TPASD16
Alex all but collapsed into Henry's arms when he found his way to the waiting room an hour and a half later. He was tired, mentally and physically exhausted. Shaan was dozing upright on the small burnt orange chair, his head tipped back, resting against the wall behind him. Catherine was reading a small reader's digest book she had found in the waiting room and Henry had still been pacing.
"They haven't intubated her yet, but she is now sedated." Alex told them in a muffled voice from where his face was pressed into Henry's neck. "They're going to hold off on intubating her for the moment."
"That's great news, Alex." Henry murmured into his ear. Looking up, Henry caught his mother's confused gaze. "We really don't want her intubated at all, unless they have to. I know you were really hesitant on that point, love."
Pulling back, Alex gave Henry a weak smile. "I'm a lawyer, I fight for a living. Did you really think I was going to give in so suddenly?"
"Of course not, love." Henry chuckled. Alex's rhetorical question made Henry chuckle. Even though it didn't require an answer because anyone who had ever met Alex Claremont-Diaz would know what the answer would be. Henry imagined there are quite a few law professors who would remember Alex in equal parts of fondness and frustration. "It's not in your DNA to back down from a fight, Alex."
"Right, well ... I came out here to retrieve my cell phone and your sorry ass." Alex mumbled to Henry, before speaking clearer. "Hen, do you wanna see your favourite girl for a minute? Then, I am sending you both home. You all need rest. It's really late ... or early, depending how you look at it. Gabriella and I will be fine without ya'll on standby. I appreciate you wanting to be here Hen, but please don't argue with me."
"Alex, please." Henry begged anyway. Truthfully, it wasn't a conscious decision to argue with Alex. He wanted to stay and be there for both of them. He knew Alex was only thinking of his mental well-being. "Let me stay, I'll send mum and Shaan home. All the PPOs, except one. I'l..."
"Hen, sweetheart, you're exhausted." Alex told him, his hand finding Henry's and clasping it together. "Ho back to that palace of yours and get some decent sleep. The storm outside isn't as angry as it has been."
"Fine," Henry conceded. Admittedly, he did need some sleep. Henry also knew something that Alex did not. His sister June, and her wife would be landing at Heathrow airport in a matter of hours and his mother had already organised for her equerry Rose to fetch them with Stuart, Henry's personal driver.
Giving Alex a soft sleepy smile, Henry grinned wider to himself on the inside. In the ninety minutes since Henry had left him, he had spoken to June a further three times. He had given June his personal number, with the instructions to call him as soon as Rose and Stuart had them on their way to KP.
June, worried about Alex's exhaustion and lack of sleep had already expressed her sisterly concerns to Henry. Henry seconded June's concerns and Nora carried the motion, too. June and Nora were planning to send Alex home from the hospital as soon as they could and June had personally tasked Henry with the job of making her brother get some food and some sleep.
"Catherine would you like to come too?" Alex asked, seeing the slightly disappointed look on her face. He felt guilty. She had been nothing but kind, loving and supportive of both him and his daughter and this was how Alex was repaying her. Plus she had given him some physical comfort and support when he had needed it. The kind of comfort and support that only a son could get from his mom.
"Thank you, Alex." Catherine murmured. She was tired too, and exhausted. She was thanking her lucky stars, named Rose, that she didn't have anything scheduled today. When the forecast for the nasty storm came through yesterday, Rose had cancelled the next three days worth of engagements for her.
Alex lead them, with Shaan trailing behind them, out of the waiting room and into the double doors to the left of them that read. Paediatric Intensive Care Unit. Alex nudged Henry reminding him that they had to scrub in the same way they had to when she was in the NICU. Henry showed Catherine how to do it and the beaming smile on Alex's face left Henry feeling all lit up inside.
"She's over here, in bed twenty-two." Alex told them, leading them to the bank of beds, just off to the right from where they entered and scrubbed in.
Henry managed to silence his gasp, his hands finding Alex's hips and leaning over his shoulder to peer into the small crib that housed the sleeping, sedated Gabriella. His heart broke and ached at the sight of Alex's girl sleeping, wires coming off her chest, oxygen cannula in her nose, IV lines in her arms. Tears were slipping down his face and he didn't even notice until his mum was handing him a tissue and rubbing his back to comfort him.
One look back over his shoulder at Henry sobbing and Alex started crying too. For some inexplicable reason, in his professional life, most of the time could keep his tears at bay while someone else was crying. However, in his personal life, he had never done well with other people tears and unfortunately, that was one thing that hadn't changed with age. It was always like a chain reaction. If someone he loved, or cared about was crying, he would cry too. His father had always told him that being empathetic was what made a lawyer.
