partygoers and said, "I'm taking you home now. This party is over. At least for you," using his authoritarian and dominant Crown-prince-voice.

As Erik led Wilhelm towards the exit, the partygoers watched in a mix of curiosity and sympathy. Pelle approached them, now seemingly a bit more sober, and said, "Erik, I'm sorry for this. We didn't mean for it to get out of hand."

Erik acknowledged Pelle with a nod but remained focused on Wilhelm. He couldn't afford to let this situation spiral further out of control. As they stepped out into the cool night air, Erik couldn't hide his disappointment and concern.

"We'll talk about this when we get home," Erik said firmly, his protective older brother mode in full effect. But still, he could not hide his disappointment.

“Sit in the car. I’ll be there in 5.”

Wilhelm did as his older brother told him. He nodded, his face a mixture of shame and exhaustion. He had sought a night of escape but had only found a temporary reprieve from his problems. The weight of his responsibilities and the distance from his family seemed more pronounced than ever.

Erik went over to Pelle once again: “what did he drink and how much?”

“Dunno.”

It took Eriks best effort to not roll his eyes and sigh: “you know what you put in the drinks. You’ve mixed them. Remember.”

The younger one rolled his eyes: “some booze. Dunno maybe tequila, vodka, some juices, some drops. Really don’t know.”

“Thank you,” said Erik sharp voiced, understanding that Pelle either did not want to tell him what was in the drinks or, more likely, was to drunk to remember.

As they drove back to the palace in silence, Wilhelm felt the disappointment in Erik.

The night had been a chaotic mixture of escape and confrontation, and Wilhelm was left with a deep sense of uncertainty about the path ahead. Erik's stern presence was a reminder that he couldn't run from his responsibilities forever, but the party had shown him that he still longed for the freedom and camaraderie of his former life.

“That was very stupid of you, Wilhelm.”

Wilhelm.

Erik had just called him Wilhelm.

It was Wille, lillebror or gubben, but never Wilhelm. He might as well call him with his first four names and full title.

“Says mr. know-it-all perfect heir to the throne,” spat the younger one out.

“Oh now you are able to speak perfectly fine, I see.”

“Fuck you, Erik.”

“I could say the same, but apparently someone else did and you let yourself being filmed while doing so,” rang Eriks venomous voice through the car.

Erik had never said something so hurtful. His words hit like a fist to his face. He wanted to do was to cry, scream or run away.

His brother, the person he loved and trusted the most, hated him.

“That someone is your best friend. The one, the whole family is trying to protect. Why don’t they protect their own son,” Wilhelm raised his voice.

“Because it’s not true, Wilhelm. Your lies get more shameless the more you open your mouth. It is once again something you came up with in order to shame him. And they protect their son, me,” the older one almost screamed by how. Angrily, he picked up drastically in speed. The Ferrari his parents had gifted him for his eighteenth birthday answered accordingly.

“Erik, that’s not true,” whispered the younger prince.

“What you are saying is not true. This time, I will not cover up your missteps. You will talk to mother and father as per this night!” voiced a still furious Erik.

Not caring about anything he sped through the tight streets of the Stockholm suburbs.

“Erik, please be careful.”

“You are the last person to tell me how to live my life.”

Wilhelm pushed his back tighter against the seat. His drunken mind got flooded with fear and dizziness as his brother sped up. The trees blurred by, as the got closer to their destination.

What happened after was to fast to gasp on.

Chapter Text

A knock on the door. At almost 1am? It must be serious.

“Ma’am. I request entrance. We have an urgent situation going on.”

The first thing that came to her head was a terrorist attack. The last time she had been woken from her sleep, was when a horrible attack on Swedens freedom and democracy happened. She swallowed heavily, not wanting to face another tragedy.

“Permission to enter.”

Jan-Olof immediate followed her order.

The dim light enlightening his face barely, but despite that, she could immediately tell something was very wrong.

She pushed herself in an upright position.

“Jan-Olof. What has happened?”, she asked with a stern voice.

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“We have to cut the a and c pillar. Passenger side is impossible to open. Even if pulled away from the tree.”

“On it.”

“What about the Crown Prince?”

“Stable but unresponsive, I’d still like you to hurry. Stats are fine.”

“Passenger?”

“You should hurry.”

Everyone on the scene understood immediately.

They were trying to cover the scene in order to avoid the prying eyes and lense of bystanders. The road had been closed off entirely, but they could not stop residents from taking out the trash late at night, with their filming phones in their hands. It was a total, utter mess.

It was one of the most demanding calls in their careers, not just physically but also emotionally.
Not just trough the crash involving the two most high profile younger Swedes, but also because them being so young. Involvement of children was never a thing they wanted to whiteness.

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“Simon!” called Rosh out. She looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Drama Queen, what is it?” Simon laughed.

The three of them had spend almost the entire school break till this day together.

Simon's laughter was abruptly silenced when Rosh blurted out, "Simon, it's Erik and
Wilhelm. It says that they were in a crash." The color drained from Simon's face as he registered the gravity of the situation.

"No way, Rosh. Stop messing around," Simon responded, his voice trembling. He couldn't fathom that something so dreadful had happened to their friends, especially considering how close they had been throughout the school break.

Rosh was clutching his phone tightly, showing Simon the news article that had just popped up on the screen. The headline read, "Crown Prince Erik and Prince Wilhelm allegedly Involved in Serious Car Crash." The image accompanying the article showed a mangled car, twisted around a tree, covered up by firefighters and and paramedics.

The picture had been taken by quite some distance and was incredibly blurry.

Simon had seen Eriks ridiculously expensive car once at Hillerska, it was unmistakable his.

Sure there were other cars like this, Erik did not own the only one of its kind.

It could have also been somebody else.

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“What?”, a single tear rolled down her face. This could not be happening, it just could not. That was impossible. Erik had just been here, telling her that he was about to go out with friends. And Wilhelm, he was in his room. They had a minor fallout, but that was about it. Not a big deal. They were here at the palace. Not in a car, not together and definitely not in an accident.

“Im sorry, your Majesty.”

“No this cannot be true. This late, Erik is never out without security detail. Tell them to check the license plate. They will find out that it is not ours.”

Jan-Olof looked at her with sad eyes: “they did. The emergency services are trained in that matter. It has priority whenever something unusual happpens. I’m truly sorry, Ma’am, we are in the process of organising everything. I will call immediately after this conversation ends. They will update us in the matter of where they will be transferred.”

“Transferred?” questioned the Queen in worried words.

Jan-Olof had, at least till now, avoided to tell her about their condition. However, he could not hide it forever: “I’m utterly sorry. Due to lack of information, I cannot guess if Their Highnesses are injured or not. All I know is, that the first responders are working on it. They may be fine, I really don’t know.”

“I will get ready. Please tell Ludvig and come here as soon as you know more. We will go wherever they are bright immediately.

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Blue, flashing lights enlightening the darkness.

One could feel the united horror of the ones working on the scene. It felt as if the air was about to explode every second. All eyes, the helping and the prying ones were focused on the wreckage. The lump of metal was barley recognisable as the sportscar it once was.

Nobody dared to speak out what they all thought. Looking at the wreck, they wondered that it was a rescue mission, not recovery. They worked tirelessly, so it would not become one.

“How long till the roof and front is off?”

“Less than two”

The sound of metal being cut and torn filled the air as the firefighters worked tirelessly to free Wilhelm and Erik from the twisted wreck. As they managed to cut through the roof and front of the car, a glimmer of hope began to flicker in the hearts of the medical team. This could be a rescue, not a recovery.

"O2 is down to eighty-four, mask won't do it anymore," one of them said, urgency in their voice. "Heart rate is up at 140. Hurry up."

“On it doc.”

After a brief moment, the firefighters had managed to do what was being requested: “on 3. One, two, three, go.”

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Simon's heart was pounding, and his mind raced with doubt and hope. He desperately clung to the possibility that it might be someone else's car, that this wasn't about Erik and Wilhelm. He couldn't bear the thought of his friend? Ex? Lover? in such a terrible situation.

His voice trembled as he said, "It might not be them. There are other cars like Erik's, right? Maybe it's just a coincidence." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, refusing to accept the worst.

But Rosh, usually the calm and collected one of the group, had tears streaming down her face. "Simon, it's them. I just know it." Their voice quivered, matching Simon's own fear and sadness.

“Since when do you care and know about Wille?” he snapped at his friend.

Rosh sighed, she knew Wilhelm and Simon were close and she was aware, that her friend wanted to not believe what was going on.

“Oh Simme” she pulled him into a tight hug.

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As the firefighters and paramedics finally managed to cut through the mangled wreckage, a collective sigh of relief swept through the crowd. It was a slow and delicate process, but they were making progress.

The roof and front of the car were removed, and Wilhelm's body, was carefully lifted out. He was unconscious, his face pale, and his breathing shallow. The paramedics worked quickly, securing him on a stretcher.

In the midst of this chaos, Wilhelm's survival seemed like a small miracle. His condition was critical, but he was still alive.
As they rushed him to the waiting ambulance, the paramedics continued their work, monitoring his vital signs and administering necessary medical interventions. The scene was still bathed in blue flashing lights, and the urgency of the situation was palpable.

However, the rescue mission was not over, yet. They still had to rescue the Crown Prince. Due to being less injured, the priority had shifted off the heir to the younger Prince.

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Change of setting
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"Ma'am, the car is ready," Jan-Olof informed the Queen, breaking her out of the disorienting whirlwind of emotions that had taken over her since that fateful knock on the door.

The Queen immediately jumped into action, her mind racing as she walked into the corridor. There, Ludvig stood right across from her, in the doorway to his room. He looked as disheveled as she felt, his eyes red and puffy. She could tell he had been shedding tears, trying to cope with the unimaginable news.

As the Queen approached Ludvig, her face contorted with fear and sorrow, he took a step forward and pulled her into a comforting hug. His embrace was a reassuring anchor in the midst of chaos. "We'll get through this together," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Everything is going to be okay."

Ludvig pulled his wife in a warm, comforting hug.

“It’s going to be okay, Kristina, you’ll see.”

With their hearts heavy, the Queen and Ludvig walked together to the waiting car, where Jan-Olof stood, ready to drive them to Stockholm. The dark night and the long, uncertain road ahead lay before them.
As they sped through the empty streets, either cleared for them blocked by police, the Queen and Ludvig remained lost in their thoughts, praying for the well-being of their sons.

“Have you gotten any information on their well-being, Jan-Olof?”

“I’m sorry, but no, ma’am. Just that Prince Wilhelm was the first one to be evacuated and taken to the hospital. Unfortunately, I do not have any information on their well-being.”

That was not the truth. He had gotten more information, but he did not want to tell her. Other people would do so very soon. He was not a medical professional anyway, so who was he to explain to her what he had been told. It would only distress them.

From the information he had received, he got to know it was more than just serious. They may be heading in a succession crisis very soon.

He did not dare to think about that.

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Erik awoke in a haze, his senses gradually returning to him. The world was a mixture of sensations – the acrid smell of smoke, the distant sounds of sirens, the feel of pain radiating through his body. He struggled to piece together what had happened, his mind a puzzle with missing pieces.

As the fog of confusion lifted, the memories flooded back. The screech of tires, the deafening crash, the feeling of being thrown around like a ragdoll. His heart pounded in his chest as the reality of the situation hit him.

"Where's Wille? Is he okay?" Erik's voice quivered as he asked the paramedics and firefighters who surrounded him. His words shaking in fear. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to his brother.

The paramedics and firefighters exchanged somber glances, understanding the Crown Princes concern. But they couldn't bring themselves to give him the news he so desperately needed. Their focus was on ensuring his safety and wellbeing. Just with glances, they agreed to not tell him about the condition of his younger brother.

"We're here to help you," one of the paramedics said, trying to reassure him. "Prince Wilhelm has been evacuated. Right now, we need to get you out safely. May I call you Erik?"

“Yes.”

Erik's breathing was labored as he tried to process the information. The uncertainty crushed him, and he couldn't help but imagine the worst scenarios. He hope that his brother was safe and that they would soon be reunited soon. He needed to see it himself, that his younger brother was alright.

"Please, you have to tell me if he's okay," Erik begged, tears welling up in his eyes. But the paramedics and firefighters remained tight-lipped about Wilhelm's condition, focusing on their task.

The rescue operation was a pure chaos. Erik was slowly extricated from his mangled car. He winced in pain as they maneuvered him onto a stretcher. The paramedics worked quickly and efficiently, securing him in place.

As the sirens wailed in the background, the paramedics hustled Erik to the waiting ambulance, ready to transport him to the hospital. The urgency of the situation remained, and the night was still bathed in blue flashing lights.

They tried their best to cover the situation from the prying flashes of long range cameras. They knew it was borderline impossible, but they felt like they had to do so. Nobody would like to be on the front page of tabloids in their most vulnerable situations.

Chapter Text

The ambulance raced through the city, its sirens blaring, as Erik lay in the stretcher, his heart racing. Thoughts of Wilhelm's well-being consumed him as he clutched the edge of the stretcher with trembling hands.

The paramedics tried to keep him calm, their soothing words doing little to ease his anxiety. "We're almost there, Erik. The hospital is just a few minutes away," one of them said, his voice filled with a soft but sad.

Erik couldn't find comfort in their words. His mind replayed the events of the accident over and over again, each time more horrifying than the last. He couldn't shake the fear that Wilhelm might be in a worse condition than he was.

As the ambulance pulled up to the emergency room entrance, a sense of urgency enveloped the medical team. They rushed Erik into the hospital. The fluorescent lights overhead were harsh, and the hospital staff worked around him.

Erik's mind continued to race as they wheeled him into a private treatment room. He was treated by the medical staff, his injuries being assessed. But all the while, he couldn't help but ask about Wilhelm.

He was absolutely fine, why where they fussing over him? He felt absolutely no pain, he was good to go home.

"Please, you have to tell me about my brother. Is he here? Is he okay?" Erik's voice was filled with desperation as he pleaded for answers.

The doctors and nurses exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to respond. They were well aware of the severity of the situation. But it was clear that Erik's distress was growing with every passing moment.

Finally, a doctor stepped forward, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Your Highness, we are doing everything we can to find out about your brother. We'll get in touch with the team treating him for any updates on his condition. Right now, we need to focus on your injuries, is that okay?."

Erik nodded, his anxiety far from appeased. He wished there was a way to reach out to Wilhelm, to let him know that he was okay.

“Just Erik, please”

And then, he waited, trying to ignore what was going on around him.

Finally, the doctor returned with a solemn expression. "Erik, we've received an update. Your brother Wilhelm is also here in the hospital. He's in surgery, and he's stable for now. The doctors are doing everything they can for him. He is in good hands."

That statement did not relief his fear even in a tiny bit. His brother was in surgery, meaning he was so severely injured, that his body could not even recover in its own. He had caused this, this was his fault.

As the doctor's words reassured him, Erik felt a heavy weight pressing down onto his chest. He felt like the guilt was going to crush him. His eyelids grew heavier, and his tense muscles gradually relaxed. The hospital room seemed to blur and fade as Erik's exhaustion overcame his desire to stay awake.

In the dimly lit room, surrounded by the soft murmur of hospital machinery and the hushed voices of the medical staff, Erik's eyes fluttered closed.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his breathing steadied, and he let himself drift into a deep, dreamless sleep. The events of the night, the accident, and the uncertainty surrounding Wilhelm's condition temporarily faded into the background. Erik had fought to stay awake until he knew about Wille, but he knew that he was losing the battle against his own body.

As the early morning light began to filter through the curtains, he stirred, gradually waking up.

His eyelids felt heavy and he was momentarily disoriented. It took a moment for the memories of the accident and the events that followed to resurface. The pain in his body was a stark reminder of what had happened.

Erik shifted slightly on the hospital bed, wincing at the discomfort in his body. Tubes and wires were connected to various monitoring devices, and he realized that he was not alone. His parents, were sitting by his bedside, their faces etched with worry and relief.

"Morning, Erik," his father said softly, his voice filled with a mix of emotions. "How are you feeling? It’s good to see you awake."

Erik's throat was dry as he attempted to speak. "Tired," he managed to croak out. The events of the previous night had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally.

His mother reached for a glass of water and helped him take a few sips, her touch gentle and reassuring. "You gave us quite a scare, but you're going to be all right," she said, her voice filled with an unusually amount of comfort.

Erik nodded, though his thoughts immediately turned to Wilhelm. How could he forget about Wille?: "What about Wille? How is he?"

His parents exchanged a look that Erik couldn't decipher. "Wilhelm is still in surgery," his father explained. "The doctors are doing everything they can to help him. He's a strong, Erik. We have to have faith. Believe me, the best doctors are working on his case."

Erik's heart ached with concern for his younger brother. What had he done? This was his fault.

The room fell into a heavy silence as the three of them clung to the hope that Wilhelm would pull through.

As the morning sunlight continued to brighten the room, the hospital staff came in to check on Erik's condition. His injuries were not as severe as what was expected to be from a crash like this, and the medical team was cautiously optimistic about his recovery. He would need time and care to heal, but the initial prognosis was very promising.

A broken leg, bruised ribs, a concussion, other minor cuts and bruises. Nothing that would cause a long term problem. He may be a bit dizzy and light sensitive, but apart from that and having to wear a cast, everything was fine.

This was just unfair. Why Wille and not him when this was very much his fault.

The time passed slowly as they waited for any updates on Wilhelm. The hospital staff offered Erik words of encouragement and support. Messages of support and well-wishes from friends and family began to pour in, a reminder of the love and concern surrounding the royal family. His mother read out all the warm wished from other royal families around the world.

Throughout the day, Erik and his parents kept a constant vigil by his bedside. Whenever the door to his luxurious hospital room opened, the three of them tensed, hoping to get a positive update on Wilhelm.

The clock showed it to be almost quarter to eleven, and still, nobody had updated him on the youngest family members condition.

It knocked on the door once again. Moments later, minou and Jan-Olof entered.

Oh no.

They had avoided their own entourage for long enough.

Jan-Olof and Minou entered the hospital room with solemn expressions, the weight of the situation evident in their eyes. Erik's heart sank as he saw them; he knew that their arrival meant more distressing news.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses," Jan-Olof began, his voice heavy with the gravity of the situation. "We need to discuss an urgent matter. It's about the crash."

Erik's mother, Queen Kristina, looked at them, her eyes filled with exhaustion and worry. "Is there any news about Wilhelm?"

Minou, always composed and professional, replied, "We don't have any new updates about Prince Wilhelm's condition, Your Majesty. But we need to address the current situation. Some tabloids have posted graphic pictures of the crash, and the story is all over the news worldwide."

Erik's heart clenched. He couldn't believe that people would exploit such a personal and painful situation for the sake of sensationalism. He wanted to know Wilhelm's condition, but he understood the necessity of addressing the public's concerns.

Minou continued, "The world is looking at us in shock, and the speculations are spreading like wildfire. If we don't issue an official statement soon, the narrative will be shaped by rumors and speculation. It's crucial that we control the information that's being shared."

Queen Kristina, however, was resolute. "I won't release a statement until we know about Wilhelm. My priority is my sons' well-being."

Erik nodded in agreement, his anxiety for Wilhelm outweighing pretty much anything else. He couldn't bear the thought of their family's private pain being exploited in the media once again. It happened way to may times to count and mostly Wille was the one beating the brunt of the media circuses bullying.

They knew that the other reason they did not want to put out a statement was, that well, they did not know about Wilhelm. Ther was still a chance of a catastrophic outcome nobody wanted to think about.

