Henry takes a major turn for the worse. James tries to convince him to go to the hospital, and Henry attempts to tell James the truth.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I'm merely borrowing them for my own amusement.
Warnings: Adult Themes, Slash, Temporary Character Death, mentions of Suicide
Spoilers: General spoilers for the whole of Season 1.
Author's Notes: This story exists in an alternate universe in which James Carter is alive in present day. Henry and James had been dating for awhile before Henry started working with Jo. I'm not sure when exactly this story is supposed to take place, but it's probably before the events of episode 8. This story was written for the Big Reveal Ficathon event.
When James returned home from work the next day, he found Henry sprawled out asleep on the living room couch. The television was on tuned to the History channel. It was rare for Henry to watch TV of his own accord, even if it was educational. He only gave in when he wasn't feeling well enough to do anything, but wasn't tired enough to sleep either. Though clearly the television had helped to put him to sleep. He chuckled slightly as he pictured Henry ranting about the inaccuracies of whatever documentary he had been watching before he finally passed out. James turned off the TV, and then turned around to take a look at Henry.
Henry had seemed like he had been doing better that morning, even if his wound had looked slightly worse. His fever had gone down somewhat and he had definitely been more alert. Now he looked positively awful. His face was flushed and he was sweating. He seemed to be writhing slightly in his sleep, and James wasn't sure if he was in pain or if he was having bad dreams. He placed his hand on Henry's forehead and gasped when he felt how hot his skin was. He hated seeing Henry like this and his heart ached for him. He lowered his hand and gently caressed Henry's cheek.
Henry woke when he felt the soft touch of James's hand on his face, but that was soon overshadowed by pain, and he failed to suppress a loud moan. "James..." he managed to gasp out as he opened his eyes.
"Yes Henry, I'm right here," James answered in a soft comforting voice. "You're burning up pretty badly."
"I really don't feel well at all. It hurts so much..." Henry practically whimpered.
"I know, I know. I'm going to get you back into bed, then I'll take your temperature and look at your arm." Henry nodded and James picked him up off the couch.
This time Henry didn't protest at being carried. He wasn't sure he had the strength to get up off of the couch himself, and right now he was just trying to focus on not crying out in agony. It wasn't just his arm. He hurt all over, but it felt like more than just the normal aches and pains that accompany a fever.
It didn't take long for James to get Henry back upstairs and into their bedroom. He gently set Henry down on the bed, propping the pillows up under him. "I'll be right back, ok?" Henry nodded and he placed a tender kiss on his head, before leaving to get the thermometer and medical supplies.
Henry tried to relax against the pillows, but it was so hard when he hurt everywhere, and he found himself squirming involuntarily. He was cold too and wanted to pull the blanket over him, but he knew that James would just have to take it off again to examine his arm. This was bad. He didn't have to wait for James to assess his wound to know that. He sensed that the chances of him having to tell James the truth about his immortality had greatly increased. His mind started racing wondering how James would react to the news. He was fairly sure that James wouldn't take him seriously without proof. Unfortunately, given how ill he was feeling, James might just get that proof. But once he saw proof, how would he take it? Would he accept him for who he was, and stand by him as Abigail had done, or would he run? The thought of James leaving him filled him with a pain that, for a few moments, overshadowed the waves of physical pain flowing through his body. Tears came to his eyes unbidden, and he let them flow freely down his face, not having the energy to wipe them away.
When James returned to the bedroom, he felt his heart ache at the sight before him. Henry was writhing on the bed in obvious pain, and there were tears streaming down his face. He climbed into bed next to Henry and set the medical supplies aside, before reaching over to wipe the tears from Henry's face. "Oh Henry, it really hurts that much?"
Henry nodded. "It's not just my arm. It hurts everywhere, like acid flowing through my veins," he explained, not bothering to correct the assumption that that was the reason why he was crying.
James frowned. He didn't like the sound of that at all. "Ok, we'll take your temperature, and then you can have some pain medicine." He picked up the thermometer and put it in Henry's mouth. After a couple of minutes it beeped, and he removed it from Henry's mouth to read it. James's face drew tight with worry when he read the display. "You have a fever of 103.6. We have to get this down." He grabbed the bottle of Percocet from the night stand, removed a couple of pills, then handed them to Henry along with a glass that he filled from the pitcher on the night stand. Henry swallowed the pills down with a long sip of water. "Have you been taking your antibiotics on schedule?"
"Yes, Abraham has been making sure of that," Henry answered, putting the glass back on the night stand.
James nodded. "Ok, then you shouldn't be due for more of those for awhile." He was about to grab the supplies to change Henry's bandage when he saw that he had started crying again. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but the medication will start to help you feel better soon," he said in a soothing voice as he put his arms around Henry.
James's embrace caused an emotional dam to burst, and Henry found himself throwing his arms tightly around him, holding on for dear life as he started sobbing into his chest. "Please don't leave me James," he begged through his tears. "I couldn't bear it. I love you so much..."
Taken quite aback at Henry's emotional outburst, for a few moments, James said nothing and simply rubbed Henry's back as he cried. "Shh shh, it's ok. I love you too and I'm not going anywhere. I promise you that I'm going to take care of you." Henry seemed to relax somewhat against him, and he kept rubbing his back until he finally stopped crying.
Henry pulled back from James slightly and gazed up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just get emotional sometimes when I'm ill."