"Oh Alex, love." Catherine murmured, enveloping him and her son her warm embrace. Alex inhaled deeply, committing the comfort to memory. He was hot on the skin where Henry's hands touched him and the comforting smell of jasmine and honey invaded his nostrils. "She's going to be OK. She's going to get through this because she's strong. You're strong."
Within that moment, the words Nora had once said to him about bisexuality came back to him, in a flash. 'Bisexuality is a rich and complex tapestry.' Truer words had never been spoken. Especially when it was Henry's touch spurring him on and the smell of Catherine's perfume comforting him. Granted, it was a maternal comfort and he didn't think of her in a sexual manner. It was simply the contrast of a woman's sensory touch against a man's touch that had prompted the memory for Alex.
Pulling back from the embrace, Alex was grateful that his small blush would be hard to see on his brown skin. The memories of Nora's words running through his head and the thought of Nora mentally being by his side was a comfort too. He had missed her. He missed June. "Did you get a hold of June?" He asked, softly.
"Yes." Henry answered for his mother. Catherine relayed June's message about Nora searching for flights and Henry worried that Alex knowing that much would ruin the surprise he had in store for Alex. "I imagine it will take them a day or two to their flights organised and whatnot."
When June had phones back with their arrival times, Henry had taken over from Catherine. Eager for June to see a face she would at least recognise. "Thank you." Alex sobbed softly. Neither Henry nor Catherine called him out on it. "But I need you both to go and get some sleep."
"OK, we'll go." Henry replied. He knew that Alex wanted them to rest that he didn't need to be worrying about their well-being, as well as Gabriella's. "But if there's any drama and you can't get hold of me, call Shaan."
"I put my personal number in your phone too." Catherine informed Alex in a whisper. "If you need to talk, please use it. I am here for you."
The thing about the British press was that they were brutal. They were still waiting when Henry and Catherine left St. Mary's hospital several hours later. The paparazzi were still waiting too. Sometimes Henry wondered if the paps could outstay a sniper, laying in wait for their target. As one of the most photographed members of the royal family, he certainly felt like he was their target sometimes.
Shaan and their PPOs did a good job of getting them to the car safely, but not sight unseen. Henry feared the media would jump to conclusions about his sister, based on the fact that it had been his mum and he photographed, with Bea nowhere in sight.
Arriving back at the palace, Henry spoke to Shaan and informed Shaan of his wish to be notified once June's flight had landed; whatever the time may be. "Shall I have a small press briefing ready to the press secretary?" Shaan asked Henry, as they were wrapping up their briefing. "The press saw the ambulance leave the palace. They didn't see you or Catherine walk in, but I am positive that they saw the two of you leave."
Shaan was skirting around the issue at the heart of his concern. While Shaan is employed by the Crown as Henry's equerry, his loyalties lie with Henry, as a person. Shaan had known Henry since he was ten years old. He had watched the man grow up from a pre-teen into the man he is today. He had seen Henry through heartache and heartbreak, grief, elation and everything else that comes with witnessing a boy grow into a man. Shaan had been the first person Henry had come out to. Granted Henry hadn't even been planning on coming out to him, it had just sort of happened. But Shaan had helped him, and guided him. He had helped him come out to his mother in the years since his father's death. Also, he had coincidentally been the one Henry had confided in first, about his feelings about Alex. Not that it had been really a confession as such; Henry had just uttered "Isn't he the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life?" under his breath, and Shaan had happened to be standing beside him.
Shaan had been taken aback by Henry's boldness, although Henry had what one could describe as "an inordinate amount of casual sex" when he had been at Oxford. With the help of his therapist, Henry had confessed he had been using casual sex as a coping mechanism for his grief. But Shaan had never heard ever describe any man or conquest of his, as 'beautiful'. That was when Shaan had begun to see the signs of Henry feeling like Alex might be more than a crush or a passing fancy. Then there were the more overt signs. Henry's head was always in the clouds and the budding friendship he shared with his new friend was filled with flirts and latent innuendos.
Naturally, Pez had clocked Henry and his crush and from that moment on, Henry went into a constant state of blush. The fact that it hadn't taken much to clock his friend's feelings hadn't said a lot to the philanthropic billionaire. In hindsight though, Pez had admitted that if he had known about Henry's feelings for the shelter's lawyer before Alex applied for the job, he would never have offered Alex the job. Despite his reputation proceeding him. What Pez would have done, and mourns the fact he was robbed of the opportunity is, he would have done everything in his power to make sure Alex and Henry's paths crossed, as often and as frequently as possible.