Minou and Jan-Olof exchanged a glance, understanding the Queen's perspective but also recognizing the necessity of managing the situation. Jan-Olof spoke gently, "Your Majesty, we fully understand your concerns, and your sons' well-being is the most important thing right now. But we must consider the impact this situation is having not just nationally but internationally. The longer we wait, the more the story will spin out of our control."

Queen Kristina looked torn. Erik watched as her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the decision pressing down on her. He knew that feeling all to well.

"I understand the need to address the situation," she said finally. "But we will release a statement that is honest and compassionate. We will not confirm any details about Wilhelm's condition until we have accurate information."

Minou nodded in agreement, her respect for the Queen evident in her expression. "That's a reasonable approach, Your Majesty. We'll work on drafting a statement that displays our concern for the family's privacy."

With the decision made, Erik watched as the royal aides left the room to begin the difficult task of managing the public's perception of the accident. He understood the necessity of addressing the situation, but his heart ached for Wilhelm's well-being. The uncertainty of his brother's condition was a constant source of anxiety, and he longed for good news that seemed agonizingly slow in coming.

Chapter Text

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We bring you a breaking news update that has left the nation and the world in shock. Late yesterday evening, a tragic car crash involving members of the Swedish Royal Family occurred. While details remain limited, the accident has already made headlines around the globe, causing widespread concern and speculation."

The news anchor's somber tone was reflected in the severity of the situation. The entire world seemed to be holding its breath, awaiting any news regarding the condition of the royal family members involved in the accident.

Simon, his younger sister Sara, and his mother sat on the couch, their eyes locked on the television. The shock and disbelief were drawn on their faces as they watched the news report.

Sara, sat still, her eyes wide with concern. Yes, Wilhelm had hurt Simon’s feelings, but she never wished anything to happen to him.

Their mother spoke, her voice quivering with emotion. "I can't believe this is happening."

Simon, trying to keep a level head despite the horror he felt, took a deep breath. "We don't even know if it's confirmed that it's them. It could be a mistake, Mom."

Sara interjected with tears in her eyes. “Simon, the news is everywhere. Look at the car; it's Erik's car.”

“Many rich people own cars like that. You’ve seen it at Hillerska yourself.”

Simon's heart sank as he watched the news anchor continue reporting and repeating on the tragic accident. His mind raced, and he couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of dread that washed over him. What if… What if Wille…? No! He was not allowed to think about that. The mere thought was incomprehensible.

As they watched the news unfold, Simon's mind was filled with memories of his time spent with Wilhelm. They had shared laughter, stories, and secrets, and their bond had grown stronger.

Their first kiss.

He couldn't bear to think about what could happen to him, his Wille.

Sara wiped away her tears and turned to her older brother, her voice trembling. "Simon, what are we going to do? We can't just sit here and wait for the news."

“What else are we supposed to do? Call the Queen? I’m sure she will welcome me with open arms. I don’t even have a number of any royal representative,” Simon said ironically.

— — — — — — —
Change of setting
— — — — — — —

The hospital room was cloaked in a heavy silence. Queen Kristina, her face filled with concern, sat at her son Erik's bedside. Her eyes, puffy and red from restless night, expressed the sadness that had settled in her heart.

The heavy silence got interrupted by Jan-Olof entering the room, carrying a printed statement in his hands. His own eyes reflected the sadness that had permeated the room, and his voice was filled with emotion as he began to speak.

"Your Majesty," he said softly, "the statement addressing the public's concerns is ready. We understand the gravity of the situation, and we have crafted the statement with great consideration."

Queen Kristina met Jan-Olof's gaze, her voice, trembling with sadness, requested, "Please, Jan-Olof, read it aloud."

Jan-Olof nodded and began to read the words of the statement. "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Swedes, and concerned individuals around the world, we understand the gravity of the situation that has unfolded before us."

As Jan-Olof continued to read, the Queen's eyes remained fixed on him, her thoughts consumed by her younger son, Wilhelm. Erik clutched his mother's hand tighter.

The statement went on, "The Royal Court, would like to express our heartfelt gratitude for the outpouring of support and well-wishes that have come in from all corners of the world. Your thoughts and prayers have been a source of strength during this difficult time."

Erik nodded in somber agreement, touched by the global display of empathy and care for his family. Still, he couldn't escape the sadness that consumed him, not knowing the fate of his younger brother.

Ludvig, seated beside the Queen, was equally weighed down by the situation. The uncertainty about Wilhelm's condition left a deep sadness in his eyes.

The statement continued to emphasize the family's deep appreciation for the public's concern. "We have been moved by your care and compassion, and we want to assure you that we are united as a family, focused on the well-being of our loved ones."

The words were nicely chosen, but did absolutely not represent how Erik felt. They were nothing more than a facade, like pretty much anything they ever do or say. Shallow, hollow and glamourising the situation. He would have preferred a statement, that represents the unglamorous reality that his baby brother was fighting for his live and that all of this was his very own fault.

As Jan-Olof read on, the statement balanced acknowledging the public's concerns with the family's need for privacy. "While we deeply appreciate your concerns and support, we kindly ask for your understanding as we navigate these challenging circumstances. Out of respect for our family's privacy, we will provide additional information when it becomes available."

His heart ached for Wilhelm, and the ongoing uncertainty was a torment.

As Jan-Olof concluded the reading, the room fell into a poignant silence. Queen Kristina, Erik, and Ludvig exchanged glances laden with sadness, their unity in the face of despair reaffirmed.

The statement was perfect in the Queens opinion; it said nothing and everything at the same time.

Chapter Text

Two and a half excruciating hours had passed, each minute feeling like an eternity, as Kristina, Erik, and Ludvig waited in the warmly lit hospital room. The clock on the wall, its constant ticking growing louder, only amplified the excruciating passage of time. Their anxiety hung heavily in the air, like a cloud of uncertainty that refused to disappear.

Ludvig sat nearby, his arms crossed over his chest. His face was filled with worry, mirroring the deep concern that the Queen and Erik felt. As he sat there, worried to death about his youngest son, every tiny argument and fight he had with his son replayed in his head. Well, he had barely ever fought with Wilhelm, he had rather ignored his sons and his wife’s arguments. He should have stepped in.

Queen Kristina remained seated, her eyes focused on the door, her hands clasped tightly together in silent prayer.

The hours without an update from the medical team had taken a toll on their nerves. They were unable to endure the suffocating silence any longer, the tension in the room palpable.

Every time they heard footsteps in the corridor, they hoped someone would enter and give them the positive message they desperately needed.

After an agonizing hours, the door finally swung open, and two yet unknown doctors entered the room. Everyone began holding their breaths.

The doctor who took the lead, began talking: "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, we apologize for the delay in providing you with information about Prince Wilhelm. First and foremost, I want to emphasize that Prince Wilhelm is alive."

“Please drop the title. He prefers to be called Wille or Wilhelm.”

“Of course.”

The weight of those words, "Wilhelm is alive," hit Erik like a wave, relieving at least a small bit of anxiety that had build up over the last hours. But the doctor's voice wavered as she continued, and Erik's world seemed to spin out of control.

"In the course of the surgery, Wilhelm experienced a complication. The severity of the accident and the resulting injuries, in combination with quite some …. diverse substances …. took quite a massive strain on his body. He went into cardiac arrest..."

The rest of the doctor's words became a distant murmur to Erik. Wilhelm had gone into cardiac arrest, his heart stopping. The realization struck Erik with a yet unknown amount of intense fear. His brother, the one he had argued with just days before, was fighting for his life, and his condition remained live threatening.

Guilt and grief washed over Erik, the heavy burden of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. He had been driving the car that fateful night. He had been the one behind the wheel, making the choices that led to the crash. It was his fault. No matter how many times others had tried to absolve him of blame, the weight of responsibility bore down on him, relentless and unforgiving.

His mind had shut off, he doctor's words fading into incomprehensible noise. He was alive, but it could have easily been him lying on the operating table. He was here, still able to breathe, but Wilhelm was fighting for every single breath. The injustice of it all gnawed at his soul.

His mother's hand on his back, a gentle and comforting touch, brought him back to the present. Queen Kristina, her eyes filled with tears, offered a faint smile.

"He is going to make it, you will see," she whispered with the certainty.

Erik wanted to believe her words, but the fear that had gripped him didn't let go so easily. His mother's unwavering belief was both a source of comfort and a reminder of the uncertain road that lay ahead.

The doctors suggested that they could briefly see Wilhelm. The prospect of being near his brother, of seeing him alive, however briefly, was like a lifeline to him.

He nodded, his voice unsteady as he replied, "Yes, I want to see him."

Erik could hardly contain the anxiety he felt. His own physical injuries were a constant reminder of what he had caused, and the guilt eating him slowly alive. He was not allowed to walk, a stern order from the medical team to avoid putting any additional strain on his body. Instead, he was being pushed in a wheelchair, a decision that he found frustrating and, frankly, somewhat over the top and stupid.

As they prepared to leave the hospital room and head toward Wille's bedside, Erik's sense of helplessness grew. Kristina and Ludvig walked beside him, their expressions more concerned than he has ever seen. Erik couldn't help but think about how different things could have been. It could have been him in that hospital bed, fighting for his life.

Just as they exited the space of his, almost luxurious, hospital room, they saw the corridor being flooded with officers in black suits. The security detail, how could they forget. Not being involved in the planning of them being there, it took them by surprise to see that many of them. They almost forgot that they rarely ever could take a step without at least two of them being three steps behind them.

“The floor has been shut entirely, in order to ensure the safety of the royal family,” said the other one of the doctors.

Safety. Security detail.

What would have happened if Erik had informed them about him leaving the palaces grounds, if they had went in one of their standards SUVs, driven by a professional. It could have changed the outcome. It would have changed the outcome.

Erik did not want any to think about that; what he had caused.

A catastrophy.

As Erik was wheeled down the sterile hospital corridor, his mind raced with a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, unforgiving glow, and the rhythmic squeak of the wheelchair's wheels echoed in his ears.

He couldn't escape the overwhelming feeling that this situation was a direct consequence of his actions. He had been behind the wheel that fateful night, making reckless decisions that led to the tragic accident. Despite others trying to convince him it wasn’t his fault, the guilt remained, a heavy burden that seemed too much to bear.

The closer they got to Wille's room, the more intense the fear of what he was about to see became. They were on the cusp of confronting the unknown, the aftermath of the accident, and the harsh reality of the situation. Erik's unease mounted with every inch they drew closer to the room.

The door to Wille's room creaked open, revealing the frail figure of his younger brother lying in the hospital bed. Tubes and wires snaked around Wille, connecting him to various medical devices. The room itself was a maze of equipment, a testament to the precarious state of his brother's health. Wille lay with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a fragile, rhythmic pattern that seemed almost too delicate to sustain life. The room was filled with the soft hum of machines.

Tears welled up in Kristina's eyes as she approached her son's bedside. Wille appeared so small and frail amidst the imposing hospital bed and the machinery that surrounded him. His right arm, leg, and neck were encased in braces, and the sight of it brought a fresh hit of grief.

Queen Kristina reached her hand toward Wille, her touch gentle and tentative. She was afraid he might break apart if she applied any more pressure, but she needed to feel his presence. She carefully took his hand into hers, avoiding the maze of wires and IVs that entangled him. His hand felt cold, like ice, in her grasp.

"Oh gubben, my poor little baby," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Please, please stay strong, will you? Everything will be okay."

Her other hand moved to gently caress Wille's cheek, cautious not to disturb the breathing tube that was keeping him alive. The reality that Wille couldn't breathe on his own struck her deep in the gut, a painful truth she had to confront. While his visible skin remained nearly unmarked, save for one small bruise on his jaw, she couldn't bring herself to think about the extent of the injuries hidden beneath the layers of bandages.

Touching Wille's face brought a semblance of comfort to Queen Kristina. It reminded her of the early years when she would soothe him by stroking his cheek to calm his fears of thunderstorms or imaginary monsters under his bed. Silent tears continued to stream down her face.

Chapter Text

Simon paced nervously in his room, his anxiety spiraling out of control. The statement from the palace had offered little comfort, and his heart ached with the weight of the unknown. He was desperate for information, anything that would assure him of Wille's safety, or maybe even Erik's, but the silence was deafening.

His Phone lay on the table, a constant reminder of the messages of apologies he should have send Wille. Simon had never been so desperate to receive a message or a call. He repeatedly checked his phone, praying for any sign, any indication that everything was alright. But the screen remained ominously blank, void of any incoming calls or messages.

As he stared at his phone, he couldn't help but read between the lines of the statement released by the palace. His familiarity with their ways allowed him to decipher the unspoken words hidden beneath the carefully crafted text. There was no mention of anyone being in good health, and that absence spoke volumes.

The only conclusion he could draw was that something was terribly wrong. He knew that either Wille or Erik was not okay, and it filled him with dread.

With trembling hands, Simon tried texting Wille. He texted him again and again and again, but still, nothing. It was clear that something was amiss, but the lack of information was suffocating.

The silence in Simon's room became oppressive as he waited, each passing minute intensifying his anxiety. He needed information, a lifeline to the outside world, something to relieve the burden of not knowing. Desperation clawed at him, and he couldn't bear the uncertainty any longer.

As he glanced at his phone once more, a familiar contact name caught his eye – Felice. She was someone who had been part of Willes life since they were born. From what Simon knew, their connection was a long-standing one, stretching back to the early years of their lives. Whether they were related by blood or had simply grown so close over the years that they might as well have been, it didn't matter at this moment. What mattered was that Felice was one of the few people who could possibly help him in his time of need.

With trembling fingers, Simon typed a message to Felice. He knew that if anyone could assist him in reaching Erik, it would be her. She might hold the key to easing his fears and providing him with the information he so desperately sought.

‘Hey Felice, I hope you're doing well,’ he began, the words appearing on his screen as he tapped them out. ‘I'm sure you've heard about what happened to Wille and Erik. Since it's been all over the news, and I can't stop worrying. I would like to try to get in touch with Erik, but I don't have his number. Is there any way you could help me out? It would mean a lot to me. You are somewhat close to the royal family. Or at least you might ask August for his number.’

With a deep breath, he hit the send button, his heart pounding with anticipation. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, as Simon's gaze remained fixed on his phone. He hoped that Felice would respond swiftly and provide the lifeline he so desperately needed.

Simon knew that if anyone could find a way to reach out to Erik, it was Felice. Minutes felt like hours, and just as Simon was starting to lose hope, his phone buzzed with a message from Felice. The relief that surged through him was palpable as he eagerly opened the message.

‘Simon,’her text read, ‘I'm really worried about Wille and Erik too. I'll do everything I can to help. I don't have Erik's number either, but I'll reach out to August. I promise to keep you updated. Hang in there. I guess he has a private number of the royal secretary office.’

Chapter Text

Back in Erik’s private Hospital room, the weight of what they had just witnessed still hung heavily in the air. Erik was no longer in the wheelchair, but seated on his bed silently, not daring to say a single word. He wanted nothing more than to jump up and rush to Wille's side, but he knew that he couldn't, not yet. Wille needed a calm and stress-free environment to recover, and Erik was determined to provide that for him.

The Queen, too, was seated nearby, her thoughts consumed by the last fight she had with Wille, mere hours ago. She wished she could go back in time and give him a hug. Maybe she could have prevented him from ever leaving Drottningholm that fateful night. The reality of the accident and the extent of Wille's injuries had hit her like a tsunami. She had known that Wille was in danger, but seeing him lying in that hospital bed, connected to numerous machines, had made the situation painfully real. Her heart ached for her youngest child, and she felt helpless in the face of his suffering.

Ludvig sat with them, the weight of the situation making his wrinkles look deeper. He looked at least ten years older. He knew that this was a difficult moment for Erik and Kristina. For Erik, because he kept on blaming himself for crashing the car and for Kristina because her last interaction with Wille had been a severe fight. He should have stepped in, not ignored his youngest sons pleas for being heard, once again.

As they settled into an uneasy silence, Kristina finally broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. "I can't believe it's come to this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't believe we're here, watching our own son fight for his life. We caused this, more or less."

Ludvig placed a hand on the Queen's shoulder. "We're all here for Wille," he said in a soothing tone. "He's strong, and he's going to make it through this. We have to believe that."

Erik nodded in agreement, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "I just want to see him," he finally managed to say. "I want to be with him and let him know that we're here, waiting for him to wake up."

The Queen reached out and took Erik's hand: "We all want to see him," she said softly. "But the doctors are right. He needs time to recover, and we need to be patient. Wille is a fighter, and he's not alone in this. We will be there for him. I promise that I am meaning it, Erik."

That was just too much for him, the build up tension and anger just exploded out of him: “oh so now you care about him?”

Tensions had been simmering beneath the surface ever since Wille's accident, and as the hours turned into days in the sterile hospital room, they finally boiled over.

Erik's frustration with his mother had been building for a long time before, and now he felt that he couldn't keep it in any longer. "You never cared about Wille," he accused, his voice laced with bitterness. "All you ever did was scold him. You were never satisfied with him being himself, with his shyness. You wanted him to be something he's not, something 'princely' enough for you."

The Queen's eyes flashed with anger as she responded, her voice tight with indignation. "How dare you say that? I've always wanted what's best for Wille. I've pushed him because I know he's capable of more, and I've wanted to see him reach his full potential. He is expected to be what I want him to be. He is the spare, but until you have children, he has an important role in the royal Family."

Erik scoffed. "Spare? You planted that idea in his head that he is a spare, the second choice?? And what he is expected to be? You mean becoming a cardboard copy of what you think a prince should be. You've been nothing but a hypocrite. You've scolded him for not being outgoing and charismatic, and now suddenly, you act like you care. Like he is you little baby."

Queen Kristina's face turned crimson with anger: "I love Wille, and I've always cared about his well-being. He is my son. You have no right to question my intentions."

The argument escalated with each word, mother and son hurling accusations at one another, years of pent-up frustration and resentment pouring out. The pain of seeing Wille in his current state had become the catalyst for their explosive confrontation.

Erik, feeling emboldened, pressed on. "You pushed him too hard, and now look where he is. It's because of your relentless expectations that he ended up in that accident. If it wasn’t for your fight, we would have never been on the road."

The Queen's eyes welled up with tears. "Don’t you dare to accuse me of causing the accident. You were the one behind the steering wheel. You were the driver."

Erik shook his head, his anger unabated. "How dare you. You never accepted him for being different, for being sensitive and kind. You wanted to mold him into some version of a prince that doesn't exist."

Erik wanted to scream at her. How dare she accuse him of hurting Wille. His little brother.

In the midst of their heated exchange, Ludvig, who had been a silent observer, decided to intervene. "Enough!" he said with authority, stepping between Queen Kristina and Erik. "This is not helping anyone, especially not Wille. We need to focus on him and his recovery. There's time to resolve your differences, but now is not the moment."

The room fell into a tense silence once more, the remnants of their fight hanging in the air. In the midst of it all, the collective hope for Wille's recovery was a fragile thread that held them together, even in their moments of turmoil.

“Leave.”

“What, Erik you cannot do that.”

“Oh yes, I can. You may come back once you calmed down and stop accusing me,” the Erik used his commanding Crown Prince voice.

“How dare you to attempt to kick me out. I am the Queen, as you might have forgotten. I am the one in command, not you. Where did you get that inflated ego.”

“I am not joking, mother. You may leave. Come back once you stop screaming, you make my head hurt,” he said, now calmly.

“Erik, stop being hilarious,” the Queen said angrily.

“I’m not changing my opining. Come back once you calmed down. I cannot stand your blame game right now. You are making a fool out of yourself by suddenly being the oh so protective and caring mother right now. You only noticed what you are missing once it is almost gone. Did it really take Wille almost dying in order to get you to care for him,” the last words were almost screamed.

