Work Text:
The worst thing about being awake for long periods of time, Henry decided, was that even if he wanted to be around other people more, he couldn’t.
At some point, they all succumb to their exhaustion, leaving him to spend hours on end all alone. In the dark. Even if he was a regular, middle class, random person, with a regular job, everything stopped during night time. And he was a prince. He’d traveled enough in the name of the Crown to know that eventually, the sun set, and come nightfall, most people went to sleep.
He only had himself for company, even when he was away from home. It used to be especially when he was away from home, but that was before.
Before Bea went to rehab.
Before mum stopped responding to them.
Before Philip gave up on the idea of ‘family’.
Before Mary sent him off, parading him around to pretend the Royal Family was as sparkly as the crown jewels.
Before dad died.
He wished he could go back two years in time. Maybe if he knew, he could have committed to memory what it felt like to be hugged by his family, by anyone who ever distantly cared about him.
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the last time he had any contact with another living being other than a perfunctory, protocol mandated, polite handshake.
While he started getting used to being alone for so many hours every night, he wished he was home.
He missed being home.
At sunrise light filtered in through the windows. Cruelly reminding him of where he was.
In the quiet start of another day, Henry couldn’t hold onto his denial. His muffled crying echoed in the too large room.
At least when it was dark, Henry didn’t have to acknowledge that he was already home.