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He's still trying to get it right. It's a work-in-progress at the best of times because all of their examples of siblinghood come from either other family members or media and neither of those are spectacular.
He thinks he's failed when Bea needs to be admitted to rehab, when she checks herself out. He has no idea what makes her want to try enough to check back in, but he's thankful.
And then he sees the family calendar—Dad's insistence when they started getting busier as teens—and sees that Henry's scheduled for a meeting with Gran the next morning. Just Henry.
Christ, of all the family he's failed, he feels like he fails Henry the most. He never quite knows how to connect, how to interact, how to be a good brother to him.
Maybe being there for the meeting with Mary can be a good first step.
---
Philip's late. He's late, he's late, he's bloody late.
He takes the stairs through Buckingham two at a time until he gets to Mary's office, where Shaan is waiting outside, looking for all the world like he isn't eavesdropping.
"I would not recommend going in there, sir," Shaan says and Philip purses his lips. "I believe Her Majesty is having a... difficult conversation with His Highness. Difficult for him, that is."
"And if I said I was here to support Henry?" he asks and Shaan relaxes slightly, nodding. "Thank you."
So he strides in, only stopping when he processes what the fuck Mary is saying.
"There are appropriate channels," she says, "so that you may maintain the appropriate appearances while curbing your... deviant desires."
Out of everyone in their family, Philip's spent the most time with their grandmother and he knows her opinions on things and no. Absolutely not. She is not keeping his brother trapped like that.
"Last I checked, Gran, this is the twenty-first century, not the Dark Ages, nor are we what an entire nation hinges upon. We are figureheads. On top of that, Henry's the spare—no offense, Henry—"
"None taken?" Henry says, looking absolutely bewildered.
"There is no reason for him to have to hide who he is."
"The people would never accept it," Mary argues in a prim tone.
"There are over a million people that openly identify as LGBT. You forget, Gran, which of us handles more of the business side of things lately." Philip levels her with a look, one that reminds her how much she's been slipping lately. How easy it would be to bring those concerns to Parliament. "You told me our personal tastes were to never reflect upon the Crown. And yet, Your Majesty..."
He trails off, letting Henry and Mary fill in the appropriate accusations there. She's been a hypocrite of the highest order for years and it hasn't been until recently that he has the capacity to do something about it. But he won't let her harm another one of his family, not after what her attitude did to Bea.
"And I suppose you think your brother's deviance isn't—"
"What I think is that my brother's orientation isn't something he should have to hide away or change in order to keep you happy. Because that's what it is, isn't it? You say image, but all we do is look increasingly out of touch and increasingly obsolete. Leave Henry be and I will behave myself. I will be the picture perfect heir."
When Mary starts to look smug, like she's plotting, he drops the other half of his ultimatum.
"Force Henry to stay in the closet, to hide who he is, and I will bring my concerns about your faculties before Parliament. We can't have a queen who mixes up the names of fellow world leaders, after all."
"I should have done more to get rid of that man," Mary mutters with a glare at them. Philip just straightens the slightest bit further and raises his eyebrows. "It's obvious he had far too much influence on the both of you. I believed you could be molded, but it's clear that death has done nothing to assist in that. He may have thought Henry's lifestyle would be excusable, even acceptable—" the word is spit out like something disgusting "—but he is gone. His beliefs and opinions are of no import."
The insult to their father is standard at this point, but Philip's mind catches on a specific part of her rant.
He may have thought Henry's lifestyle—
"Dad knew," Philip whispers in unison with Henry, who looks shell-shocked and adds, "Dad knew and told you to stuff it, didn't he?"
"His opinions are as irrelevant as the man himself is. He is gone and buried and your mother practically gone with him. I am the one you must answer to—"
"Excuse me, Your Majesty," Philip says, the title sounding more like a curse. "I think you misunderstood me. I will bring those concerns to Parliament. And I have proof."
At that, Mary's scowl deepens again but Philip refuses to fold.
"Henry gets to be who he wants. Whether that's in the closet or out or moving into the Oxford library, that's up to him. But he'll get to make that choice. I am not fool enough to make idle threats, Gran. Your choice. Let your grandson live as he wants or I see you deposed."
Henry's looking at him like he's not sure Philip's real again and he'll apologize for his shitty previous treatment of his brother later, but for now, his focus is on Mary.
"What will it be, Gran?"