With that, Kristina stood up and looked at him, her jaw clenched tightly. She looked like she was trying to find words to throw against him. Eventually, she was successful: “I will come back once your tantrum is over. I am not having that discussion with you, Erik. You may be the Crown Prince, but I am your mother and your Queen. You will not speak to me like this and you will not accuse me of hurting my son. I will go and see how my little one is.”

Without thinking about it, Erik exploded and immediately regretted what he said: “big words for somebody who let their children be raised by staff. I doubt he sees you as a mother, because you are barely more than the Queen to him.”

Without turning back, Kristina walked out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Ludvig hesitated, but eventually said in a low voice: “Erik, that was not nice of you. I don’t agree with you saying such thing to your mother.”

“I am just speaking the truth I could not voice before. She only cares about him when he is hurt and you were not much more present than her. It may not have hurt me, but it sure did Wille. You would be a fool to deny that.”

“Erik”

“Don’t ‘Erik’ me.”

“You maybe said something with a tiny bit of truth, but that does not permit you to talk to her like that. Please Erik, don’t make it more difficult than it is,” his fathers voice was not demanding or controlling like his mothers one — it was soft and almost begging.

The duke spoke again: “I will go and look for her. Please excuse me.”

And then, he was alone.

Chapter Text

In the silence that followed Queen Kristina's exit, Erik sat alone in the dimly lit room. He knew he had crossed a line, allowing his anger and frustration to spill over. He felt a mixture of regret, anger, but mostly an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Ludvig, with a conflicted expression on his face, eventually spoke in a hushed tone. "Erik, that was not nice of you. I don't agree with you saying such things to your mother. She is your mother, for gods sake."

Erik looked away, not wanting to meet Ludvig's gaze: "I'm just speaking the truth that I could never voice before. She only cares about him because he's hurt, and you were not much more present than her. It may not have hurt me as much, but it sure hurt Wille. You'd be a fool to deny that."

Ludvig sighed and tried to reason with his son: "Erik, I understand your frustration, but you can't change the past. What's done is done. We need to focus on Wille's recovery now. You can’t blame us for wanting our sons to be alright. This is not about what happened in the past, we cannot change that now."

But Erik remained unyielding. "I can't stand her accusations, Ludvig. She's trying to act like she's always been this caring, protective mother, and it's frustrating. It took Wille's accident for her to show any concern. She did not care about our wellbeing before, so she’s a hypocrite for suddenly becoming a caring mother."

His father's voice took on a softer tone: "Erik, it's a difficult time for all of us. I know you're hurt, but you need to find a way to forgive and move forward. I am going to look for her."

Without a word, the Duke turned and left the room, likely to find Queen Kristina.

As Ludvig stepped out, Erik was left alone, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. He knew that he needed to find a way to reconcile with his mother, but the anger he felt was a barrier. She had never been a great parent, but she had become an even worse one over the last few years.

In the room connected to Erik’s, Kristina sat alone, her hands trembling as she wiped away a tear. She was overwhelmed by guilt and regret. The words Erik had spoken had cut deeply, revealing a truth she had been reluctant to confront.

Ludvig entered the room and found the Queen sitting on a chair, her shoulders slumped, her face etched with sorrow. He approached her slowly, a sense of empathy in his eyes as he spoke in a gentle tone.

"Kristina, Erik's words were harsh, but this is a difficult time for all of us. We're all trying to cope with the shock and worry about Wille, this ist just how he copes. We both know, that he feels incredibly guilty and he is trying to blame anyone for what happened."

Kristina nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I know, Ludvig. But Erik was right. I have been so focused on my role as Queen that I didn't spend as much time with our children as I should have. I wanted them to be prepared for their future responsibilities, and in doing so, We might have neglected them as parents."

Ludvig sat down beside her and took her hand:m"I don’t know. Maybe. We can't change the past, Kristina. But we can make an effort to be better parents moving forward. Wille needs us now, more than ever. He needs to know that we love and support him."

Kristina wiped away another tear and nodded, her guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders. "I want to be there for Wille. I want to make amends, but I don't know if he'll ever forgive me. I know that it may be partly our fault, but I cannot keep going to play this blame game. I can’t stand Eriks continuously accusing us."

Ludvig leaned in and softly kissed her forehead. "We'll take this one step at a time, Kristina. Wille is strong, and he'll appreciate your presence, believe me, he will be glad that you are here. As for Erik, he's hurting too. Yes, it is absolutely not okay that he throws accusations around like he is a toddler, but I understand him. It’s not just him who is going through a lot. It must have been horrifying to be in that crash. You read the report of the paramedics, Erik was conscious most of the time. It must have been horrifying for him, maybe even traumatising."

As Ludvig and Kristina sat in the quiet room, their conversation taking a more contemplative tone, they heard a soft knocking on the door. Both of them turned their attention to the entrance, uncertain of who might be visiting at this delicate moment.

Ludvig rose from his chair and approached the door, opening it to find Jan Olof and Minou standing in the hallway. The two palace staff members wore expressions of concern, their eyes reflecting the underlying tension that hung in the air.

"Jan Olof, Minou, what brings you here?" Ludvig inquired.

Jan Olof cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between Ludvig and Kristina. "We're sorry to interrupt, but we have some unexpected visitors. They've asked to speak with Erik and Wilhelm."

Ludvig exchanged a puzzled look with Kristina before turning his attention back to the staff members. "Unexpected visitors? Who are they?"

Jan Olof stepped aside, revealing two Swedish police officers standing in the hallway behind him. The officers, named Inspector Henriksson and Sergeant Lindström, had a solemn and official demeanor. It was clear that their presence was not a social call.

Inspector Henriksson stepped forward and spoke in a measured tone. "We're here to investigate the car accident involving Their Royal Highnesses Crown Prince Erik and Prince Wilhelm. We have some questions we need to ask, as part of our official inquiry."

Kristina and Ludvig exchanged a brief glance, concern etched in their eyes. The accident had already brought enough stress, and now, it seemed that they were about to face yet another protracted. Still, they understood the importance of cooperating with the authorities.

Ludvig nodded and gestured for the officers to enter. "Please explain to me: why are you having to question them? From what I know, there was nobody involved, apart from Erik and Wilhelm. Why are you investigating when the only injured once are the ones within the family?"

Inspector Henriksson and Sergeant Lindström followed Ludvig into the room, their presence casting a serious atmosphere over the room. Kristina couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety as they prepared to discuss the events of that fateful night with the investigators: “it is common practice. We have to find out what exactly has happened, especially because of the high profile. We have to be sure that it was not an attempt to take the Princes lives. The car is currently being checked, too. Just to be sure nobody has manipulated the brakes ore something else. That is why we would like to speak to both Princes.”

Once everyone was seated, Ludvig addressed the officers. "I'll ask Erik so he can join us for the questions. Please give us a moment. With Wilhelm it will not be possible. He is still … unconscious,” that was the nicer way to put it. They really did not want to mention how he really is.

He left the room, leaving Kristina, Jan Olof, and Minou to exchange nervous glances. They knew that the police investigation was a standard procedure, but the timing couldn't have been worse, considering Wille's critical condition.

Minutes later, Erik was informed about the police officers' presence and the need for his statements. It was with a sense of apprehension that the Crown Princes entered the room, their faces revealing the stress and weariness they had been enduring.

Ludvig located Erik in his hospital room. He looked up when Ludvig entered, his eyes filled with vulnerability and grief.

"Erik," Ludvig began softly, "I'm afraid there are some unexpected visitors here. The police are investigating the car accident."

Erik's eyes widened in shock at the news. He had been drowning in his own guilt and sorrow, but this caught him off guard. He stammered, "The police? Why do they need to investigate? It was just an accident, a terrible one, but an accident."

Ludvig sighed, taking a seat beside his son. "It's standard procedure, Erik. They need to make sure that there was no foul play involved, especially given the high-profile status."

Erik shook his head, his emotions still raw and uncontrolled. "I can't, Dad. I can't deal with this right now, not when Wille is like this."

Ludvig placed a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder. "I understand, Erik. This is a lot to handle, especially with Wille in his current condition. But we can't refuse the police. It won't take too long, and then we can focus on being here for Wille. We are not allowed to be with him now, anyway."

Erik's face contorted with a mix of frustration and despair: "Dad Please?" At this point Erik was almost crying.

Ludvig tried to comfort his eldest: "Wille is in good hands. The medical staff is taking good care of him. Maybe I'll be able to stay with him while you talk to the police, and I'll keep you updated about his condition. You won't be gone for long, I promise."

"Dad please, not now."

Ludvig gave his son a reassuring smile. "You will get through this. I’m sorry, Erik, I have no saying in this. You are a legal adult, I sadly cannot tell them to come back tomorrow."

“Whatever.”

“We can ask your doctor to ask them to make it short. Would you be okay with that?”

“Okay.”

With that, Ludvig left the room to inform the police that Erik was ready to answer their questions. As he exited the room, Erik was left alone with the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders. He knew he had to do what was necessary, but it was difficult to shake the feeling of helplessness, especially when it came to the well-being of his little brother.

The large room was flooded with sunlight, but a heavy silence hung in the air. Erik sat on one side of a simple table, a palpable unease radiating from his hunched form. On the opposite side sat the two police officers, Inspector Henriksson and Sergeant Lindström, their expressions somber and official.

The higher ranking one startet to speak: “Good evening, Your Royal Highness. I'm Inspector Henriksson, and this is Sergeant Lindström. We understand that this is a difficult time for you, and we appreciate your cooperation. Please confirm that you are aware this is getting recorded and that we got the agreement to do so. Currently, there is not an investigation going against His Royal Highness, the sole purpose of this questioning is to reconstruct what has lead to the accident.”

“I agree with being recorded. Please call me Erik. I understand the need for this, but I would appreciate it if we could keep this brief. My brother is injured, and I want to be there for him.”

“Of course, Sir. We'll do our best to be efficient. Now, can you please recount the events of the accident as you remember them?”

Erik took a deep breath and began talking: “We were driving back from the event at one of my brothers friends’ home. It was late, and Wille was tired. It was a house party I picked him up from. We had a minor argument, and I was behind the wheel. It was raining a bit. The next thing I remember is losing control of the car and the crash.”

“Can you recall anything specific that might have caused the loss of control? Were there any unusual sounds or actions before the accident?”

Erik frowned: “No, it happened so suddenly. I didn't have any warning. I couldn't regain control in time. It all happened too fast. Then, I blacked out.”

“Were there any other vehicles involved, or was it a single-car accident?”

Erik shook his head, and instantly regretted it. The concussion had taken a toll on him: “No, it was just our car. There weren't any other vehicles around. It was an empty road because of the late hour and the rain.”

“Thank you for providing that information. We'll need to inspect the car to determine if there were any mechanical failures that might have contributed to the accident. From what I know, an investigation team is currently working on it. Can you tell us if the car was in good condition, and was it properly maintained?”

“Yes, absolutely. It was regularly serviced. There weren't any known issues with it. I always make sure my cars are well-maintained. You’ve to know that my parents gifted it to me to my eighteen birthday. I loved it.”

“Good to know. We'll be looking into the car's maintenance records as well. Now, can you tell us about the road conditions at the time? You mentioned it was raining. Were there any other factors that made driving difficult?”

Erik tried to recall the evening: “The rain was not that heavy, and the road was wet. I think it was quite dark. It wasn’t like a main road. I’m not entirely sure.”

“Understood. We'll check the weather reports and road conditions for that night. One more thing, Your Royal Highness. Yes, it happened just a few minutes away from the bridge to Drottningholm. Were you and your brother wearing seatbelts at the time of the accident?”

Erik answer with a heavy sigh: “Yes, we were both wearing seatbelts. I make sure of it because safety is important to me.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Sir. We'll need to wait what the cars inspections tells us. Do you have any other information or details about the accident that you think might be relevant? Is there any chance of involvement of alcohol.”

Erik paused, but spoke up again: “No, I've told you everything I remember. The accident was a blur, and I was mostly focused on getting my brother out of the car once it stopped.”

Inspector Henriksson spoke the last words that would end the recording: “We appreciate your cooperation, Your Royal Highness. This will conclude our initial questioning. We'll be in touch if we have any further inquiries or updates on the investigation.”

As he was brought back to the hospital, Erik hoped that the investigation would swiftly conclude, allowing him to focus on his brother's recovery. At least that was what he told himself.

Ludvig had been waiting anxiously in Erik's hospital room. When Erik finally returned from the questioning, Ludvig's eyes searched for any sign of how it had gone.

"Erik," Ludvig began softly, "how did it go with the police?"

Erik laid down on the bed, his body slumped, his expression drained. He hesitated for a moment before responding, "It went as expected, Dad. They asked about the accident, and I told them what I remembered."

Ludvig noticed something amiss in Erik's response. There was an underlying tension in his son's voice. He placed a hand on Erik's shoulder and asked gently, "Is there something you're not telling me, Erik?"

Erik looked down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting. He couldn't bring himself to meet his father's gaze. He could no longer hold back the tears he was constantly fighting. He had to tell his father. After a few moments of silence, he finally admitted, "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't tell them the whole truth."

Ludvig's concern deepened. "What do you mean, Erik? You need to be honest with the police."

Erik's voice wavered as he spoke, "I was out with friends before the accident, at a party. Not a party, like just a enjoyable evening. I... I had a few drinks."

Ludvig's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He had never expected something like this from his son. "Erik, is isn’t we tell you often enough? You should know better, we could have send security detail to pick both of you up. You know the consequences of that. You put yourself and Wilhelm in massive danger."

Erik's face contorted with guilt and self-loathing. His eyes filled with tears as he confessed, "I know, Dad. I just... I thought I could handle it. I didn't want to leave my friends early, and I didn't think it would be a problem. I … I did not know I had to pick him up."

Ludvig took a deep breath, his shock turning into a deep sadness. "Erik, it's essential to make responsible choices. It's a relief that you and Wille are alive, but this ... It changes everything. You could jeopardise not only your live but also our family's reputation. Please Erik, you have to tell your mother and the advisors. What if they did a drug test a you and find out that you lied. Oh Erik, why? Wille, he is… Please Erik, they’ll me that you remembered it incorrectly."

Erik couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He broke down, sobbing into his hands. "I know, Dad. I've made a terrible mistake, and I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt Wille, and I didn't think I'd put him in danger. I didn’t want this to happen, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry."

Ludvig put his arms around his son, holding him tightly. "I understand that you didn't intend for any of this to happen. But now that it has, you need to face the consequences."

Erik continued to cry, his shoulders shaking with remorse. "I'll cooperate fully with the police, and I'll accept any consequences that come my way. I just want Wille to recover, Dad. I can't lose him."

Ludvig's voice was filled with understanding and compassion. "We'll get through this together, Erik. Your brother's recovery is our top priority, but we must also address the situation with the police and take responsibility for your actions."

Chapter Text

“He is not going to do so, Ludvig.”

Both the Duke and the Crown Prince shot up. They had not noticed the Queen entering the room. Quietly, she closed the door behin her.

“Not so loud, what if somebody hears your confession. We need to make sure to talk to the advisors first. If there is no proof of Erik drinking, why should he accuse himself. Wilhelm need him. We cannot allow him to be in custody, not right now. I admire your courage, Erik, but we are definitely not going risk you being arrested for no reason. If there is prove, we cannot change it, but if there is no prove… I am not going to allow this to happen if there s a chance of avoiding.”

Erik's head was still spinning with guilt and the weight of his actions. He had never expected this chain of events. The realization that his actions might have played a role in the accident was eating away at him.

As he looked into his mother's eyes, he saw of concern. Her words echoed in his mind. "We cannot allow him to be in custody, not right now. If there is no proof, why should he accuse himself? Wilhelm will need him."

The heaviness in Erik's chest remained, but he nodded in agreement. He couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Wilhelm, especially in his fragile state. As the doctors had said: the worst could still happen.

"I understand, Mother," Erik whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "But the guilt... it's eating me alive. I can’t take this"

He remembered the argument with his mother not to long ago. At that point, he had not remembered drinking. The realisation hit him when being questioned. She had been right, it was solely his fault. Yes, she might have been the reason Wille left the palace, but he was the one who drove even though he should not have.

Queen Kristina placed a reassuring hand on her son's shoulder. "I know, Erik, but you can’t change what happened, in custody you would feel as equally guilty. This is a difficult situation. But remember, we must also protect the stability and reputation of the monarchy. If there is no concrete evidence, there's no need to confess. The future King cannot have serious criminal charges. You would have to give up your title, privileges and positions. Everything would fall onto Wille, we would have to make him the Crown Prince. Please Erik, be mindful. I love him, but you are better suited for taking over the throne. Especially if he chooses to live in a … non traditional relationship."

Erik struggled to hold back his tears as he nodded again:"I can't believe I put Wille through this. I can't live with this lie."

“You have to. Lying is better than everything falling on Wille. We don’t even know if he…” she could not continue her sentence. It was harsh, but it was the truth. He was not out of the woods yet. The doctors had informed her, during Eriks hearing with the police, that he still was in critical condition. Everything could change within a second. He could still very much…

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the circumstances suffocating them both.

After a few moments, Queen Kristina broke the silence. "I need to call in Jan Olof. He's experienced in handling delicate situations. He may help us come up with a plan."

Erik, overwhelmed by guilt, nodded silently. He knew that his actions had brought his family into this predicament, and he could accept whatever plan they devised. But he had to. There was no going back, he had already made a not so true statement. Had he just not confessed it to his father. It may have made things so much easier.

Queen Kristina left the room momentarily and returned with Jan Olof. She explained the situation to him in hushed tones, emphasizing the need to protect both Erik and Wilhelm while maintaining the monarchy's reputation.

Jan Olof listened, his face more serious than Erik had ever seen. "Your Majesty, I understand the complexity of the situation. It's essential that we balance the truth and the welfare of the Crown Prince. Let me consult with a legal advisor, and we can create a strategy that ensures Erik not being prosecuted. We will make this work. Somehow."

"Please, Jan Olof, we trust your judgment. Please inform us as soon as you know more," Queen Kristina said.

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across Simon's room, his anxiety and restlessness grew with each passing minute. The day had stretched on endlessly, filled with uncertainty and worry. He had spent hours refreshing his phone, checking the news, and pacing back and forth in his room, unable to focus on anything else. There had been no sign of life from either Wille or Erik, and the absence of information was becoming unbearable.

Simon had been eagerly waiting for Felice's response, clinging to the hope that she might be his lifeline to Erik, someone who could provide him with insight into what had happened. The minutes felt like hours as he constantly checked his phone, every vibration, and notification raising his hopes only to be smashed again.

When Felice's message finally appeared on his screen, Simon finally felt a bit of relief.

While holding his breath, Simon read the message aloud to himself. "Simon, I'm really worried about Wille and Erik too. I'll do everything I can to help. I’ve reached out to August, as I told you. I promise to keep you updated. Hang in there. He’ll answer, I’m sure about that."

Simon was immensely grateful for Felice's willingness to assist and her offer of support. He quickly replied, "Thank you, Felice. Please, keep me posted. I'm here, waiting and hoping for any news. Still no new confirmed information from the court."

As he hit the send button, Simon's thoughts returned to the official statement from the palace, which had done little to ease his worries. The statement had been deliberately vague, emphasizing the privacy of the matter without giving any clear information about the condition of either of the Princes. It was a testament to the monarchy's attempts to maintain control over the narrative, leaving concerned citizens like Simon in the dark. Or at least trying to control the narrative. There were more speculations than he could name.