James chuckled and pressed a tender kiss against Henry's forehead as he wiped his tears away. "So I've noticed. It's alright. You're very sick, and you are entitled to be a bit emotional. Can I look at your arm now?" Henry nodded, released his hold on James, and unbuttoned his pajama top. James helped Henry remove his injured arm from his shirt sleeve, and his mouth dropped open in dismay at what he saw. Jagged red streaks seemed to be radiating out up and down Henry's arm from beneath the bandage that were definitely not there that morning. James gently removed the bandage and traced the streaks with his eyes back to the center of the wound. The wound itself was even more red and swollen than it had been, and it was still oozing pus. "Henry, I think we need to go to the hospital now," said James, only just barely managing to keep his voice steady as an overwhelming sense of dread filled him.
"No James, please no hospitals!" Henry pleaded desperately. "I told you I have IV equipment in my laboratory. We can treat this at home."
"Henry, look at your arm. This is very bad," said James grimly. "You don't seem to be responding to the antibiotics I gave you, which means that this could be MRSA, especially given how fast the infection is spreading. You need to have the wound surgically drained. Depending on how bad it is, you might even need to have your arm amputated." James found himself blinking back tears as he delivered his assessment. He couldn't bear the thought of his beautiful Henry being maimed so, but he would rather have Henry disfigured than not have him at all. Just then, his cell phone started ringing, and he cursed under his breath at the timing of it. He saw Jo's number on the caller ID and reluctantly answered it. "Hello Jo."
"Hey James. Look I'm sorry, but it turns out that I'm going to have to work late tonight, so I won't be able to stop by and visit Henry," Jo apologized.
James let out a small sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to deal with her under the current circumstances. "That's alright. It's probably for the best. Henry's still very sick and he's not really up for having visitors."
"Poor guy. I really hope he starts to feel better soon."
"Yes so do I. Well I was just in the middle of changing his bandage, so I really need to go," James explained.
"Oh right, carry on. I'll call to check in again tomorrow. Bye James."
"Goodbye Jo," James said and ended the call. He turned back to look at Henry who was staring at him with a fearful look on his face.
"James please... I cannot go to the hospital. I cannot risk having my arm amputated," Henry said in small frightened voice as he started to shake.
James put his arms around Henry and held him close. "I know you're scared, but please don't fight me on this. You could die Henry, and I can't bear the thought of losing you. I love you so much, and that's not going to change just because you're missing a limb." James bit his lip as he felt his own eyes welling with tears, and they soon overflowed running down his face. He sniffled and wiped the tears away. "I know you'll probably have to change careers, but you have to realize it's better than death."
"Oh James, that isn't at all what I'm worried about. The fact that I could have my arm amputated or even die means that the hospital is the worst place for me..." Henry trailed off knowing that he really was going to have to try to tell James the truth now.
"I don't understand. If you're not worried about changing careers or that I'll love you any less, then what is it?" James asked gently.
"I can't risk having my arm amputated because it will just grow back and that's not something I can hide. I won't go through another round of experimentation. I can't bear it!" Henry practically shouted.
"Henry calm down. You're not making any sense," said James growing alarmed. "What do you mean your arm will just grow back?"
Henry couldn't bear to look at James and he buried his head in his chest before he began his confession. "I'm so sorry James. I should have told you this sooner. I'm not like most people. I can't die, at least not permanently. When I die, I just come back to life completely healed. I don't age either. I'm 235 years old."
James sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Henry you have a high fever and you're delirious. This is all the more reason why I need to take you to the hospital."
Henry pulled himself out of James's embrace and glared at him. "I'm not delirious James! It's the truth! I can prove it!"
"Ok ok, you're a 235 year old immortal man," James said trying to placate Henry.
"You don't believe me," Henry said in an accusatory tone.
"Look, I think I should go talk to Abe. Clearly he has no idea how sick you are right now, or he would have closed the shop."
"Yes, go talk to Abe," Henry agreed emphatically. "He'll tell you I'm not lying."
"Alright, let me take care of your arm and then I'll go talk to him." Henry nodded and James cleaned and re-bandaged his arm, then he went down to the shop to find Abe and let him know what was going on with Henry.
Abe looked up from his desk when James came down the stairs to the shop. "Hey, how's Henry doing?"
James sighed. "I'm afraid Henry's taken quite a turn for the worse. His infection isn't responding to the antibiotics and it's spreading quite quickly. He really needs to be in the hospital, but he's refusing."
Abe nodded. "Well Henry's always hated hospitals. Can't you do something for him here with all that equipment in his lab?"
"That's what he wants, but really it's already beyond the point where we can treat this at home. He's probably going to need surgery," James explained. "On top of everything, he's got a high fever. He's delirious and babbling about being immortal. He claimed that if his arm is amputated it will just grow back."
"I see..." Abe was slightly surprised that Henry had tried to tell James the truth, but he supposed it had become necessary at this point. He couldn't say he blamed James for not believing Henry in his current condition, especially without any proof. It seemed that right now they didn't have enough time to sit James down with all of the photos and documents to try to convince him. James was going to have to see Henry die. Not only would it be faster, but it would also serve the purpose of curing Henry. "Ok, I'll come try to talk some sense into him, but knowing Henry, he is not going to go to the hospital without a fight. We'll probably have to sedate him."
"Yes you're probably right, but what are we going to sedate him with?" James asked, wondering what they could possibly have in the house that would do the trick.
"Henry's got some stuff in his lab for experiments," Abe answered and slipped down to the basement.
James's eyes widened when Abe returned two minutes later holding a syringe. He wasn't sure he wanted to know why Henry kept injectable sedatives on hand, and right now he didn't really care. He hated the idea of drugging Henry in order to get him to do something he really didn't want to do, but if it would save his life, it was worth it.