This is stupid. Does he really expect this to work? Like seriously, if anyone saw him right now, they would be laughing their arses off at him. Period. No question mark, Prince Henry has lost his marbles, The Sun will be foaming at the mouth, his life is over.

He's desperate however, so he'll just put this down to a psychotic break if he has to, as he puts the last of the supplies he's bought under the radar in their places, surveying the living room of the brownstone as his heart beats anxiously in his chest.

While their living room was never much to begin with, it has become a lot more than it was now, as where it housed a couch, coffee table, a TV stand and a rug - it now houses a circle of blue salt partly around it and a record player on the table in the very middle, along with a clock and a small fly knife Henry located in the drawer next to Alex's side of the bed.

Alex. Yes. He's doing this for Alex.

Henry missed him. His boyfriend was one of the only things in the world that made him feel free. Free from expectations and duty and obligations. Then, just as fast as Alex entered his life and made it better than it ever was, he was gone. Just like that. Henry hadn't recovered and he was sure most others hadn't as well, given Alex's passing was so sudden and unexpected - but he doubted that the former president and her husband as well as Alex's friends were in the business of evocation via ancient Latin spell books and romantic movies.

While Henry hadn't exactly been a true fan of romance, he'd gotten more into them due to Byron's poetry and a handful of other factors (including Alex introducing him to some queer romance films) that had made him privy to the odd sappy film on TV. Hence, given his degree of uncomfortabilty with summoning the fucking ghost of his recently deceased boyfriend, he had decided to go with something a little on the nose, as Alex would say.

The bastard better appreciate his theatrics. If everything truly worked.

Taking a deep breath, Henry felt like the salt still in the bag in his hand weighed a hundred pounds as he took his place in the circles, unbuttoned shirt and boxers almost blending in with his surroundings as he poured the rest of the salt down, closing the circle and then lighting a candle, placing it down upon it and letting it nestle into the sky like hue, it's white wax already starting to drip into the cracks.

Bracing himself, Henry brought the paring knife to his palm before he sharply digs it in, red blossoming from the fresh wound and oozing out as he holds it over the candle, the bright color mixing with the pale and creating a pinkish hue that spreads far beyond it's starting point. That makes it's working so far. It's only when Henry finishes bandaging his hand so it doesn't bleed or catch infection that it starts to trail out more, eventually causing the circle to fill and glow with a strange pastel light that bounces of the brownstone's dark walls.

Henry can't breathe, can't move, as the glow intensifies, almost bringing a kind of heat from itself as it shimmers before it leaves, dulling down to an emberish strength.

When his chest is finally working again, Henry waits to see if he can hear or feel any sign that it has worked. That he's successfully managed to summon Alex somehow. That he can see him just one last time. There are cars outside, that's given in New York City, so he tries to block that out and concentrate, but he hears nothing. At least, not yet.

Was he really so fucking daft to believe that a book from the 1700's made by some possibly high monk or worse would get him somewhere? He's a prince for gods sake! This is probably some sick joke, that the salt reacting to his blood and the candle was just a chemical reaction and not meaningful at all. It's pointless and for so much hope…

Henry just wanted out of here. He just wanted to go to bed and forget this mess, he would even clean it in the morning so he didn't have to see it and never think about it again - but as he stood from where he'd sat, angry and bitterly disappointed, the sound of the record player coming on without him touching it unexpectedly stopped him in his tracks.

And of course, it's playing that damn Elvis cover from Alfred and Victoria.

Their song, always their song.

Henry closes his eyes tightly as tears well within them, the song washing over him like a cold bath as he tries to listen along. He swears he can feel something in the air, static-like and present, goosebumps on his skin heightening everything, before something akin to velvet brushes up against him, the temperature of morning dew, lukewarm but on the colder side. He can feel his hand being taken by another, those velvety fingers that were very different to human skin wrapping around it before bringing it to some equally cold lips, the shock of it all forcing Henry to open his eyes in a flash, his lungs ceasing to breathe again.

It's him. God, it's him. He looks almost like he did in life, with those black curls and tanned skin. Wearing his stupid white shirt and jeans and brown jacket. Just like the day he came chasing after Henry when Henry thought to run away from him.

The only difference is that he's practically see though despite his body being present and his eyes are no longer brown, but just plain white. His smile is still the same however, his voice melodic in tone as he speaks. "Baby."

"Alex…" Henry's breath returns to him as huddles like a bird seeking it's mother into Alex's personal space and while it feels like a down blanket surrounding him, heavy and thick and slightly suffocating, he doesn't care as he holds onto the mist like form of his boyfriend as best he can, shaking. "You're here."

"That I am." Alex's laugh runs down Henry's back into his bones. "I can't believe you managed to actually summon a ghost. I'm kinda proud right now. I thought I was the person with wild ideas and a even worse mindset, as quoted."