Throughout the day, Simon had also tried reaching out to some of Willes friends, but neither of them knew anything. The silence from Erik and Wille's friends was as deafening as the silence from the palace. Hell, he had reached out to everyone who knew Erik from hillerska. He almost wanted to call the hillerska. Of course they wouldn’t have given him any contacts, but still. He was desperate.

Hours passed, and Simon began to feel the exhaustion that came with waiting and not knowing. He wished he could do something more, but he felt helpless. He couldn't even imagine what Wille and Erik were going through.

With a heavy heart, Simon continued to check his phone at regular intervals, hoping for a message from Felice or any sign that would provide even a glimpse of the truth. It was difficult to focus on anything else, and he found himself lost in a sea of thoughts and concerns.

As the day passed, Simon's anxiety only increased. He couldn't help but consider the worst-case scenarios, fueling his fear and uncertainty. He thought of Wille's infectious laughter which had brightened his life in different ways. The idea of him suffering was almost unbearable.

Suddenly, Simon's phone buzzed with a new message. His heart leaped in his chest, and he rushed to check it. The message was from Felice. It read, "Simon, I've reached out to August. He gave me Eriks phone number, but told me to not give it to you. Since I do not care about that, her is his number (+46 ….). Tell him who you are and that it was me who gave you his number. I know him, I think he’ll firstly think that you are the press, but I guess you can send him proof that you are not."

Simon felt an overwhelming mix of emotions—relief, gratitude, and concern.

He immediately went on to text Erik.

Chapter Text

The sun had already set and the blinds had been pulled shut, avoiding the prying eyes of the public. They had been completely shut off the outside world. A whole corridor had been closed off, just to accommodate Erik and Wilhelm, alongside makeshift offices and a large number of security detail. It was an utter planned mess. They had requested a room to stay in, but unfortunately it was not possible.

Before they wanted to leave, they wanted to see Wilhelm one more time.

They had requested the possibility to stay in the hospital, but it was deemed unfeasible given the ongoing investigation and the potential media frenzy.

As the sun had set, and the medical staff continued their work, the Queen approached one of the attending doctors, a mix of gratitude and anxiety in her voice. "Doctor, is there any chance that we can see Wilhelm one more time tonight? It's been an incredibly challenging day for us, and we wish to be by his side. Even if it’s just for a brief moment."

The doctor, understanding the Queen's request and empathetic to the family's plight, nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. We'll make the necessary arrangements for a brief visit."

With a grateful smile, the Queen turned to Ludvig, sharing the positive news with him. Being able to see Wilhelm, even for a short while, would mean the world to him.

The doctor led them back down the dimly lit corridor to Wilhelm's room, their footsteps echoing in the quiet, sterile environment.

The second look at him was no better than the first one.

Wilhelm still lay motionless on the hospital bed, connected to a multitude of machines and monitors that provided vital information. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the machines casting an eerie light over the scene. The sight of Wilhelm's fragile state was heart-wrenching, but the family was determined to be there for him.

Erik, Ludvig, and the Kristina approached the bed. The Queen reached out and gently touched Wilhelm's hand, her voice quivering with emotion. "Wilhelm, my dear, we're here for you. You're not alone in this."

She reached her hand towards him and stroked his fingers with a soft touch, afraid that he would break apart if she touched him any bit more. She carefully took his hand into hers, avoiding to touch any of the wires or IVs. It was as cold as ice.

“Oh gubben, my poor little baby. Please, please stay strong, will you? Everything will be okay.”
A soft knock echoed through the room, and the door slowly creaked open. The Doctor entered, his presence a calm reassurance in the dimly lit space. The family turned their attention to him, their eyes filled with a mixture of hope and concern.

With a gentle and empathetic tone, the Doctor addressed the couple, "I would like to kindly request that you prepare to leave soon. It is already quite late, and we've already made an exception by allowing this visit. You are, of course, more than welcome to return at 7 am, which is three hours before our regular visiting times. I understand your desire to be close, but I must also recommend that you get some rest."

Ludvig, still deeply concerned for Wilhelm, inquired, "Is there any chance that one of us could stay here with him, even if it's just one of us in the waiting room?"

After a brief moment, he gently approached them and said, "I'm afraid the visit will have to be short, but we understand how important this is. We'll continue to monitor Prince Wilhelm's condition closely. If there are any significant developments, we'll keep you informed."

The Queen nodded with gratitude: "Thank you, Doctor. We understand."

Kristina and Ludvig reluctantly released Wilhelm's hands, and the family quietly left the room, their hearts heavy but also filled with hope. They knew the road ahead would be challenging, but they had each other, and that was a source of strength and comfort.

Ludvig, with great tenderness, moved his chair closer to hers, his hand gently covering hers. He began to ease her hand away from Wilhelm's face, their connection reminding them of the duty that loomed even on this somber day. As her and her husband’s gaze met, his expression being as sad as she felt.

With great care, Ludvig produced a handkerchief, gently wiping away the mascara that had run down Kristina's cheeks. It was a gesture that spoke not only of his love but also a subtle reminder of the responsibility they carried. Even on this, one of the darkest days of their lives, they had to maintain their composure for the public, knowing that the ever-watchful eye of the press could capture them at any moment.

Their quiet moment was disrupted by Malin's return to the room. Her voice was a reminder of the world waiting for them outside the walls of the hospital. "Everything is prepared, Your Majesty. We can leave at your convenience," she informed them before tactfully exiting, providing the royal family with the privacy they needed to say their goodbyes.

Ludvig was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with hope and reassurance. "Hang in there, buddy. We'll be back very soon." As he spoke, he briefly touched Wilhelm's uninjured leg, a gentle display of affection he usually never showed towards his son.

Kristina, her voice quivering with love and concern, added, "My little boy, you heard your father. Everything is going to be alright. You are in the best hands. We love you." She leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Wilhelm's forehead. That this tiny action felt weird scared her. When was the last time she had shown him affection? She did not remember. The only times she remembered, were ones in which she had to, in order to have him keep up that appearance. Right before having to deny his involvement in the tape…

She shook off that thought. There was no space for negativity right now.

As they stepped back into the corridor, the Queen turned to her family, her eyes brimming with tears that had been held at bay. "We must remain strong for Wilhelm, for each other. Our love and support are what he needs most now. No matter what happens, we have to face it together."

After saying their goodbyes to Wilhelm, the royal couple left the hospital room, their hearts heavy.

As they left the dimly lit corridor, they had hoped for a moment of respite, a brief escape from the world's relentless gaze. They believed that they had managed to leave the hospital without being noticed. The underground parking lot had provided them with some cover, and they were grateful for the small favor of privacy in their trying time.

However, as their car emerged from the parking lot, the harsh flash of camera lights suddenly surrounded them, blinding the family for a moment. Despite the darkened windows, the paparazzi had found them. Their peaceful exit from the hospital was shattered by the relentless photographers.

Blinded by the flashes and distressed by the intrusion, the royal family felt their privacy violated at the worst possible moment. The tabloids, eager to capitalize on the royal family's suffering once again, had swarmed around them, attempting to capture their most vulnerable moments.

Kristina, though usually composed and regal, felt an overwhelming surge of anger and frustration. Her voice trembled as she turned to Ludvig, unable to hide her emotions. "Ludvig, this is intolerable. Even during the most horrible day of our lives, we are not granted a few moment's peace. It's as if they're trying to feed off our pain. We deserve better than this."

Ludvig shared in Kristina's frustration. He knew that their every move would be scrutinized, their expressions analyzed in the unforgiving light of the cameras. "I can't believe they would stoop this low. It's inhumane."

He continued because couldn't help but voice his own outrage. "They don't care about us as people, only as a spectacle. This is beyond disrespectful. They're making a circus out of our suffering."

Their collective anger and distress reached a boiling point, their emotions raw and exposed. The car continued to move through the sea of flashing cameras, the photographers relentless in their pursuit of the perfect shot.

Inside the car, the royals sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension and frustration they felt were palpable, but they were determined not to provide the paparazzi with the dramatic images they so desperately sought. They knew that maintaining their composure and dignity was the only way to counter the tabloids' attempts to exploit their suffering.

Kristina sat with her back straight, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. She could feel the anger and helplessness welling up inside her, but she refused to let it show. Ludvig, sitting right beside her had his jaw clenched. He stole a glance at Kristina, silently reassuring her that they would get through this.

As the car sped away from the hospital, the camera flashes grew more distant, but the tension inside the vehicle remained. It was a quiet rebellion, a refusal to give in to the paparazzi's tactics, and a display of their resilience.

"Stay calm, Kristina," Ludvig finally broke the silence, his voice a steady anchor for his family. "We will not let them see us break. It’s what they want. We simply cannot give them what they want. They would destroy us with everything we give them out of the ordinary."

Kristina nodded, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped her control. "You're right, Ludvig. We must stay strong. For Wilhelm, for our family, and for ourselves."

The car continued its journey, leaving the paparazzi behind.

Chapter Text

5:36. That was what the clock was showing. Not her usual time to get up, but the situation had not given her any rest. Now, she decided that she had enough of the twisting and turning in the perfectly ironed sheets. Time to get up. In few hours she needed to be at the hospital anyway. The entire restless night had been spend checking if she had received any messages from the hospital.

She turned away from the clock, its unyielding numbers a stark reminder of the reality that awaited her outside the cocoon of her royal bedroom. With a determined sigh, Kristina decided that she could no longer endure the endless twisting and turning beneath those sheets. .

Slipping out from the bed, she felt the cool touch of the marble floor beneath her bare feet. The dim light filtering through the curtains painted the room in a muted glow.

As she stood before the ornate mirror, the reflection staring back at her was a stark contrast to the composed queen the public knew. Dark circles framed her eyes, evidence of a sleepless night spent anxiously waiting for an update from the hospital, while also not wanting to receive one.

She opened the wardrobe, choosing one of the ensembles that which had been curated and picked in advance. The black attire hanging in front of her was tempting, it represented how she felt, but black was reserved for public mourning or other somber events. Wearing black right now would send the wrong signals, it would show the public the hopelessness she tried to push away. It could be mistaken for her mourning one of her sons lives. And that will not happen, she told herself, Wilhelm will eventually recover. He has to recover. There was nothing to mourn, yet. She choose a dark blue ensemble instead of a black one.

The muted tones of the palace guards greeted her as she walked, a nod of respect for the monarch in the early hours. Kristina nodded back. Not once in her life she had felt even the slightest bit of discomfort around staff, but right now, their presence felt invasive.

In her study, a space usually reserved for matters of state. The large desk, covered in documents caught her attention. The piles upon piles of documents reminded her once again, that she was falling behind work. As much as she usually avoided falling behind, she did not have the energy do work on these documents. She knew she would loose focus almost as soon as she opened them.

As Kristina sat down, her thoughts drifted off the work.

As she glanced around the room, her eyes fell upon the framed photograph displayed prominently on her desk. She knew exactly when and where it had been taken, she used to be so incredibly proud of the perfectly curated image. However, the image depicted only Erik, her firstborn, the heir to the throne. There was no photograph of Wilhelm beside it. He did not even have the finest mention of his existence on her desk. Had her favouritism really been so bad?

Her fingers traced the edges of a framed photograph on the desk – a picture of Erik. Erik. Only Erik. Not of her husband, and not her Wille. Just Erik.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as a wave of self-reproach washed over her. In the hallowed silence of the room, Kristina confronted the stark reality that she had inadvertently favored Erik over Wilhelm. It was a truth she could no longer ignore, a painful acknowledgment that hurt almost as bad as her thoughts of what had happened in the last days.

With trembling hands, she reached for the photograph, the glass cool against her fingertips. The image of Erik, smiling and confident, stared back at her. She couldn't escape the weight of the truth – that she had shown favoritism, unintentionally pushing Wilhelm to the shadows.

The guilt, a relentless companion, settled heavily upon her shoulders. Kristina's eyes welled with tears as she grappled with the consequences of her actions. Wilhelm, the son who had faced his own struggles, had carried the burden of being the second choice, the one overshadowed by his elder brother. She had reminded him more than often, that he was not enough. Not smart enough, not pretty enough, not even enough royal. Memories of her yelling at her youngest for not having the perfect royal smile or not acting as she wished resurfaced. The worst thing being, that these memories were recent, but also several years old.

The queen's heart ached with the realization that her actions, had left indelible emotional scars on Wilhelm. The echoes of his struggles reverberated in her mind – the desperate need for affirmation, the longing for a mother's unwavering support, and the constant battle to hide for the public.

She hated herself in that moment, despising the choices she had made that wounded her own son. The photograph became a painful reminder of her failure, a testament of her unintentionally not loving one of her sons as much as the other. Before, she had always prided herself with not having a favourite child.

The silence of the room seemed to amplify the emotions within Kristina. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she grappled with the reality of her actions. She had been blind to the impact of her choices, blissfully ignorant of the scars she had unintentionally inflicted on Wilhelm.

The clock on the wall ticked away, each second moving her closer to the moment when she would confront the reality of Wilhelm's condition. There was no script for a queen in such moments, no protocol to follow when faced with the vulnerability of a loved one.

With a deep breath, Kristina rose from her seat. As she made her way towards the waiting car, the Queen in dark blue did not move with her usual regal grace, but rather slightly hunched over.

Ludvig waited for her just beside the car. With a respectful nodding he greeted her. He was just another of the various arrangements in her life. Yes, she liked him, but if it was for her, she would have married somebody else. Ludvig was nice. That was about it. They were good friends. He was the only one who her parents agreed to marry and she could imagine spending the rest of her life with. He was nice, never tried to take attention away from her, was aristocratic and had exceptional heritage. Sweden could not have gotten a better Prince consort. Ludvig was kind, charming, a good listener and well likeable. He was broadly liked and brought stability into the monarchy. He was the perfect fit. That was what she and her parents had told herself ever since meeting for the first time, up to the day the succession was insured. The day Erik was born. Wilhelm had, in her parents opinion just been the spare, that ensured the longevity. He was there as a support, the one smiling in the background. There in case something catastrophic happens. Like what happened yesterday. They had implanted that idea in her mind so much, that she had begun telling it to …

“Kristina, darling, are you alright?” He husband put his and on her shoulder.

With a tight lip smile, she answered: “I am. Thank you for your concern.”

“Very well”

The cars door was being held open for both of them. They sat down, the door got closed and they were on the road to the hospital.

The car drove through the predawn streets of Stockholm, carrying them towards the hospital. The city, usually awakening with the sunrise, was still veiled in darkness.

Ludvig sat beside Kristina, the air within the car thick with unspoken tension. Minou and Jan-Olof, the trusted members of the royal staff, occupied the seats across from them. The weight of the impending hospital visit hung in the air, each occupant lost in their own thoughts.

Minutes passed in silence, the hum of the car's engine the only audible sound. Kristina stared out of the tinted windows, the city lights flickering like distant stars. Ludvig cast a concerned glance her way, recognizing the sadness on her face.

Jan-Olof cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, we've received the test results that were taken upon arrival of Crown Prince Erik the hospital. I thought it would be best to inform you before we reach there."

Kristina's heart skipped a beat at Jan-Olof's words, her mind immediately leaping to the worst-case scenario. Panic clawed at her, and she braced herself for the impending news.

After a heavy swallow, Jan-Olof continued, his gaze focused on Kristina. "There's a matter of significance that needs your attention."

She remained poised, her eyes locked onto Jan-Olof's face. "What is it?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turbulent emotions within her.

Minou reached over and gently placed a reassuring hand on Kristina's. "Nothing too serious, Your Majesty. It's not as dire as you might fear."

The Queen nodded, her grip on the armrest of the seat tightening.

Jan-Olof's expression was somber as he delivered the news. "When Prince Erik was admitted, the hospital conducted a routine blood test. The results indicate that he had alcohol in his system upon arrival. Not just below the law maximum for driving, but a significant amount. He can be very luck that it is barely under the limit which could lead to a jail sentence."

Kristina's eyes widened in shock, her mind struggling to comprehend the fact, that her drunk son had caused the accident, that put her other son into a coma. Her drunk son. Ludvig's brows furrowed in concern as he absorbed the information. That was what she hopped would not happen. All she hoped was that Erik had not been tested upon arrival, or even better, had not drunken enough to be considered drunk.

Minou spoke with a calm demeanor, trying to alleviate the growing tension in the car. "Your Majesty, it may raise questions, especially in the public eye. He might be prosecuted, but may also not. He will loose his license and there will be a quite massive fine which will have to be paid on a daily basis. We can just hope that the police will not request his medical record. We are attempting to … lower the level of alcohol measured. Just a bit lower and he would barely be considered to have been under the influence. We are hoping to make it look like he just drank one or two beer. Of course only if her Majesty agrees."

A surge of conflicting emotions flooded Kristina. The shock of Erik's apparent intoxication hit her hard. The realization that her son might face public scrutiny for driving under the influence unsettled her deeply.

Jan-Olof responded . "The Crown Prince having to face a trial would be horrible for his reputation, especially because he is broadly seen as a role model to many. He is the ideal Swede, this ultimately damages his very well build reputation. We may reverse it one day, but it will definitely take a toll on his and our reputation. The only way we can compensate that is with Prince Wilhelm. He should be the forgiving, loving brother. It would be great if we show unity for him and the family. And Erik could show him regretting his decision by working with charities against alcoholism and driving under the influence."

Ludvig, sensing Kristina's distress, placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. "We'll handle this together, Kristina. The most important thing now is the well-being of our sons. We'll face whatever comes our way."

Jan-Olof looked at her like he wanted to continue, but he hesitated.

“What is it, Jan-Olof.”

The weight of the previous night's events lingered heavily in the car as Jan-Olof cautiously continued. "Your Majesty, there's more to the test results. Wilhelm's blood showed a significant amount of alcohol and substances, far more than Erik. The doctors are concerned; it might have lead to complications and could still pose risks."

A shocked silence settled within the confines of the car. Ludvig's expression mirrored Kristina's disbelief, both had heard the doctors saying something about him having substances in his blood, but they had not told them, that it was that serious.

Jan-Olof's explanation unfurled like a dark tapestry. "The doctors believe the combination of life-threatening injuries and the presence of alcohol and medications may have contributed to Wilhelm's cardiac arrest yesterday during surgery. He's currently stable, but the situation is, just like yesterday, still incredibly delicate."

A heaviness descended upon Kristina. The realization that the choices made in the past, the favoritism, likely made up a huge chunk of Wilhelm's present struggle hit her with brutal clarity.

Ludvig's hand remained on Kristina's shoulder, a grounding presence in the face of turmoil. The car continued its journey through the awakening city.

Minou's voice broke the silence, "Your Majesty, we are coordinating with the hospital staff to manage the situation discreetly. The public mustn't be aware of the details. We're doing our best to navigate this delicate matter and ensure the well-being of both Princes."

The car moved through the predawn streets towards the hospital, a silent procession of worry and responsibility. Kristina stared out of the window, her mind a tempest of emotions. The dawn's light, now touching the city with a gentle glow, seemed incongruent with the storm raging within.

The car came to a stop, and as the doors opened, the Royal family stepped into the building their sons were staying at.

Chapter Text

The hospital room, well lit in the sterile glow of artificial light, seemed to close in around Kristina as she entered. Her eyes, weary from a night, met Erik's gaze. The eldest Prince, propped up in the hospital bed, wore an expression that betrayed a mix of weariness and uncertainty.

"Good morning, Erik. How are you feeling?" Kristina's voice, though steady. She tried to hide her anger, which stepp he was trying to suppress.