"Prepare a small statement. No names or specifics. Just simply a guest at the palace was feeling unwell, is on the mend and resting in hospital." Henry instructed Shaan carefully. Henry would do everything in his power to protect those he loves and cares about from the press, and from his grandmother's wrath. "Protect Alex and Gabriella's privacy above it all. Oh, and if Buckingham calls for me, avoid the phone."
"I will do my very best." Shaan sighed, softly. Henry knew as well as he did, calls from Buckingham palace were never to be ignored. Requests for meetings or dates for Henry was never to be refused, either.
Henry nodded his thanks to Shaan and headed for his apartment within the palace. He could feel how tired he was in his bones. Wearily tired. But equally worried. About Alex and about Gabriella.
"Have you lost your damn mind?!" Philip screamed at him, throwing a vase against the wall beside the door that Henry just walked through, narrowly missing Henry's head. Henry looked down to see a the priceless Anne Boleyn vase in shatters at his feet. Philip had been laying in wait for Henry to return from the hospital. "Calling an ambulance to the palace in the middle of the fucking night! It's attention-seeking at its best."
"Hello to you too, Pip." Henry greeted him drily. "It's still rather late for you, isn't it? What are you doing here?"
"Why don't you just shut the hell up for once?" Pip snapped at his brother, seething mad. "Did you really think that Gran and I wouldn't find out about the excitement here tonight? You really are naive, Henry. No wonder why Gran thinks she needs to have you under constant heavy surveillance. You're the weak link of our family; you always have been. Father may have mollycoddled you as a child, but I certainly won't be. It's time for you to stand up and become a man, not the fucking coward you are!"
"Philip Arthur Charles Andrew Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, just who do you think your talking to?!" Catherine asked him, raising her voice in anger at her eldest son. "I have told you time and time again to treat your siblings with respect."
"Mother," He greeted her coolly. "Do you even know what Henry has done? He had an ambulance called to the palace causing a media frenzy. Do you what they're saying online? That Beatrice has overdosed and we are hiding her demise and death. Then he had the gall to be photographed leaving the hospital looking entirely dishevelled and of all things, unprincely. He is a laughing stock to our family and our brand, Gran and I will not tolerate it any longer."
"For your information dear son, I was the one who ordered Beatrice to call the ambulance, Henry wasn't even there when I made that decision." Catherine informed him, keeping a haughty tone; much like the one Philip had given her. "Secondly, I was with Henry when he left the hospital, or did you just simply choose not to see me in the photos too. After all, sometimes one's mind will change the situation to fit the narrative. Before you answer, it will do you well to remember that it's something you have been doing you whole life and I am your mother, I know you."
Philip said nothing, choosing to stay quiet and stew in his own anger. Philip wanted to huff and puff, to smash something else. He was mad. He was angry. He needed Henry to be more like him, to make his life easier.
"Thirdly, dear child. Since when is it you and your grandmother's decision to parent my children? Do you need reminding that you are also one of my children?" Catherine asked, rhetorically. "Fourth and finally, I will say this only once. Leave. Henry. Alone."
"Or what, mother?" Philip exploded in anger. "You used to be so lost in your grief you couldn't see past the end of your nose. You left it me and gran to care for my siblings, and I myself was grieving. Grieving a man I knew longer than either of Henry or Beatrice. I think that should have entitled me to feel more grief than them. If it wasn't for gran setting me back on the straight and narrow, I could have gone off the rails. I really think that you should let gran deal with Henry."
"I am not letting my homophobic mother anywhere near my gay son." Catherine seethed in a low hiss. Her voice was laced with venom and anger. "You're his brother for Christ's sake, Philip. It is your job to protect Henry. Would you treat one of your sons' the way you're treating Henry?"
Philip was stunned into silence. Martha had strongly protested him driving in from Anmer Hall to Kensington Palace at this late hour. But when he and Martha had been in bed and he had been scrolling his own socials, seeing the photos; he had seen red. He had immediately gone on a verbal tirade about Henry making his life difficult. Martha had verbally berated him for his assumptions, but he had a feeling deep in his bone. He had just known. "Who was the guest?" He snapped at Catherine, momentarily forgetting his place in the line of the succession. "Who was this guest? The one that you both felt was important enough to tarnish our reputation with."