"Shut up." Henry's voice is quiet and broken, just like how he feels inside as he grips Alex tightly, unwilling to let go. "We've only got an hour. I want to spend it being with you."

There's silence and a slight draft and Henry fears that Alex has suddenly gone and he'd gotten the summon completely wrong or that he's just batty and Alex was never there at all, but suddenly the lights flicker and the record player is spinning again. He hadn't even noticed that the song had come to an end before, but he knows it's Alex's doing as he feels his arms being lifted to encircle the sadly smiling ghost's neck, just like before.

Just like he did so long ago now.

Henry knows Alex isn't fully there, that he isn't as tangible as he was in life and the book that contained the ritual had warned him so, but he can't help but rest his forehead against his, the feeling almost pleasant despite the slight panic that comes at not feeling Alex breathe against him or from out of his nose or mouth as they stare into each other's eyes.

"I've missed you." Alex is the one who breaks first, sounding a little too starstruck for someone who wasn't breathing.

"I missed you more, dear." Is how Henry responds back and while Alex makes a small head shake as if to say to him that it was debatable, they don't disconnect from the other, bodies as close as they can get within the circle without damaging it or themselves.

If even a part gets rubbed out, this will be over. Alex will disappear and Henry will be alone once again. He know inevitably that will be the case as an hour is an hour, but for now, he has time and he's taking every advantage of it he can while he has it.

Even if it is just dancing with his boyfriend in his pajamas.

"I wondered what would have happened if we had did this on our wedding day." Alex muses and Henry chokes on a sob combined with laughter. "People would be throwing cake at us because we'd be too gross and sweet."

"I'm pretty sure your mother would have made sure that our wedding would have been as cake free as possible." Henry lets himself continue the joke and while it stings from being so bittersweet as they hadn't made it to that day, he can let himself dream. "It also would have been some god awful color mixed in with the white. Knowing you, you would have insisted on using Mexico's flag is inspiration."

"Hey, at least I'm proud of my roots!" It was obviously meant in slight protest than it was in jest, but nevertheless, they both grin, tears starting to drip from four sets of eyes as they kept going. Where would we've had our honeymoon? How many kdis did we want? What names would they have had? What would they have become?

All the questions they hadn't got to answer. All the pages of history that they wanted to make and never got to write. It's a lot to put into a time limit, but somehow, he and Alex do, making up stories as they go along that make thm laugh and cry and grin like loons.

Henry knows when time is starting to creep up on them as Alex starts to feel less like velvet and more like smoke, the feeling akin almost to like sand slipping though his fingers as the digital clock starts winding down the seconds, the clicks feeling like gunshots piercing though Henry's heart as he stands there, breathing becoming shaky. "Please don't leave me."

"You know I have no choice in that, sweetheart." It's not "baby", as Alex seemingly knows that will break him fully, but it's enough to make him still double over as he clings to the last solid parts of Alex that are still left, Alex catching him as they crumble to the ground and and cradling him in his arms that sadly feel lighter than only moments before.

"Hen, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm not going anywhere without you, ever." Alex's words wash over him like the ocean does back home and he's barely able process them as Alex's lips touch the crown of his head feather lightly. "Don't ever forget that, okay?"

"How can I be happy without you?" It's rude to respond to a question so pointedly asked with another question, especially one that he wishes now they had answered during the rest, but it's the only answer he wants, that he needs. "How, Alex? I can't ever be if you go now."

"You will be, Hen." Alex assures and he sounds so confident of himself that Henry almost believes him. "You will be happy again. It'll take time, but I'll be right here beside you though everything, forever waiting on you even though you can't see me."

Henry can feel it before Alex's says anything, the change in the air night to day as the eerie blue glow that had spotlighted them in the room starts to pull out of the salt and fade away, the darkness that the lone candle can't reach starting steep into the circle as Alex turns his face towards his, Henry staring up at features now barely there. "Gotta go now, hun."

"Kiss me goodnight?" Henry's request is simple and it feels like aeons before he's inhaling acidic taste in his mouth from breathing in the last remnants of the man he loves, before he gently pulls away and rests near Henry with a lovesick smile. "Goodbye, baby."

"Goodbye, love." Henry doesn't know how he can look at him like that, but Alex, dear sweet Alex, stares for a good moment after they speak for the last time, a spector just in the room without meaning before he fades away fully, the room warping back into shape and making Henry curl into a ball as he rocks himself in place, head in his knees as the lights fades out.

Tomorrow morning he'll wake to another cold day in the middle of the city, just like the days before it, but now, Henry has a reason to try and enjoy them for what they are, as Alex said he was with him always.

He's going to be holding him to that.