Erik acknowledged her with a nod, his response measured. "Morning. I'm okay."

Kristina moved closer to Erik's bedside.

"I've been so worried," Kristina admitted, attempting to sound softer as she usually did: "You know, darling, when you were admitted, they took a blood test on you and Wille. It’s common practice and well… now there is proof of you being intoxicated. It’s just below the limit that may result in jail time, but still. We are working on lowering it. You know how efficient Jan-Olof can be. Even though it being leaked to the public would not land you in jail, but it would take a toll on the image of you. And we would have to pay a massive fine." Her words faltered, the weight of her emotions momentarily silencing her. She left out the part about him actually being severely intoxicated that night. It would only make Erik feel way worse.

"I’m sorry. I really fucked up,” Erik covered his face with his hands. He had messed up. Massively. If it was just him wrecking his car…

He should have driven with security detail, like he was supposed to.

But no, he had chosen to be stupid.

"I want you to know, Erik, that I'm here for you. No matter what happened, we'll face it together," Kristina affirmed.

Erik nodded: "I messed up, Mom. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Kristina's eyes softened. She knew that he was right and that he, in fact, had messed up, but she did not want to risk Erik getting even more sad right now. As much as she wanted to tell him how foolish his actions were, she avoided doing so: "We all make mistakes, Erik. What's important now is how we move forward. We will get through this. We and the court support you."

Erik responded: "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Kristina nodded in response to Erik: "That good. Now, is there anything you need, Erik? Maybe you want a friend to come over. Or something else,” she tried to cheer him a bit up.

Erik hesitated, then looked towards the small table beside his bed. "My phone. I need my phone."

"Of course, Erik. I'll ask for it," Kristina replied, squeezing his hand before leaving the room. Ludvig, stayed with Erik.

Kristina walked down the hallway, her mind caught in thoughts and concerns. She approached the nurse's station, where a nurse greeted her with a respectful nod.

"Is there any chance I can receive Prince Erik's and Wilhelm’s personal belongings, especially his phone, he asked for it. Can you arrange that?" Kristina inquired, her tone carrying a regal authority.

The nurse, nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. We'll gather his belongings right away."

As Kristina waited, she glanced down the corridor towards Wilhelm's room. Two guards stood watch, a visible reminder of the critical situation her younger son was facing.

Minutes later, a hospital staff member approached with two bags containing Erik's and Wilhelm’s personal belongings. The absence of clothing struck Kristina, a chilling reminder of the accident's severity. There were no clothes, because they likely had to be cut off or were ruined in the crash. She pushed aside the unsettling thoughts and, with a nod of gratitude, took the bags.

Returning to Erik's room, she handed him his bag: “Here you go, Erik. Your personal belongings,” she handed him his bag, while placing the one with Wilhelm’s personal belongings on the desk.

Erik looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Thanks, Mother."

The first thing Erik pulled out was his watch. He loved this watch. It was a present he had received upon graduating from hillerska.

"We're going to check on Wilhelm now. Ludvig and I will be back soon," Kristina informed him, her gaze lingering on her son.

Erik nodded, now very focused on his phone. "Take your time, Mom. I’ll be here."

With a reassuring touch on Erik's shoulder, Kristina and Ludvig left the room.

“Did you also notice it, Ludvig?”

“Notice what, darling?”

“He is different.”

“He is injured. And he may be prosecuted.”

She suppressed rolling her eyes: “I am aware of that. No, that was not what I meant. What I mean is, that he barley asked about Wille. Why did he not want to know if he is alright or if anything has changed? Yesterday, all he wanted was to see him. Today he seemes to be … distant. He asked for his phone, Ludvig. He did not ask us to come with us.”

The heavy door to Wilhelm's room opened with a soft creak, revealing a space where the sterile hospital atmosphere seemed even more pronounced. Machines hummed softly, monitoring Wilhelm's vital signs as he lay unconscious, a silent figure in the midst of the clinical environment.

Kristina's gaze shifted from the machines to Wilhelm's motionless form. She approached the bed with Ludvig by her side, a shared concern etched on their faces. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Kristina as she looked down at her younger son.

"He's still unconscious," Ludvig noted, his voice carrying a somber tone.

Kristina nodded, her eyes fixed on Wilhelm's face. "Yes. We need to give him time. The doctors are doing everything they can."

The room fell into a contemplative silence as Ludvig and Kristina absorbed the sight before them. Wilhelm's features, now unusually motionless, made Kristina see him in a different light. It was as if she was truly looking at him, taking in every detail of his face. Every freckle, every hair.

"He looks like his grandparents," Kristina mused, her voice barely above a whisper. Ludvig glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes.

"Whose grandparents?"

"Our parents. Especially like my father and your mother. I see a strong resemblance. It's strange; I've never noticed it this vividly before," Kristina admitted, her gaze lingering on Wilhelm's face.

Ludvig nodded, understanding the depth of her observation. "Sometimes, in moments like these, we see things with a different perspective. Perhaps it's the worry and the reflection on what matters most to us."

Kristina sighed, torn between the concern for Wilhelm and the lingering confusion regarding Erik's behavior. "I can't help but wonder why Erik didn't ask to come in or inquire about Wilhelm. Yesterday, all he wanted was to see him. Today, he was so distant, more focused on his phone."

Ludvig studied her for a moment before responding. "He's processing a lot, Kristina. His own injuries, the potential legal consequences, and the weight of everything that happened last night. It might be difficult for him to confront it all at once. Maybe he should see Boris again. It would help him to process his feeling."

"I understand that, Ludvig, but Wille is his brother. I expected him to be more concerned, more present in this moment. And yes, maybe we should contact him," Kristina confessed, her worry etched on her face.

Ludvig placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "People cope in different ways. Give him time. Right now, let's be here for Wilhelm. Erik will find his way to deal with this, too. We’ve to remember that he is an adult. He is no longer our little Erik."

Kristina nodded, appreciating Ludvig's opinion. They remained in Wilhelm's room, offering silent support to each other and, in their own ways, to their unconscious son in the bed.

As Kristina gazed at Wilhelm, she couldn't escape the nagging sense of confusion regarding Erik's actions. The distance he seemed to keep, the focus on his phone—it all felt unlike the Erik she knew. She shook off the troubling thoughts, redirecting her attention to Wilhelm.

The door to the room opened, and a nurse entered, checking on Wilhelm's condition. She exchanged a few words with Kristina and Ludvig, providing updates on the medical aspects. Kristina listened attentively, her thoughts still partially occupied by the Erik's unusual behavior.

After the nurse left, Ludvig suggested, "Maybe we should talk to Erik about Wille. Help him process everything. He might need a nudge to open up."

Kristina nodded, realizing the importance of addressing the emotional turmoil Erik was likely experiencing. "You're right, Ludvig."

As they exited Wilhelm's room, the door closed behind them, leaving the unconscious prince to the hum of the machines. Ludvig and Kristina retraced their steps down the corridor, the sterile hospital surroundings mirroring the uncertainties that surrounded the royal family.

When they entered Erik's room, they found him still engrossed in his phone.

Chapter Text

Finally, they left. Their fussing over him was the single most annoying thing on the planet. All he wanted to be was left alone.

The night had been horrible for Erik. He had barley slept. His head had hurt the entire night and the thoughts about Wilhelm had been to much to bear.

His phone was the perfect escapism.

As soon as he had been handed his belongings, he had began scrolling.

The hospital room's silence enveloped Erik as he began reading the sea of messages on his phone. There were hundreds, if not thousands of messages. The notifications flooded in like a relentless tide, a mix of genuine concern and the prying curiosity of those who tried be befriend him, solely to get to know all the insights of the family. Erik had successfully kept them at a good distance for most of his childhood, but them having his phone number through mutual friends was sadly unavoidable.

His fingers scrolled mechanically, eyes moving over messages from friends, former Hillerska classmates, colleagues from the military, and even unknown numbers. The weight of each well-wishing note and inquiry about Wilhelm bore down on him. It was a reminder of the public spectacle their lives had always been.

As he navigated through the myriad of messages, one stood out – a text from his second cousin August. The message asked about Erik and Wilhelm, expressing concern over the horrific appearance of the car wreck.

Erik just couldn't summon the strength to reply. Instead, he swiped away the message, allowing it to join the stream of others in his unread inbox. Pictures of the wreck? He had to see those himself. He knew it was just a piece of crushed metal, but he had to see it. He opened up a tabloid app he had subscribed to for the sake of indulging in the gossip about himself and the royal family. Reading gossip about himself with his friends had become an often used game when drinking. Most of them were just too hilarious to not laught about them. Countless lies and speculations.

With a few taps, he entered the world of sensational headlines and speculative stories. The tabloid's digital pages unfolded before him, revealing articles filled with half-truths, sensationalism, and the occasional a tiny bit of reality. It was a bizarre of fiction and half truths, a distorted reflection of his own life.

Erik found himself reading several articles dissecting the events of the almost fatal night. The details, spun with dramatic flair, depicted the accident as a spectacle of royal misfortune. The words on the screen seemed to echo the chaos that had unfolded on the darkened road.

The pictures of his car looked horrifying.

An utter wreck was a grand underestimation. It did no longer look like a car, just like a block of metal. The car he had loved so much, destroyed beyond repair. Yes, it was stupid to just think about it, but still, he loved that car. Thinking about it offered superficial distraction he desperately needed.

He kept scrolling through the the pictures and headlines.

Erik's eyes narrowed at the screen as he scrolled through the tabloid's coverage of the accident. The headlines screamed sensationalism, and the images, though blurred and pixelated, showed an undeniable image. He felt a surge of anger, a fiery response to the invasion of his and Wilhelm's most vulnerable moments.

"What the hell..." Erik muttered, swiping through the pictures with growing frustration. The photos were taken in the chaotic aftermath of the accident, the scene illuminated by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles.

The first image showed a blurred figure on a gurney, surrounded by paramedics. It took a moment for Erik to register that the figure was Wilhelm. His younger brother, unconscious and vulnerable, laid out for the world to see in the name of sensational news.

A cold anger settled over Erik as he zoomed in on the image. The gurney, the paramedics, and the outline of Wilhelm's still form—everything captured in horrible quality that only intensified the nightmarish quality of the scene.

"What the…," Erik seethed, his jaw clenching. The tabloid had crossed a line, exploiting a moment of crisis for public consumption. He felt a visceral reaction to the invasion of his family's privacy, the sextape of Wilhelm had somehow felt way less intrusive than these images.

His thumb and forefinger pinched the screen, zooming in further to scrutinize the details. The hospital staff worked tirelessly around Wilhelm, their faces indistinct blurs in the low-resolution photograph. The pictures almost felt dehumanising, it was as if they were mere cockroaches which are being watched under a magnifying glass. They were a pure spectacle, nothing more than the cardboard personas the pr tea, had created.

As Erik examined the images, he couldn't shake the feeling of powerlessness. The tabloid had seized control of the narrative, turning a personal tragedy into a spectacle for the world to consume. The anger within him made his blood boil, fueled by a sense of betrayal and violation.

"They shouldn't have taken these pictures, that’s a step to far," Erik muttered to himself, his voice edged with frustration. He continued to scroll through the gallery, each image revealing more fragments of that fateful night. He recognized the twisted wreckage of the car, the flashing lights of the rescue vehicles, and the chaotic scene that had unfolded around them.

The public eye had scrutinized their every move, turning a personal crisis into a media circus. It was a violation of the unspoken agreement that even royals deserved a semblance of privacy in their most vulnerable moments.

Erik's hand clenched into a fist, a physical manifestation of the anger coursing through him. He wanted to reach through the screen and erase those images, to shield his brother from the prying eyes of the world. The realization that he couldn't undo what had been done fueled the flames of his frustration.

"They don't care about the people in these pictures. We are just a story to them," Erik muttered to himself again, his gaze fixed on the screen. The blurred images, each a distorted reflection of reality, told a narrative that belonged to the tabloid, not to the individuals caught in the web of their scrutiny.

He left the tabloids and went back to the messages. He wanted to work himself through them.

Erik's fingers moved over the screen as he returned to his messages, about to work through the flood of well-wishing notes. The genuine concern of his friends and trusted acquaintances provided a brief respite from the invasive media coverage.

He decided to respond to August. Despite the circumstances, Erik appreciated the genuine concern in August's message. His reply was brief yet sincere, assuring August that he and Wilhelm were alive and dealing with the aftermath of the accident. There was no need for him to know the harrowing details of Wilhelm's condition.

As Erik continued scrolling through the messages, he noticed familiar names—longtime friends who had befriended him for years. With each response, he carefully curated the information he shared. Wilhelm's condition was mentioned sparingly, reserved for those he truly trusted. He was afraid, that information may be leaked. From what he had discovered on the internet, there had not been any significant leaks from people working around them or hospital staff.

Then, an unfamiliar number caught his eye. Suspicion flickered in Erik's eyes as he hesitated before opening the message. The sender's identity remained concealed, triggering alarms within him born out of years of invasive reporters and fake friends.

The message was short and to the point: "Hello Erik, I hope I may call you Erik. Wille usually tells people not to use his title, so I’ll just do the same. I don’t know if Wille told you about me, but I am Simon. The one from the tape. I am incredibly concerned about Wille. He did not answer to any of my messages. I got your number from Felice, who got it from August. I hope you don’t mind me texting you. Please just let me know if Wille is alive. I cannot keep going in uncertainty. Thank you, Simon Eriksson."

Erik's brow furrowed as he analyzed the words. He couldn't dismiss the possibility of it being a member of the press, attempting to pry into the details of their private ordeal. He was definitely going to get this message checks by his parents and their team. If it was true, should they answer him? Erik understood the pain Wilhelm’s — Friend? felt.

The door creaked open, interrupting the isolation of the hospital room. Kristina and Ludvig returned, their faces carrying a mix of concern and determination. Erik looked up from his phone, the glow of the screen casting a pallor on his features.

Chapter Text

Erik's eyes flickered up from the screen as his mother and Ludvig entered the room, their expressions reflecting a blend of worry and resolution. Kristina's gaze fixed on her son, a mix of concern and something akin to disappointment surfacing in her eyes.

"Erik," Kristina's voice held a gentle yet firm tone, "We understand this has been a lot to process. But your brother is fighting for his life right now. He needs us. Us meaning you being included."

Erik's fingers hovered over the screen, the glow casting a pall over his face.

Ludvig spoke next, his voice soft but direct. "Erik, we know you're going through a lot. But turning to your phone won't make this situation any easier. I know that you want to escape reality, but that will not improve the current situation."

Erik's jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and guilt building up within him. He wanted an escape, a distraction from the overwhelming reality, yet he knew deep down that Ludvig and his mother were right.

"I-I just needed... a moment," Erik's voice wavered slightly, his gaze shifting back to the screen. "I can't fix this mess. I can't change what happened to Wille. I don't know what to do. It is my fault. I …"

Kristina stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to touch Erik's shoulder but stopping mid-air. "None of us can change what's already happened, Erik. But we can be here for each other. For Wilhelm."

Erik's grip on the phone tightened, he really did not want to have that talk right now, but he still answered: "I don't know how to be there for him, Mom. What if... what if he doesn't wake up? What if..."

Tears welled up in Erik's eyes, a mixture of fear and helplessness gripping his heart. He had never felt this powerless, this utterly lost before.

Ludvig stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Erik's shoulder. "Erik, being there doesn't mean having all the answers. It means just being present. For Wilhelm, for your family. We're all scared."

"I'm scared," Erik's voice was barely a whisper, choked with emotion. "I don't want to lose him. I don't want any of this. I caused this, I just can’t… I can’t…"

Kristina's heart ached at her son's pain. She stepped closer, her hand finally finding its place on Erik's shoulder.

"You're not alone in this, Erik," Kristina assured him, her voice steady despite the tremor of emotions. "We'll face this together. Whatever happens, we'll be here for each other."

Erik's grip on the phone loosened, the screen fading to black as he finally looked up, his eyes meeting his mother's gaze. In that moment, amidst the sterile hospital surroundings, titles and roles faded away, leaving behind only the bond between a mother and her son.

“What about Simon. You know, the one from the tape?” Erik’s still shaking voice said.

“Simon? Why would you think about him right now. Come on, Erik, we’ve got no time for this,” Kristina could not believe that what Erik thought about right now was the boy Wilhelm had something? going on with. He could have went to see his younger brother with them, but instead, he had chosen to think about that boy.

“I don’t know. I read the text I’ve gotten from people. Most ones were from close friend, but there was one i did not know of whom. It was signed off with being from Simon and it felt kind of … personal? He write that he got my number from Felice, which is plausible. You know Felice, Wille Kindergarden friend. I’d like to get it checked by the security services.”

“Oh why so, Erik. Come on, our top priority needs to be Wilhelm and only him. We can take care of this somewhen later. One Wille and you are okay, he will find out through the media, Erik,” Kristian said calmly.

Erik's gaze fell to his lap, uncertainty lingering in his eyes as he grappled with his mother's dismissal of the matter concerning Simon. He understood Kristina's urgency regarding Wilhelm's condition, yet there was an unsettling pull in his mind, a persistent worry about Simon's concern for Wilhelm.

"But Mom, what if Simon's message is important? What if he knows something about Wille that we don't? And I know that they were close. You saw how he was in the last few days. Mother, I think it was more between them that just … temporary pleasures." Erik's voice cracked, torn between the pressing concern for his brother and the nagging feeling that he couldn't overlook.

Kristina sighed, her brows furrowing slightly. "Erik, we can't afford to get sidetracked. Our focus right now is on Wilhelm's well-being. Simon's message can wait. We need to concentrate on being here for your brother. We can get that message checked, but I cannot promise you anything."

Erik nodded reluctantly, a mixture of frustration and lingering worry etched on his face. His fingers tapped nervously on the blank screen of his phone, the uncertainty about Simon's message gnawing at him.

Ludvig interjected: "Erik, your mother is right. We have to prioritize Wilhelm. Simon's message can be addressed later. Right now, let's focus on what's in front of us."

Erik swallowed hard, understanding the weight of the situation. "Okay, but just for now. I still want you to look into it. I know Wille might like him to at least know about him."

Kristina placed a reassuring hand on Erik's shoulder, her eyes conveying a mix of understanding and firmness: "Erik," Kristina's voice was soft but firm, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. "We'll have someone check the message. But right now, we need to focus on Wilhelm. He needs all of us."

Erik nodded, a mixture of guilt and concern weighing heavily on him. "I know, Mom. I just... I'm worried about Wille and... and what Simon might know."

Kristina placed a hand on Erik's arm.

The atmosphere inside Erik's room was tense as Queen Kristina, Ludvig, and Erik heard the sudden flurry of activity echoing through the corridor. Sensing urgency in the commotion, the Queen stood up, about investigate the source of the bustle.

She walked to the door and opened it. Peaking through it, down the corridor, she felt like somebody hit her right in the face.

Erik's eyes widened with alarm, his concern evident as he watched his mother's body language tensed up. "Mom, what's happening?"

She did not want to turn around, she did not want to face Erik.

"Stay here, Erik," Kristina's voice quivered as she spoke, closing the door to Eriks room. Her eyes still fixated on the scene unfolding down the corridor.

She stepped outside and closed the door, trying to avoid Erik from hearing the scene unfolding. It felt like they had just made great progress with Eriks mental state, just for it to be destroyed again in a few minutes.

What she saw, stabbed her into her heart.

The Queen's heart pounded in her chest, as she witnessed the medical team swarm into Wilhelm's room. Each hurried step of the doctors and nurses echoed her growing sense of dread. She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to process the sudden turn of events.