"Might I remind you Philip that you sit below me in the order of succession, therefore you answer to me? Not the other way around." Catherine hissed at her oldest son and his attitude. "As for the guest, it is none of your business. You do not own this palace. You do not even live here. I will allow you to stay here and get some sleep before returning home to your wife. Or perhaps you'd prefer to cobble up a bed with your gran at Buck. Either way, Henry and I are going to bed. Come along, Philip."
Catherine physically grabbed her son by his ear and escorted him towards the doorway. "Mother!" Philip whined, protesting to no avail. All his protests made Catherine want to shake some sense into him, but she didn't. "Be a dear, Henry and lock this door behind us." Catherine instructed him, not trusting Philip not to make a second run at Henry as soon as she released him from her grasp. "Let me know if you hear anything news, too."
With the snip of the door closing and the sounds of the lock tumblers sliding into place, Catherine released Philip in a huff of anger. "Ow," He whined once more, rubbing his ear.
"You are the future king of England, you do not treat anyone like that. Especially your own flesh and blood." Catherine warned him. "Am I clear?"
"You rule your way and I'll rule mine." Philip sassed his mother, before straightening himself up and leaning into her presence in an attempt to intimidate his mother. "I meant what I said, you need to let gran deal with Henry. We can send him away and when he returns, he will be the perfect heir."
"Absolutely not! If one of your sons' were gay, would you let your grandmother send them away to do that to them?" Catherine asked, not backing down from her son. Seeing Philip's expression momentarily falter, Catherine smirked. "I thought not. You might do with the benefit of realigning your priorities because I intend to fight my mother on this point.
"I am sorry, Mum." Philip backed down, looking at his mum. The woman that stood before him now wasn't the woman who had allowed her grief to consume her in the days and weeks after his father's death. The woman who stood before him was strong. She was powerful. She was the kind of woman he remembered from before their father got sick. She was the kind of woman, as a soldier, he would willingly follow into battle. "I will apologise to Henry too. And, I shouldn't have said the things I said about dad. Henry and Bea were his children too and they have an equal amount of grief to me."
"Thank you, Philip." His mother told him, holding her arms open for a hug. It was something that Arthur had always done with the kids. After an apology, there was the offer of a hug with no obligation for them to take it. Catherine had been able to read her son perfectly, she knew comparing Henry to his son would unlock something inside his brain.
"Sometimes, I feel like I wasn't as close to father, as Henry and Beatrice were." Philip confessed, as he walked with Catherine away from Henry's apartment, towards her own. "I understand his relationship with Beatrice more now that I am a father, myself. She was his little girl. But I always felt like like Henry and father had their own thing, separate of me. Like they were two sides of the same coin. They weren't just father and son, were they? They were friends?"
"They were." Catherine smiled. Arthur had adored poetry and writing. He had a social conscious too. Always actively campaigning for one great cause or another. He had been the inspiration for Catherine to pursue her conservation work with elephants in Botswana in the awakening from her grief stupor. "But so were you. He was comfortable in the spotlight; the star of screen, stage and sound. You're comfortable there too; but that's not Henry. You need to understand that. It's like with your eldest son Michael, he doesn't like anything on his toast including jam. Like you, whereas Peter, your youngest prefers marmalade like Martha. You have to accept both children as they are. You do not try to influence one child to be more like the other. They are individuals, Philip, not carbon copy cut-outs."
"Henry doesn't like the spotlight?" Philip asked, surprised. "He polls well with the commoners. People like him, he is affable. A little too much at times, but it is a trait that suits him."
"Henry is uncomfortable in the spotlight, he always has been." Catherine reiterated. "You need to respect that about him."
"Is it because he is gay?" Philip asked. His question had been serious, but had come off as rhetorical and Catherine was suitably annoyed. "There's gay people in the theatre, I thought all theatre folk like the spotlight.
"Go on, Philip. Go to bed and think about what I said, too."
Shaan shook Henry awake almost six hours later. "Sorry to wake you Your Highness, Mr Claremont-Diaz's sister and her wife will be arriving in the palace in half an hour."
"Thank you, Shaan." Henry dismissed him, reaching over to look at his phone. Alex had only sent him one update since he had left the hospital and it had been that the nurse had increased Gabriella's medication.
After showering and dressing in his princely armour; a suit and tie. Henry noticed that the storm outside had kicked into high gear and they were currently experiencing the deluge portion of the nasty storm forecast.
The dark grey sky and equally dull, wet ground matched his mood.