Ludvig emerged from Erik's room, his brows furrowed with concern as he glanced at Kristina. "What's happening, Kristina?"

She didn't answer right away, her gaze still fixed down the corridor, her mind reeling with a myriad of thoughts. The fear of losing another son gripped her fiercely, the weight of it almost suffocating. Kristina turned to Ludvig, her voice trembling slightly, "I... I don't know yet. They're in Wilhelm's room. Something doesn't feel right. They rushed on there. Ludvig, something is not right."

Erik's anxious voice seeped through the door, "Mom? What's going on? Is Wille okay?"

Kristina took a deep breath, gathering her composure before turning back to Erik's door. She hesitated, torn between protecting him from the distressing scene and facing the difficult reality. "Erik, stay in there for a moment, please."

She glanced back down the corridor, her heart heavy with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. The sight of medical professionals rushing in and out of Wilhelm's room painted a haunting picture, one she wished to erase. But she knew she couldn't shield Erik from the truth forever, especially in such dire circumstances.

Ludvig placed a comforting hand on Kristina's shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "Should we go check on Wilhelm, Kristina?"

She hesitated. She did not want him to suffer. She could not see him suffer anymore, this was just too much. But there was no way of escaping, she had to be there for him.

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yes"

They walked briskly down the corridor, their hearts pounding. As they approached Wilhelm's room, the commotion intensified, voices muffled by the closed door. Kristina's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the door, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open.

The scene inside was chaotic, doctors and nurses hovered around Wilhelm's bed, urgently attending to him. The heart monitor beeped rapidly, the sound drilling into Kristina's ears. The atmosphere was tense, an air of urgency suffusing the room.

Kristina's breath caught in her throat, her eyes fixed on Wilhelm's motionless figure on the hospital bed. Tubes and wires surrounded him, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant self. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears that threatened to flow freely even more. Ludvig stood by her side.

The doctors were in deep conversation, their voices hushed yet urgent. Kristina tried to make sense of their words, a gnawing anxiety twisting in her gut. They exchanged concerned glances, trying to decipher the severity of the situation from the professionals' actions.

"Is he okay?" Kristina's voice was barely audible, her throat constricted with worry.

One of the doctors turned towards her, his expression grave. "We're doing everything we can, Your Majesty."

Chapter Text

These words hit Kristina like a sledgehammer. Her son's life hung in the balance once again. She felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, unable to intervene or change the course of events unfolding before her eyes. She hated that feeling, as she was used to being able to control everything.

She knew that what the doctor said was an euphemism, trying to not tell what was actually happening.

Ludvig placed a supportive hand on Kristina's back: "We're here, Kristina. We'll get through this."

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, each passing second feeling like an eternity, praying silently for Wilhelm's recovery. But the uncertainty of the situation loomed ominously, casting a dark shadow over their hearts.

The medical team continued their efforts. The beeping of the heart monitor remained erratic, a constant reminder of Wilhelm's serious condition.

Kristina's thoughts raced back to getting informed about the accident. She wished she could turn back time, undo the events that led to this nightmare. Her mind wandered to Erik, still waiting in his room, unaware of the severity of the situation. She struggled with the dilemma of when and how to tell him, knowing it would devastate him.

As she stood a few meters close to Wilhelms bed, watching the doctors activity around him, Kristina wrestled with conflicting emotions - fear, guilt, and a desperate plea for a miracle. Her heart ached for her son, for the pain he was enduring, and the uncertainty ahead.

The minutes dragged on, each passing moment an agonizing reminder of their helplessness. Kristina's eyes were fixed on Wilhelm, her silent prayers becoming turning more and more into begging.

Ludvig squeezed her hand gently.

Amidst the tense atmosphere in Wilhelm's room, a nurse, clad in a crisp white scrubs, looked up from charts she was working on. She observed Queen Kristina and Ludvig standing by Wilhelm's bedside. With a gentle yet firm voice, said:

"Excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highness," the nurse addressed them respectfully. "I understand your concern, but for now, it might be best if you wait in the waiting room. The doctors need space to continue their work."

Kristina exchanged a worried glance with Ludvig before nodding in understanding. As much as she did not want to leave, she did definitely not want to hinder the medical staff. With a heavy heart, she reluctantly stepped away from her son's bedside, Ludvig following her.

The nurse led them out of the room. As they exited, the door closed with a soft click, sealing them away from the flurry of activity inside.

Silence engulfed them in the corridor as they made their way towards the waiting room. Kristina's heart felt heavy with worry, her thoughts consumed by Wilhelm's well-being. Ludvig walked beside her.

The nurse's words echoed in Kristina's mind. They had to trust the medical team, give them the space and time to tend to Wilhelm. But waiting once again felt excruciating, it felt worse than waiting for news as they got to know about the accident.

As they reached the waiting room, the fear began to settle in. Kristina and Ludvig took their seats, the tension palpable in the air.

Kristina's mind raced with thoughts of Wilhelm, her worry intensifying with every passing minute. She glanced at Ludvig, his face mirroring her concerns.

Time seemed to crawl as they sat in the waiting room, a sense of helplessness settling in. The minutes felt like hours, each one dragging on with agonizing slowness.

As Kristina and Ludvig sat in the waiting room, the silence around them was almost suffocating.The distant hum of the hospital's activities provided a haunting backdrop to their anxious thoughts.

Kristina clasped her hands together, her knuckles turning white as worry continued to gnaw at her.

She glanced at Ludvig, finding a flicker of concern mirrored in his eyes. Their shared worry was a silent conversation, expressing more than words ever could. They both knew they had to remain strong for Wilhelm, yet the endless waiting was an unbearable trial of patience. Neither of them was very patient, they were too used to everything happening instantly upon request.

Minutes stretched into hours wait, the ticking clock on the wall becoming a rhythmic reminder of the passing time. Kristina's mind oscillated between hope and despair, each moment amplifying her longing for any news - even if it was grave, at least it would provide a sense of closure.

Ludvig, the one thriving with composure, appeared restless. His fingers drummed nervously on the armrest of the chair, his stoic facade beginning to crack under the strain of the unknown.

The Queen turned her gaze towards the hallway, her eyes fixed on the closed door that led to Wilhelm's room. She wanted to rush in, demand answers, but she understood the gravity of the situation - the medical team needed the space to work, to save her son.

The nurse who had escorted them to the waiting room hurried by occasionally, her sympathetic glances acknowledging their silent anguish. Each time she passed, Kristina's heart skipped a beat, hoping for some semblance of an update. But the nurse's unreadable expression left her feeling even more anxious.

As the minutes dragged on, Kristina's mind wandered back to Erik. He was still in his room, unaware of the abrupt change in Wilhelm's condition. She struggled with the dilemma of whether to inform him or wait until they had concrete news. Shielding Erik from potential devastating news seemed imperative, yet the weight of keeping him in the dark about his brother's worsening state weighed heavily on her conscience.

Ludvig placed a comforting hand on Kristina's shoulder, a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil. His gesture spoke volumes, offering her the much-needed support and strength to endure the agonizing wait.

The Queen, however, found herself increasingly unable to contain her worry. Her thoughts drifted to the accident, the events leading up to this harrowing moment. She grappled with guilt, wishing fervently for a chance to undo the irreversible past.

The sterile walls of the waiting room seemed to close in on them, amplifying the tension and uncertainty. Kristina's breath caught in her throat at every footstep in the corridor, hoping for news that never came.

As time passed, the once-diminished hope dwindled, leaving a void of despair. The absence of information became an oppressive weight on their shoulders, the dread of what it might signify becoming increasingly unbearable.

The nurse, noticing their prolonged wait, approached them tentatively. "I'm sorry for the delay in updates. The doctors are still assessing Wilhelm's condition. They are about to perform another MRI scan. Just to be sure how to act next."

Kristina's patience wore thin, her desperation seeping into her voice. "Please, is there any news at all? We've been waiting here for what feels like an eternity."

The nurse's sympathetic gaze conveyed more than words ever could. "I understand. I'll check again for you."

Ludvig nodded in appreciation, his voice a mere whisper. "Thank you."

As the nurse left, the weight of the unknown settled heavier upon them. Kristina felt a surge of emotions - frustration, fear, and an overwhelming desire for Wilhelm's recovery. The wait stretched on, seemingly interminable, as they clung to the faintest glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating uncertainty.

“Erik!” Kristina called out.

“What?”

Kristina had suddenly remembered Erik waiting in his room, unaware of the recent developments concerning Wilhelm. A pang of guilt shot through her heart. How could they have forgotten to update him about his brother's condition?

"Ludvig, we forgot about Erik," Kristina exclaimed, a mix of regret and concern evident in her voice.

Ludvig's eyes widened in realization. "You're right. We need to let him know what's happening."

They hurriedly made their way back towards Erik's room, a sense of urgency propelling their steps. The once-familiar corridors seemed longer and more daunting, each step laden with the weight of their oversight.

As they approached Erik's room, Kristina hesitated before opening the door. She felt a knot form in her stomach, knowing the distressing news she was about to impart to her oldest son.

Erik, seated on the edge of the bed, looked up as his mother and Ludvig entered the room. His eyes held a mix of curiosity and concern, sensing the gravity of the situation.

"Mom? Dad? What's going on?" Erik's voice trembled with worry as he observed their somber expressions.

Kristina's heart ached at Erik's innocence, knowing that the news she was about to share would shatter his peace. "Erik, darling," she began, her voice filled with compassion, "there have been some complications with Wilhelm's condition."

Erik's brow furrowed in confusion. "Complications? What do you mean?" His voice shook with apprehension, the unease evident in his eyes.

Ludvig stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder. "His physical condition has become a bit more challenging. The doctors are doing everything they can, but they need more time to assess."

Erik's shoulders slumped in disappointment and worry. "But why didn't you tell me earlier? I waited."

Kristina sighed, the weight of her neglect weighing heavily on her conscience. "We're so sorry, Erik. It was an oversight. We should have updated you sooner."

Erik nodded, trying to hold back his emotions. "Come on, tell me, what do you mean with challenging? I’m not stupid, I know it was bad before. Tell the truth, you can’t fool me."

Kristina exchanged a glance with Ludvig. "Erik, please."

“No. You are not going to start like this, again. I’m not stupid and I am not a child. Tell me, what has happened.”

Kristina felt tears forming in her eyes. “We don’t know, Erik.”

Chapter Text

Erik lay in bed, his mind caught up in what had happened, tossing and turning amidst the haunting waves of guilt and remorse.

He had tried to close his eyes, to shut out the memories and get some rest, but they clung to him like an unshakable shadow. The accident played on a loop in his mind, the screeching brakes and the deafening crash echoing louder with each passing moment. His brother, Wille, remained a vivid image etched in his memory, a constant reminder of the events that had shattered their lives.

He drifted in and out of not very restful sleep, only to be woken up by the slightest sound a few seconds later. This continued for several hours, but eventually the exhaustion caught up with him. His eyes fell shut one last time and finally, he was asleep.

The road stretched before him, a canvas of asphalt bathed in the ominous glow of flickering streetlights. Erik's hands clutched the steering wheel with a vice-like grip, his knuckles turned white with tension. Wille sat beside him, a worried expression etched upon his face, fear filling from his eyes.

"Erik, slow down," his little brothers voice pleaded.

But Erik's foot pressed harder on the accelerator, the speed indicator surprised the legal limit by a lot. The rush of adrenaline blurred his vision, the thrill of recklessness overtaking his better judgment. Reality seemed to warp and bend, the world around him dissolving into blurred landscapes passing by. He could not break, bis foot pressed down onto the accelerator even harder.

The ominous screech of brakes tore through the air, a chilling prelude to the impending disaster. Panic surged within Erik as he fought desperately to regain control, but it was a futile effort. The car drifted off course, hurtling uncontrollably towards a looming collision with a thick tree.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the inevitability of the impact loomed ahead. The terror in Wille's eyes mirrored Erik's own dread as they hurtled towards the tree. The deafening sound of metal crushing against unyielding wood reverberated through Erik's bones as the car came to a sudden, jarring halt.

And then... darkness.

Panicking he turned his head to the side … Willes side.

Erik's panicked gaze turned towards his brother's side. He could barely make out Wille's silhouette in the dim, flickering light of the dream. His younger brother remained slumped against the passenger seat, his features partially obscured in the darkness.

As Erik's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Wille's chest rise and fall, his breathing seemed to shallow. Horror washed over him. The sight of Wille barley breathing, horrified him even more.

In the surreal landscape of his nightmare, Erik struggled to comprehend the mix of emotions flooding his senses. His heart raced with a blend of worry and horror, that left him feeling both terrified and comforted.

With cautious movements, Erik leaned closer, his trembling hand reaching out to touch Wille's shoulder. The faint light accentuated the lines of worry on Wille's brow, a testament to the stress that the last seconds before the accident had imposed on his unconscious form.

His entire face was covered in red crimson. Barley leaving a spot that was not covered entirely.

"Wille?" Erik's voice quivered, hesitant to disturb the slumbering figure.

In this state, Erik found himself barley being able to breath, fear was suffocating him. He watched as the scene shifted, the car, terrifyingly close to the tree. He could not move, his legs ere pinned, the shattered windshield almost touched his face.

Wille sat beside him, being in the same, pinned, state.

No, not the same, but worse.

His side had hit the tree, not Eriks. He was not pinned, he was crushed.

"It’s your fault," Wille's voice carried an terrifying calmness, a tone that echoed through his mind.

Erik's gaze darted around, the peaceful landscape soothing his frayed nerves. "Where are we?"

"The place you murdered me, Erik," Wille replied with a serene smile. "The place your recklessness had consequences."

“That’s not true.”

Wilhelm smirked: “it is, just look at me. Look what you’ve done to me.” His little brothers usually beautiful brown eyes were tinted in red colour. His dark blonde, now crimson red hair sticked to his face, “mom can’t get you out of this, this time. All the time she covered up your wrongdoings, but now that is impossible. Now, you’ve shown everyone your true colours. A drunk driver. The oh so perfect crown prince messed up, but this time badly. Look what you’ve done to me, right after you promised me to protect me at all time. You are a murder, my blood will forever stick on your hands”

"Wille, I'm so sorry..." Erik's voice faltered, the words catching in his throat.

Wille's gaze hardened: "You being sorry will not bring me back. You’ve killed me. Now deal with the consequences."

Erik felt the knots of guilt slowly tightening. Tears began to build up. He whispered, close to breaking down: "Wille, I'm scared. I'm scared of losing you," Erik confessed, his vulnerability laid bare.

Wille's slightly evil smile remained unwavering. This was not how Wille smiled, this facial expression was wrong and twisted: "You'll get through this, together with your parents. Your family never accepted and loved me, anyway. Soon, after my funeral, I’ll just be a fading memory. A small distraction on family portraits. Maybe they can overpaint me, replace me with ornaments or the dog you always wanted to have. If you excuse me now…"

His younger brother closed his red eyes, his chest stopped moving.

“Wille no,” Erik screamed, tears falling freely, “no,” he whispered one more time.

The impact reverberated through Erik's being, jolting him awake in a cold sweat. His heart hammered against his chest, the echoes of the nightmare lingering in his mind. He lay in bed, gasping for breath, the memory of the accident haunting him like a relentless phantom.

The room felt suffocating, the darkness pressing in on him like a heavy shroud. He reached for his phone, his hands trembling as he scrolled through the messages, seeking a distraction from the tormenting images in his mind. But the device offered no comfort, the aggressive white glow hurting his eyes in the darkness of the room.

Erik's thoughts spiraled into what he had just seen. He couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility, the weight of the accident crushing his soul. His mind raced with what-ifs and regrets, each scenario painting a vivid picture of the catastrophic consequences of his actions.

Wille's face flashed before his eyes, a haunting reminder of the innocent brother he had endangered. The sense of protectiveness, the bond they shared, it all felt shattered by his impulsive decisions that day. The guilt gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of the harm he had caused.

He buried his face in his hands, the tears streaming down his cheeks. The weight of his emotions was unbearable.

Erik's thoughts drifted to the hospital, to Wille lying in the sterile room, fighting for his life. The images were hauntingly vivid, the machines beeping in a dissonant rhythm, a constant reminder of his brother's fragile state.

He longed to undo the irreversible, to turn back time and act differently, call his security detail or let his brother stay at the party. But the past remained unalterable, a relentless specter that haunted his every waking moment and invaded his dreams with its unrelenting torment.

The night dragged on, a ceaseless cycle of guilt and remorse that clung to him like a heavy cloak. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, the darkness of the night haunting him.

Chapter Text

What he had dreamt, could not be true, could it?

He was just processing the happenings of the day. Wasn’t he?

Yesterday, his nightmare had almost became reality. If he just thought back closely, he could hear the doctors voice again, telling them that there had been a rupture of internal Stiches, and that his brother had required another emergency surgery.

In the end, the surgery had been successful and they managed to save his brothers life once again, but it has been a very close call, once again. The details and severity of his brothers injuries had been explained to him once again, but Erik had not listened. He just could not, it hurt too much.

Erik, overwhelmed by his haunting dreams and consumed by guilt, finally decided he couldn't spend another moment in the grip of his nightmares. With a determined breath, he reached out for the bedside bell and gently pressed it. A nurse soon appeared, her warm smile offering a sense of comfort in the dimly lit room.

"Your Royal Highness, how may I help you?" she asked kindly.

Erik's voice was faint, betraying the weight that burdened him. "Could you take me to my brother's room, please?"

With a slight bit of hesitation, the nurse nodded. "I guess I am allowed to make an exception for the Crown Prince."

Guided by the soft light of the corridor, Erik walked beside the nurse, grateful for the quiet and reassuring presence. He had been given crutches in the late noon of yesterday. Finally, they had given him a bit of his freedom back. They even discussed releasing him, soon.

He was happy about that, but felt horrible about Wilhelm still being in a life threatening situation when he was allowed to just walk out the door, barely any scratches on him. It just felt wrong.

As they approached Wille's room, Erik's heart raced with anticipation and worry. He steeled himself, trying to push away the haunting images from his dream, focusing instead on the simple hope of seeing his brother and finding solace in his presence.

The nurse gently opened the door, allowing Erik to step inside. Soft light bathed the room, casting a peaceful aura over the space. Wille lay still, surrounded by the rhythmic hum of medical equipment, his form tranquil in slumber.

Approaching cautiously, Erik pulled a chair close to his brother's bedside. He reached out and took Wille's hand in his own, it was as cold as ice.
In the quiet serenity of his brother's hospital room, Erik sat beside Wille's bed, his emotions a tangled web of remorse, fear, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on his chest.

The rhythmic hum of the medical equipment provided a haunting soundtrack to his thoughts. He gazed at Wille, his brother's peaceful slumber masking the battle he fought for his life. A single tear trickled down Erik's cheek, unchecked and unbidden.

He gently grasped Wille's hand. Memories flooded his mind—their shared laughter, Wille's infectious smile, and the moments they had cherished. But they had fought as well. The fight in the night of the accident wing one of them and it had not even been the worst. He knew, that he was a shitty brother for pushing his younger brother away as his friends and service had increasingly become his priority. A shuddering breath escaped him as the memories countered with the reality of his actions.

"Sorry," Erik whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. He felt the weight of every syllable, the immense burden of guilt echoed in that simple word. His chest tightened with the weight of unspoken regrets and unfulfilled promises.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you. Please forgive me, please, please…” begging, he head his brothers bandaged had in his. Begging quietly for forgiveness.

Erik couldn't hold back the flood of tears any longer. Soft sobs escaped from his trembling lips, his shoulders shaking with each heartfelt cry. He leaned closer to Wille, seeking solace in his brother's presence, silently pleading for forgiveness.

The tears fell freely. He felt as if his heart was laid bare beside his brother's bed, the overwhelming sense of remorse carving a path through his soul.

“My god, what have I done.”

In the midst of his tears, Erik vowed silently, promising to do everything in his power to make things right, to be there for Wille, to stand by him and support him, no matter the outcome.

The room remained still, the only sound that of Erik's quiet sobs and the soft beeping and hissing of the medical equipment. His tears gradually subsided, leaving him with a lingering ache in his heart—a longing for forgiveness and a hope for a chance to make amends.

With a deep breath, Erik wiped away his tears, his gaze fixed on Wille's serene face. He held onto his brother's hand a little tighter. Hanging onto it, like it was his life support.

The door to Wille's hospital room creaked open, and the kind, young nurse entered, her gentle presence breaking the silence that enveloped the room. She smiled warmly at Erik, her eyes carrying a sense of empathy and understanding.

"I’m sorry, Your Highness," she greeted softly, her voice carrying a soothing tone. “I just need to refill this."

She pointed at a cabinet across the room.

Erik, startled by her sudden appearance, quickly wiped away the traces of tears from his cheeks and straightened his posture, trying to compose himself and put on his Crown Prince facade. He managed a faint smile, attempting to mask the turmoil within him. "I'm… I'm okay, thank you," he replied, his voice slightly shaky despite his efforts to sound steady.

The nurse, perceptive to Erik's attempt to conceal his emotions, approached him with a comforting gesture. "Your Highness, it's alright. You don't have to keep up appearances around me," she said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "I understand that this is a difficult time for you. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, to cry, and to show your emotions. You're here for your brother, and that's what matters most."

Erik's facade began to crack under her understanding gaze. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that he didn't have to hide his vulnerability in her presence. "I'm sorry, Erm, Erik is alright, no need for titles," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment for being caught in a vulnerable moment.

The nurse approached Wille's bedside, adjusting the medical equipment with a practiced ease, her movements graceful and comforting. "No need to apologize," she reassured him, casting a compassionate glance his way. "Caring for a loved one in such circumstances can be overwhelming. It's natural to feel a whole bunch of different emotions."

Erik nodded, grateful for her understanding. He felt a sense of comfort in her presence, a reassurance that he didn't have to bear the weight of his emotions alone. He glanced at Wille, silently conveying his concern and affection for his brother.

The young nurse, sensing Erik's unease and confusion amidst the array of medical equipment surrounding Wille's bed, decided to offer him a comforting gesture. She noticed the apprehension in Erik's eyes and the uncertainty in his posture. With a gentle smile, she approached him, wanting to alleviate his fears and help him understand the unfamiliar machines that filled the room.

"Would, would you like me to explain the machines and their functions to you?" she offered kindly, her voice soft and reassuring. "I understand this can be overwhelming. Knowing what these machines do might help ease some of your worries a bit."

Erik, grateful for her considerate gesture, nodded hesitantly. "Yes, please," he replied, his voice laden with a mix of apprehension and gratitude.

The nurse pulled up a chair beside Erik, positioning herself in a way that allowed her to point out each machine and its purpose. With a calming tone, she began to explain, pointing to the heart monitor that displayed Wille's heartbeat in rhythmic waves.

"This machine here," she gestured, "monitors your brother's heart rate and rhythm. It helps us keep track of how his heart is functioning and ensures we can address any changes promptly."

Erik listened attentively, his anxiety gradually subsiding as the nurse demystified the purpose of each of the numerous device.

"And this one is delivering the necessary fluids and medicines your brother needs directly into his bloodstream. It's an essential part of his care, providing what his body needs to heal and ease the pain."

The nurse took her time, explaining each machine in a clear and simple manner, making sure Erik understood their significance. She could see the tension easing from his shoulders as she shed light on the unfamiliar medical apparatus that had previously seemed daunting.

Erik began to feel a sense of relief as the nurse's explanations made the medical environment less intimidating. He appreciated her patience and the effort she put into helping him comprehend the mechanisms keeping Wille stable.

“And the braces? Why are there not casts?”

She smiled sadly: “oh, at this point cast’s don’t make much sense. I am not sure, but believe that some bones still will have to be fixed with plates. I believe that it is still too risky to perform surgery on non life threatening injuries. The braces are easier to remove in case the doctors need to continue with further treatment of fractures.”

With each explanation, Erik's confidence grew. He realized that even though the circumstances were challenging, understanding the equipment around Wille's bed gave him a sense of understanding to his brother's care.

As the nurse concluded her explanations, Erik felt a sense of gratitude. He glanced at Wille, a mix of emotions flooding his heart—love, concern, and a determination to be there for his brother in any way he could.

"Thank you," Erik expressed, his voice filled with gratitude. "It’s good to know what all of this is for."

The nurse smiled warmly, pleased to see Erik feeling more at ease. "I'm glad I could help. It's completely normal to feel overwhelmed in this situation. If you have any more questions or if there's anything else I can explain, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Erik said again, this time with more assurance in his voice. "I feel much better now. Your help means a lot."

The nurse smiled, her compassion evident in her eyes. "You're welcome, Erik."

Chapter Text

”We have just entered the third day of silence from royal. As we have been waiting over three days, we still have not gotten any response or updates from the royal court. The Princes' involvement in the car accident has been confirmed, and the car has been identified to belong to His Royal Highness Crown Prince Erik. We are sure about both Princes being involved, and the continuous silence is getting louder with every hour.”

The news anchors exchanged somber looks, their expressions mirroring the growing concern among the public regarding the prolonged silence from the royal family.

"I mean, at this point, we are just wondering what is true and what is false," the second news reporter reiterated, her voice tinged with frustration. "The sheer amount of speculation has never been seen before in any instance I can remember."

The first news anchor nodded in agreement, her brow furrowed with worry. "It's true. The lack of information is fueling all sorts of rumors. People are anxious for any update, any confirmation of what really happened that night."

At that moment, a third figure, a royal expert, joined the conversation on-screen. Dressed in a suit, his demeanor exuded a sense of authority.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. It's indeed a concerning situation," the royal expert began, his voice carrying a measured tone. "The prolonged silence from the royal family amidst such an accident has triggered a vacuum of information, leading to rampant speculation among the public. I mean, what else is the public supposed to do. The royal family is the most famous family in Sweden. Their entire life has been in front of lenses. The sudden lack of the most basic knowledge had to end in a situation like this. "

The first news anchor turned towards the expert, eager for insights. "What do you think might be the reason behind this continuous silence?"

The royal expert adjusted his glasses before responding thoughtfully. "It's important to understand that the royal family operates within a delicate balance of maintaining privacy while also fulfilling their public duties. In such crises, they are often bound by legalities and protocols before releasing any official statements. But I also understand that it is a personal choice of Her Majesty the Queen. I cannot imagine what they are going through. If it was not serious there would have been a televised speech and several public appearances to show that everything is alright."

The second news reporter leaned in, her interest piqued. "But isn't there an obligation to address the public's concern, especially when the situation involves members of the royal family? The succession to the Swedish throne might have changed without us even knowing. "

"Absolutely," the royal expert acknowledged. "However, we must consider the complexities of their position. There might be ongoing investigations, legal consultations, and discussions about how much information can be disclosed without compromising privacy or legal proceedings. And if there had been a change in the line of succession, we would know it by now. I am hundred percent sure about that."

The first news anchor nodded, trying to grasp the intricate nature of the situation. "So, you're saying that this silence might be a strategic move rather than an oversight?"

"Indeed. The royal family, in such situations, treads cautiously, considering the repercussions of each word or statement released," the expert explained. "It's about striking a delicate balance between transparency and protection of personal and legal rights."

The second news reporter chimed in, concern evident in her voice. "But how does this prolonged silence affect the public perception of the royal family?"

The expert paused, reflecting on the broader implications. "Unfortunately, prolonged silence often leads to speculation and sometimes even skepticism. The lack of official information can allow rumors to flourish, impacting the public's trust in the royal family's transparency and accountability."

The first news anchor interjected, seeking clarification. "So, would you say this silence is damaging to the royal family's image?"

"It's a delicate situation," the royal expert replied diplomatically. "The public's patience wears thin, and the longer this silence persists, the higher the risk of losing public trust. It's essential for the royal family to address the situation promptly but also responsibly."

The second news reporter leaned forward, her tone more insistent. "But what should the royal family do to address this growing concern?"

"Transparency is key," the expert emphasized. "They need to find a balance between respecting privacy and fulfilling the public's need for information. An official statement addressing the incident without disclosing sensitive details would be a step in the right direction."

The first news anchor nodded, contemplating the expert's words. "So, we might expect some sort of official statement soon?"

"One would hope so," the royal expert remarked. "But given the complexities involved, it's challenging to determine the exact timeline. However, it's in the best interest of the royal family to address the public's concern sooner rather than later."

The news anchors exchanged thoughtful looks, the conversation with the royal expert leaving them with more questions than answers. They turned to each other, contemplating the expert's insights and the potential reasons for the prolonged silence from the royal family.

"You have made some valid points, but I still wonder why the royal family hasn't released any real, informative statement addressing this," the first news anchor mused, her brow furrowed with concern.

The second news reporter nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Is there something more behind this silence? Is someone gravely injured? That might explain why they're holding off on a full statement."

Her words hung in the air, the possibility of a severe injury among the royal family members casting a shadow over the conversation. The speculation seemed to gain traction, weaving its way into their analysis.

"It is a very plausible theory. We all saw the car wreck. It cannot be called car anymore, just a big chunk of metal," the royal expert intervened, rejoining the conversation. "In such cases, when there's a possibility of severe injuries, the family might prioritize privacy and medical updates over public statements."

The first news anchor nodded, absorbing the information. "So, you're suggesting that their silence an indication of someone's serious health condition?"

"It's a possibility we can't dismiss. The odds speaking for this are not too small," the expert affirmed. "Given the gravity of the situation, it would not be too unlikely for a family to focus on the health and recovery of their members before addressing the public."

The second news reporter leaned forward, her voice tinged with curiosity. "But wouldn't it ease the public concern if they just confirmed or denied the severity of any injuries?"

The royal expert considered her question before responding. "Indeed, providing a basic update on the health status, without delving into specifics, could help alleviate some concerns. However, the family must balance this with the need to respect privacy and the delicate nature of medical information."

The news anchors exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. The situation seemed to be more complex than a mere lack of information. The speculation about a possible severe injury within the royal family added a layer of gravity to the already tense situation.

"Given this perspective," the first news anchor began, "how much longer do you think the royal family can maintain this silence?"

"It's challenging to predict," the royal expert admitted. "The family must carefully navigate legal, medical, and public considerations before releasing any official statement. If indeed someone is injured, their recovery might dictate the timing of any disclosure."

The second news reporter tapped her pen against the table, lost in thought. "But wouldn't an update, even a brief one, demonstrate transparency and maintain public trust?"

"It's a fine line to walk," the expert explained. "They must balance the need for transparency with the obligation to protect personal and medical privacy. And if they do decide to release information, they must ensure it's done in a way that doesn't compromise ongoing investigations or legal proceedings."

The news anchors nodded in understanding, the weight of the situation apparent in their expressions. The possibility of someone being seriously injured within the royal family, prompting this prolonged silence, added a layer of complexity to an already sensitive situation.

“What do you think who it is?” asked one anchor camly

“Ugh, I feel uncomfortable speculating about the health status of a member of the royal Family, but … I feel uncomfortable saying this, but if Erik was in a life threatening situation, we would very likely know. I know it’s horrible to speculate like this, but it would be what I am currently thinking.”

The second news anchor nodded understanding that her colleague did not want to speculate about this on live television, but still, it was a question everyone had not been answered in the last days: “so you are saying that we should pray for Prince Wilhelm?”

“Unfortunately I think so. I’m hoping for the best, I’ve always been a fan of him. And we should pray for both Princes.”

“But just theoretically speaking who would inherit the title of Crown Prince if both Erik and Wilhelm are not able to do so?”

Right at that point Simon stopped listening. How dare they to specifically about something like this?

The tv started to blurry, as tears started to rise in Simons eyes. He had ignored Wille, and now he might be dead. There was no way one could survive a crash like this. Why had he ignored Wille? Now he was gone and he will never see him again. Why didn’t he ran after him after the choir performance and kissed Wille. He loved him and Wille loved him back, he was sure of that. And now he was gone. With a broken heart and thinking his love of his live hated him. Simon couldn’t feel more guilty.
Erik had not even answered him. Had be even read his message. Three days of nothing was just too much to bear.

Chapter Text

The door creaked softly as Kristina and Ludvig entered the hospital room, their steps tentative, not wanting to disturb their sleeping son inside. One of the nurses had explained, that Erik had not left his brothers bedside. Soft rays of sunlight streamed through the partially drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Erik lay on the chair, his head rested gently on Wille's bed, a peaceful slumber softening the edges of his troubled expression.

Kristina's hand covered her mouth in a silent gasp, her eyes quickly welling up with tears at the sight of her son, so deeply asleep after nights of restlessness. Ludvig's heart swelled with empathy, seeing Erik's protectiveness over his younger brother. It reminded him of the many times Erik had fallen asleep beside his younger brother when both of them were still younger.

He and Kristina exchanged a knowing glance, their hearts heavy with concern for both Erik and Wille. Kristina gently placed a hand on Ludvig's arm, as they approached Erik.

"Erik," Kristina whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, not wanting to startle him.

Erik stirred slightly, the words from his dream still echoing faintly in his mind, but he gradually opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered his parents' presence.

"Mama, Papa..." Erik's voice cracked slightly, an emotional blend of relief and exhaustion laced in his words.

"How are you holding up, son?" Ludvig's voice carried a gentle concern, his eyes searching Erik's face for any sign of distress.

"I... I don't know," Erik admitted with a heavy sigh, his gaze momentarily flickering to Wille's peaceful form. "It's been... I can't... I just want him to wake up, be okay."

"We know, Erik," Kristina murmured, her voice tinged with empathy. "We're all hoping and praying for the same thing."

Erik looked back at Wille, his fingers tracing a gentle path on the blanket covering his brother. "He looks so peaceful... I wish I could just take all this pain away from him."

Ludvig rested a hand on Erik's back: "We're here for both of you, Erik. You're not alone."

Erik's eyes drifted back to his younger brother. He reached out and grasped Wille's hand, his touch gentle yet desperate.

"Mama, Papa, I just... I want him to know I'm here," Erik's voice trembled with emotion, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Even if he's not awake, I want him to feel I'm right here."

Kristina's eyes welled up as she watched her son's tender gesture. As much as she was mad at him for drunk driving, she felt proud of that gesture: "Erik, that's so beautiful. He knows you're here, darling. He knows."

Ludvig squeezed Erik's shoulder, offering silent support: "Your brother will get through this, Erik. He'll pull through this."

Erik sat by his brother's side, tracing idle patterns on the edge of the blanket covering Wille's legs. The rhythmic beeping of the medical equipment filled the silence, a steady reminder of the severity of the situation.

Kristina and Ludvig stood nearby. They exchanged glances filled with unspoken worries, their parental instincts urging them to find solace in each other's silent support.

As the door creaked open, Jan-Olof, the chief royal secretary, entered the room, his demeanor composed but carrying an air of urgency. His presence interrupted the quiet, drawing everyone's attention.

"Forgive the interruption," Jan-Olof began, his voice measured and respectful. "May I have a word with Crown Prince Erik for a moment? Of course you may join Your Majesty."

Erik glanced up, a flicker of concern crossing his features. He exchanged a brief, worried look with his parents before nodding in agreement.

Erik felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, as though every moment spent away from Wille's side was a missed opportunity to support his brother. Yet, he understood the necessity of complying with him request.

Reluctantly releasing Wille's hand and rose from the chair. Kristina and Ludvig flanked him as they followed the chief royal secretary through the closed off corridor of the hospital. Erik glanced back at Wille's form one last time before the door softly closed behind them, blocking his view of the room.

Jan-Olof maintained a composed demeanor, his walk indicating something serious has happened as he led the way. The clicking of his polished shoes echoed in the hallway. Despite the presence of his parents, Erik's anxiety began to build, as he did not know what he was about to be confronted with.

He pushed the door open and Erik felt like hundred tons had suddenly been placed on his shoulders. Three police officers and one unfamiliar looking one, not wearing a uniform. He heavily, understanding what it meant. Just by throwing a short glance to both of his parents, he knew that they understood, too.

Afraid that any outsider would hear the following conversation, Kristina closed the door behind them. It was very much an irrational fear, almost the entire hospital staff had to signed an NDA and the only people on this floor were either hospital staff, employees of the royal family or the secret service. Nobody of them was going to risk their existence by leaking information.

The weight of the atmosphere shifted as the unfamiliar figure, an officer, cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable amidst the royal presence. He began, his tone formal yet laced with an undertone of unease.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, thank you for your swift response. We are here to provide an update on the investigation regarding the accident involving the Princes Wilhelm and Erik," he started stated, his words measured.

Erik's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the investigation. He exchanged a glance with his parents, their expressions reflecting very obviously trying to hide the fear of their son’s wrongdoing being exposed. Erik was able to recognise that thought lipped expression almost immediately.

Jan—Olof nodded, indicating for the officer to proceed.

"Firstly, we want to assure you that the investigation is being conducted with the utmost diligence and care," He continued, adjusting his stance slightly. "We've been combing through the details and analyzing all possible factors that may have contributed to the incident. A team has checked the vehicles leftover parts and the road very throughly and we’ve managed to secure a lot of camera offstage of the nearby buildings."

Erik's mind raced, thoughts swirling with questions and a growing sense of urgency. He knew what was about to come and he really did not want that to happen, but it was his fault. Now, he had to deal with the consequences.

"We've gathered evidence from the scene and conducted interviews with witnesses," the officer explained, his gaze shifting between the royal family members. "At this stage, we have found out two likely cases of the incident. It appears to have been a vehicular malfunction, not in the sense of caused by lack of maintenance, but different. At this point in the investigation, we cannot rule out manipulation of breaks. It does not appear to have been very severe manipulation, but definitely subtle enough to cause damage."

Erik's breath caught at the mention of a vehicular malfunction. His mind flashed back to the moments preceding the accident, trying to recall any detail that might shed light on what had happened. He glanced at his parents, seeing the turmoil reflected in their eyes.

"What... what do you mean by with manipulation." Erik's voice trembled slightly, a mix of hope and fear lacing his words.

The officer had not mentioned the alcohol, yet.

The officer hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "The initial findings indicate a potential issue with the vehicle's breaks. We're conducting thorough examinations to ascertain the exact cause. It’s not like it would have been impossible to bear, but still a bit more difficult. It would’ve taken the car longer to stop than common for this model."

Erik's heart sank at the implication. His mind raced with thoughts of what could have gone wrong, his concern for Wille intensifying. He looked to his parents for support, finding a mixture of worry and determination mirrored in their expressions.

"We are doing everything in our power to expedite the investigation," Henriksson assured them, his tone firm. "Your safety and the swift resolution of this matter are of paramount importance to us."

Kristina nodded, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within her. "Thank you, Inspector. We appreciate your dedication to uncovering the truth."

Ludvig's jaw tensed slightly, his gaze fixed on Henriksson. "We trust that the investigation will be conducted thoroughly and promptly."

The senior officer cleared his throat, his expression becoming more somber. "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, in addition to the ongoing investigation into the vehicular malfunction, there's a detail we need to address."

Erik furrowed his brow, a sense of unease creeping in. "What detail?" The alcohol? Were his unspoken words.

"It has been determined through our initial analysis that at the time of the incident, the vehicle was traveling above the speed limit," he revealed, his words landing with a weight that seemed to echo in the room.

Erik's heart sank at the revelation. His mind raced, thoughts colliding with guilt and worry. What kind of a moron was he? Driving drunk and to make it worse, speeding. At this point, he would admit to anything he would be accused of. It was almost like he wanted to face consequences.

"I... I didn't realize. I barely remember that evening," Erik murmured, his voice strained with remorse. Technically, that was not entirely a lie.

Kristina reached out, placing a gentle hand on Erik's arm, offering silent support. Ludvig's gaze softened, understanding the tumult of emotions their son was experiencing.

"We understand, Erik," Ludvig said, his voice calm but tinged with concern. "We know you did not intend to harm your brother. It’s okay, we are not mad at you."

Damn, Erik thought to himself.

His mother was not just the Queen of Sweden, but also the Queen of acting. He saw how furious she was, he eyes never lied. Luckily for him, only he, Wilhelm and Ludvig understood that expression. If the alcohol never gets mentioned, they will keep on acting like Erik is the perfect heir, never causing trouble except for driving a bit too fast. But who doesn’t spreom time to time. They would keep on living a perfect little lie.

The officer added, his tone maintaining its professional demeanor. "We understand the circumstances, Your Highness. However, it's crucial to acknowledge this aspect in our investigation. We'll need to delve further into this detail as we proceed."

Erik nodded, a mix of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts. "Of course, Inspector. Please, whatever it takes to understand what happened."

“What has kind of confused the investigative committee is, that when Crown Prince Erik was admitted to the hospital, his blood has not been tested for any substances. Usually, this is a crucial part in investigating car accidents, but we cannot turn the time back. I guess the Crown Prince has not taken any substances?”

Not sure if this was a test or a genuine question, Erik nodded: “as I’ve said, my memory is somewhat blurry and I’ve stated my memories back a few days prior. I’ve nothing to add, apart from that I’m not into taking any illegal substances and harming my family.”

Illegal substance was technically also not a lie. Alcohol is legal, just not in combination with driving.

Satisfied the police officer nodded in acknowledgment. "We will keep you informed of any developments, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses. Please rest assured that we are committed to uncovering the cause behind this unfortunate incident."

As Henriksson and the officers began to leave, Jan-Olof stepped forward. "If there are any updates or further details, please inform us immediately."

The officers nodded: “of course”

Chapter Text

Suddenly a nervous nurse hurried into the room, her breaths uneven as she scanned the area. She looked around the room and spotted the Royal Family and hurriedly approached them, her voice slightly trembling with urgency.

"Your Majesty, your Highnesses," she began, trying to compose herself. "Please, you must come with me right away. The doctor requests your immediate presence." Her eyes darted from one member to the other, emphasizing the importance of her words.

The officer bid them goodbye with a respectful bow, understanding that the Royal Family wanted to follow the nurse immediately, knowing the seriousness of the situation before exiting the room. They looked at them with great sorrow knowing that very likely something bad has happened. With a shared glance between the three, Erik, Kristina, and Ludvig quickly followed the nurse down the corridors, her pace hurried and her expression fraught with concern.

The click of their footsteps echoed through the halls as they rushed alongside the nurse. The urgency of the situation added weight to every step, their hearts pounding in worry.

Upon reaching the doctor's office, the nurse pushed the door open, ushering in the royal family with an air of urgency. Inside, the doctor greeted them with an eager smile that contrasted the anxiety-filled atmosphere they had just left behind.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses," the doctor greeted with a relieved tone, standing up from behind the desk. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"What's happened? Is it about Wilhelm?" Erik's voice trembled with a mixture of fear and hope.

The doctor's smile widened as she nodded. "Yes, indeed. We've seen some positive signs in Prince Wilhelm's condition. His vital signs have drastically improved and we would no longer consider him to be in life threatening condition. He is not out of the woods yet, by any means, but still, we are very glad to see improvement so quickly. After severe accidents like this it is not to uncommon to fight for lives for weeks and still lose. The improvement from yesterday to today is somewhat of a miracle, if I’m very honest. But still, I don’t want to give you false hopes. I’d go as far as to say that it’s not too unlikely that he will start to breath by himself soon."

Relief washed over the room, palpable in the collective sigh that escaped the royal family. Kristina's eyes glistened with tears, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in disbelief. Ludvig placed a supportive hand on Erik's shoulder, a silent affirmation of the good news they had all desperately hoped for.

"Can we see him? Can we be with him?" Erik's voice quivered with emotion, his heart pounding with a newfound hope.

The doctor nodded, her eyes filled with compassion. "Yes, absolutely. He's still unconsciousness, but he has definitely made huge progress, just remember it when seeing him. I know it helps. And talk to him, he may even hear you and be calmed by your voices. You can be with him for a short while."

The family hurried towards Wilhelm's room, their steps lighter than before.

They entered the room of their youngest family member.

Chapter Text

The soft hum of medical machinery filled the room as they entered. Wilhelm lay on the bed, surrounded by various monitors and equipments. Tubes and wires connected him to life-sustaining apparatus, reminding everyone of the fragility of his situation despite the positive turn of events.

Kristina approached first, her hand reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from Wilhelm's forehead. Ludvig stood by her side, his eyes fixed on their son with a mix of relief and concern. Erik lingered a step back, a knot of emotions building in his chest as he watched his younger brother, barely recognizable from the always active brother he knew. Wilhelm never sat still, he was constantly brushing his hair back, biting his fingers or fidgeting with his legs. Even if these were all signs of the anxiety he struggled his brother struggled with, Erik already missed his antics.

"He looks... better," Kristina murmured, her voice choked with emotion.

The doctor entered the room behind them, her presence reassuring yet tempered by caution. "Yes, he's responding to the treatment. His body is showing positive signs of stability. It's a considerable improvement from what we've seen."

Erik took a step closer, his eyes fixed on Wilhelm's face, wanting him to wake up, to show any signs of consciousness. He reached out, taking Wilhelm's hand in his, the coldness of his brothers hand grounded him in the moment.

"Wilhelm, it's Erik," he whispered, the words barely audible, his voice choked with emotion. "Please wake up, little brother."

The room fell silent, save for the beeping monitors. They all watched over Wilhelm, each minute feeling like an eternity, hoping for any sign of improvement, any flicker of movement that would signal his return to consciousness.

"Is it true?" Erik whispered, barely able to voice the question, his voice strained with guilt.

Ludvig exchanged a glance with Kristina, his expression reflecting both concern for Wilhelm and empathy for Erik's turmoil. "What?"

"That August was the one who posted the video?" Erik clarified, the memories if him throwing accusations at his replayed in his head. He had called his younger brother all sorts of nasty names.

Kristina swallowed heavily, her eyes betraying the pain of the situation. "Yes."

Erik's chest tightened with regret and disbelief. He had doubted Wilhelm's words, choosing to believe Augusts over his brother's words. Now, faced with the reality of his mistake, he felt a profound sense of guilt wash over him.

"I... I didn't believe you, Wille," Erik murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I accused you of lying."

The room seemed to shrink around them as the weight of Erik's admission hung in the air. His gaze remained fixed on Wilhelm, silently pleading for forgiveness, even in his unconscious state.

"I feel horrible," Erik confessed, his voice quivering with the weight of remorse. "I should've believed you. My god I should have believed you. I did all of this to you, I accused you, I almost killed you. I don’t deserve you, gubben, I don’t deserve you."

Kristina placed a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder, her touch a silent reassurance amidst his distress. "We all make mistakes, Erik. What's important now is that Wilhelm knows you're here, that you care for him deeply."

Ludvig stepped closer, his voice gentle yet firm. "Your brother needs you now more than ever, Erik. It's not too late to show him your support. He will understand you, Erik. He knows how close you and August are."

Erik nodded, a mix of sorrow and determination etched across his face. He leaned closer to Wilhelm, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Wille. I should've trusted you. Please wake up. I need you to know."

The room remained hushed, save for the steady hum of medical equipment. Erik's hand remained intertwined with Wilhelm's limb hand, his silent plea for forgiveness echoing in the solemn atmosphere.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity as they held vigil by Wilhelm's bedside. Erik's gaze never wavered from his brother's face, his heart heavy with regret for not standing by Wilhelm when he needed him the most.

Erik's internal turmoil churned, a tempest of regret, guilt, and now turned into pure rage that threatened to consume him. His grip tightened on Wilhelm's hand, the clasp both a desperate anchor and a silent plea for forgiveness.

Kristina and Ludvig noticed the shift in Erik's demeanor. His clenched jaw, the tremble in his hands, and rage brewing behind his eyes were all telltale signs of his anger.

"Erik," Kristina's voice was soft but urgent, concern etched in her features. "You need to calm down, darling. Your anger won't help Wilhelm right now."

But Erik's emotions surged, an overwhelming mix of self-loathing and fury at August's betrayal. He felt betrayed himself, for not trusting Wilhelm, for doubting his own brother's words and believing his second cousin over him. The sense of betrayal from someone he held dear, like August, made him even more angry.

“And you knew and protected him. You protected your nephew over your own son. You knew and let me accuse my little brother. It’s your fault as well. He is laying in this bed because of you and me. You let me accuse him of being a liar, my own brother. How dare you to shut up about what August has done to us, the family. He betrayed all of us, me, Wille, you, hell, the entire country.”

Ludvig placed a hand on Erik's shoulder, attempting to calm him down: "Erik, listen to your mother. You're not helping Wilhelm or yourself by letting this anger consume you."

But Erik's emotions had become to strong to calm. He felt a conflict within—anger at August and the deep remorse for his own actions that contributed to Wilhelm's pain.

"I trusted him, Papa," Erik's voice quivered with a mix of sadness and rage. "I believed him over Wille. I defended him, and he betrayed us. The Crown, The Royal Family for gods sake."

Kristina moved closer, trying to catch Erik's gaze, her voice gentle yet insistent. "You have every right to be upset, Erik. But right now, Wilhelm needs you. He needs your love, your support. I’m not happy with my nephews actions, but now this is not out top priority."

Tears streamed down Erik's cheeks, a mixture of grief, guilt, and anger. His hands shook with the intensity of his emotions, the rage threatening to overwhelm him completely. He had dropped his brothers hand and gripped the bed’s railing instead, his knuckles turning white.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," Erik's voice trembled with the weight of his feelings. "I need to do something. I need to make it right."

Ludvig drew Erik into a comforting embrace, holding him tightly: "We'll figure it out, Erik. Right now, let's focus on being here for Wilhelm."

Kristina's voice was dire, as she understood how angry her eldest son was:"We'll address it in due time, Erik. But please, for Wilhelm's sake, calm yourself now. We'll sort this out together."

“I can’t take this anymore.”

The agony of guilt and rage burned within him, bubbling to the surface as he rose abruptly from his seat by Wilhelm's bedside. His hands trembled with the intensity of his emotions, clenched into fists as his knuckles turned pale.

Without another word, Erik turned away from his family, his jaw clenched in anger and sorrow. His steps were heavy, echoing with the weight of his inner turmoil. The room seemed to spin around him, a dizzying whirlwind of regret and fury.

Kristina called out after him, her voice tinged with concern, "Erik, wait!" But her plea was lost in the tempest of emotions that enveloped him.

He didn't look back, couldn't bear to face Ludvig's understanding yet pained gaze, or the sorrowful eyes of his mother. The guilt gnawed at him, but so did the fierce anger that surged through his veins.

As he stormed out of the room, the door swung shut behind him with a resounding thud, punctuating the intensity of his departure. The sound reverberated in his ears, a stark reminder of his fury and the impact of his actions.

His anger had healed his injuries, at least that was what it seemed, or rather felt like. He did not feel the pain shooting up his leg, all he felt was anger. Pure anger.

The corridor seemed to narrow as Erik rushed forward, his mind clouded with a singular thought— punishment. Each step echoed his determination to find August, to demand answers, to unravel the betrayal that had pushed Wilhelm into such agony.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, a mixture of anguish and the fire of fury that blazed within him. Erik's eyes burned with unshed tears, a reflection of the emotions he couldn't contain.

In the flurry of emotions, Erik's escape downstairs was a frantic attempt to outrun his security detail. His heart raced, echoing the thud of his footsteps as he hastily navigated the corridors. Each step was fueled by a mix of determination and desperation to confront August.

His injured leg throbbed, protesting the hasty movement, but Erik pushed on, his focus consumed by the boiling anger, blurring the edges of his surroundings. Kristina and Ludvig's calls faded into the background, overshadowed by his thoughts within him.

The hospital corridors seemed endless, stretching and contorting in Erik's mind as he raced downward, every turn a blur in his hurried escape. His breaths came in rapid gasps, determination resonating within him.

Finally, reaching the basement, a sense of temporary refuge washed over Erik. The space was dimly lit, the concrete walls echoing the chaos of his thoughts.

Standing against the wall, Erik's hands trembled as he tried to steady his breathing, his chest heaving from the rush and the intensity of his emotions. Tears welled in his eyes, anger mixing with a profound sense of loss and betrayal. The sense of guilt dragging him deeper into anger.

Memories flashed through his mind—memories of laughter shared with Wilhelm, moments of brotherly camaraderie that felt like distant echoes in the turbulent storm of his current emotions. Regret clawed at Erik's heart, each pang amplified by the realization of the betrayal that had unfolded, both from August and from his own doubts.

Erik's hands fumbled for the keys, grasping them tightly as if they were a lifeline. The sound of footsteps from the distant corridors spurred him into action, a sharp reminder that his escape couldn't afford any delays.

Swallowing hard, Erik pushed himself off the wall, his movements more resolute now, spurred by a need to seek justice for his brother, to confront the source of his torment. He made his way through the basement's eerie silence, his steps echoing along the corridors leading to the parking area.

The anger, the grief, the remorse—they all swirled within him.

Finally reaching the garage, Erik's vision blurred with tears. The sight of the parents strangely unguarded car was a relief.

When arriving this morning, he had been handed the cars keys without much intention. His security details mistakenly paid off well, at least for Erik right now, who was still shanking in anger.

The handle of the car door felt cold against his trembling hand as he pulled it open. Erik slumped into the driver's seat, tears streaming down his face, a mix of anger and sorrow clouding his vision.

He had never driven this thing, only his or his friends sports cars. It wouldn’t be too hard, would it?

The car's interior offered a momentary cocoon, a brief respite from the chaos that gripped his soul. With a shaky hand, Erik started the engine, the roar of the car echoing the tumult of his emotions.

A glance in the rearview mirror reflected his tear-streaked face, a visage twisted by the agony of betrayal and the weight of his own mistakes. The drive ahead was uncertain, but one thing remained clear—he couldn't stay away for long. His heart ached to return, to seek Wilhelm's forgiveness, to stand by his brother's side in the face of adversity.

Erik's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the intensity of his emotions. As the car pulled out of the garage, leaving the hospital behind, Erik's resolve solidified—he would return, confront August, but more importantly, seek redemption for doubting Wilhelm and defend his brother at all costs.

He heard the hasty steps of security detail that rushed towards him and the car that offered him an escape out of the hospital. One last look at the men in black running towards him, he drove off. Way faster than in a garage allowed. He had to be quick, otherwise they will shut down the gates. He will not be held back by the guards. Not this time.

Chapter Text

Kristina and Ludvig stood in the wake of Erik running away. Erik, typically the more composed and measured one of their sons, had acted very uncharacteristically. None of the parents could remember Erik ever acting like that.

Kristina's eyes remained fixed on the door through which Erik had stormed out, her usually calm expression filled with concern. Ludvig, too, wore a mask of surprise, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation.

"Is everything okay?" A nurse poked her head into the room, sensing the abrupt change in the atmosphere.

Kristina managed a weak smile, though her voice quivered slightly. "Yes, everything's fine. Thank you."

Ludvig turned to his wife, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. "I've never seen Erik like this. He's usually the one holding it together, especially in times like these."

Kristina nodded, her thoughts racing. "I know, it's not like him at all. He's always been the calm one, especially compared to Wilhelm. I hope he does nothing stupid."

The realization of Erik's departure, especially considering his injured leg, added another layer of concern. Ludvig rubbed his forehead, deep in thought. "Kristina please don’t say it like that. We misunderstood Wille, especially you. We should have listened to both of them. But I’m wondering, how did he manage to walk out like that? He's still recovering from his injury. I’m worried about him, just as much as about Wille."

Kristina gently placed a hand on Ludvig's arm, her touch a reassuring gesture amidst the whirlwind of emotions. She caught his gaze, offering him a calm, understanding expression.

"Ludvig, I know this is worrying, but Erik might just need some time to process everything," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "He's always been one to need a moment alone when emotions run high. Remember when he was younger? He'd retreat to his room whenever something upset him."

Ludvig's worry didn't ease entirely, but he nodded, acknowledging Kristina's point. "You're right. He did have that tendency back then, didn't he? I just don't want him to make impulsive decisions, especially with his leg still healing."

Kristina nodded sympathetically. "I understand, maybe the best thing we can do is give him a moment. Erik is just as sensible as Wille, with the different being that he usually hides it. He knows the importance of his recovery and taking care of himself."

She intertwined her fingers with Ludvig's, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Let's not panic just yet. I'm sure he'll be back soon. He needs to collect himself, process his feelings, and then he'll return."

Ludvig took a deep breath, trying to quell the anxiety that gnawed at him. "You're right. I suppose we just have to trust Erik to do what's best for him."

Kristina offered a warm smile, her eyes reflecting both understanding and support. "Exactly. He loves Wilhelm deeply. Seeing his little brother in that state shook him. Erik just needs some time to gather his thoughts."

“But u still wonder how he just ran away like that. I mean, he was barely able to get up and walk a few steps a few hours ago.”

Kristina shook her head, equally perplexed. "I have no idea. He must have been fueled by emotions. I just hope he doesn't hurt himself further."

Their worry for Wilhelm hadn't lessened, but now, another concern brewed for Erik's well-being. They both knew Erik's tendency to internalize his emotions, and this sudden eruption was unsettling, to say the least.

Ludvig glanced at the clock, realizing that Erik had been gone for several minutes now. "We should find him. Erik's anger, as justified as it may be, shouldn't lead him to make rash decisions."

Kristina agreed, her worry evident in the furrow of her brow. "Yes, we need to make sure he's okay too. But Wilhelm—"

"Wilhelm needs us all," Ludvig interjected, his tone firm yet laden with concern. "But right now, Erik's actions are unpredictable. We should try to reach him before he does something he might regret."

The couple exchanged a worried glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. They left Wilhelm's room in haste, determined to locate Erik before his emotions led him to any further distress. Their concern for both their sons weighed heavily on their hearts.

As they hurried down the corridor, they scanned the hospital's surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Erik.

Malin approached Kristina and Ludvig, explaining that Erik had taken one of the security details cars and nobody knew where he was heading.

Erik was gone.

Chapter Text

The time has come; now you may choose how you want the story to continue:

What have we destroyed (sad ending):

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52717432/chapters/133340209

What can we rebuild (happy ending):
https://archiveofourown.org/works/52717486/chapters/133340359

Please not that I’m new to writing non happy endings, so it may be not as nicely written as the happy ending. That’s why the happy one will be the main storyline. It’ll be longer and I’ll update more regularly. Feel free to leave a review, even if I may not answer immediately, I’m really into hearing your opinions and how you liked certain bits and pieces. I’m incredibly nervous about how you guys are going to like this, but I’m somewhat positive… I know that this isn’t the usual route a work takes, but I’m positive. Love you guys.