Seeing the car arrive, he strengthened his back – physically and mentally. It was still early and he had chosen to let his mother rest more, rather than wake her up. After all, she'd had to deal with Philip and his irate anger before going to bed.
"June, Ms. Claremont-Diaz-Holleran, welcome." Henry greeted them. June immediately going to him, leaving Nora to fuss with the staff and their bags.
"Your Royal Hi-"
"Henry, please." Henry interrupted her. June had not changed since the last time he had seen her. She reminded him of Alex, especially those curls of hers."Call me Henry."
"My wife's name is Nora." June smiled at the prince. She could see the dark circles under his eyes and hear the worry in his voice. Still running on adrenaline, she was eager for any news, anything really. The flight over had been torture and the wait was killing her. "Please tell me everything you know."
"Not here," He murmured, looking around. Palace staff and more than one that he knew was definitely his grandmother's croney. He had said things in front of certain palace staff in the past, and it had always made its way back to the queen. Henry had long suspected that his grandmother, and possibly his brother, had purposely had his own household staff spy on him. It doesn't help that one of them might have hid, but the results were going to be so delicious. "The walls have ears, this way ladies. I have taken the liberty of ordering us breakfast, we can talk in there."
Henry led them deeper into the palace and straight into the informal dining room off the kitchen between his and Bea's apartments. "This room is lovely." June murmured, looking around. A gold monstrosity of a frame caught her eye and Henry explained who this painting was to see if it was a similarity. to his real persona.
"Thank you. This is my informal dining room." Henry smiled at her, ushering them in. "You must simply see this. I have it on good authority that you're a fan of Frida Kahlo."
Henry led them over to the far wall by the window and showed the girls the artwork. It was one of the very few pieces he had purchased with his own money, dipping into the inheritance his father had left him. It depicted a small countryside village and Henry loved the calmness of the piece and the idyllic serenity he longed for in his life.
"Only one person loves that artist more than my wife and that's Alex." Nora added, as Henry led them to a piece of her work he had recently installed on the wall in his dining room. "How is he?"
"Alex is the one who introduced me to her work and I adore it." Henry smiled at June, who looked to be in awe of seeing the work, up close. "I gifted my grandmother one of Kahlo's pieces for her birthday last month." Henry confided in them.
The deliberate irony of gifting his homophobic and xenophobic grandmother a piece of Frida Kahlo's art was not lost on him. It had been exhilarating for Henry, and had felt just; given Frida Kahlo's legacy to the world. The fact that Frida Kahlo was a recognised figure in art history, but she was also regarded as an icon for Chicano's; an identity and worldview that combated structural racism, encouraged cultural revitalisation, and achieved community empowerment by rejecting assimilation for Mexican Americans. She was also an icon for the feminism movement, and the LGBTQ+ community. Her work has been celebrated internationally as emblematic of Mexican national and indigenous traditions and by feminists for what is seen as its uncompromising depiction of the female experience and form.
"I told her the piece reminded me of the hills of Ireland, a place special to her. Let's sit and eat. We can talk over breakfast."
Over the meal that he had personally requested for Alex's sister and his best friend, June's wife, Henry told them everything that had happened. Two thirds of their way through breakfast, Bea and Catherine joined them. Both women opting for cereal rather than a full breakfast.
"Have you heard from Alex this morning?" His mother had asked him as soon as she had entered the room, without so much as a good morning. Henry relayed Alex's only message and the future queen of England pursed her lips in thought. "After breakfast Henry, perhaps you should have Stuart take you and the ladies to the hospital to get an update in person."
"And you can take Alex back here to rest." June added to Catherine's suggestion. "I love my brother dearly, and I know he won't want to leave his daughter's side, but he needs some solid rest. I will stay with my niece until Alex has slept. I slept on the plane. Henry, you know Alex as well as I do. Do whatever you have to; to make him relax and sleep some."
Nora felt like she could have swallowed her own tongue. She didn't think that her wife June had realised how her words might be interpreted. The blush on Henry's cheeks confirmed Nora's theory that, that had been where the prince's mind had gone too.
"If Henry is taking Alex to bed, I am leaving." Bea moaned from where she had perched her self atop the bar stool at the breakfast bar.
"Beatrice!" Her mother admonished her. "I am certain that Ms Claremont-Diaz-Holleran did not mean it like that."
"Absolutely not." June defended herself, shuddering at the thought of thinking about Alex and bed in the same thought. "Henry knew what I meant."
But Henry could immediately see why Alex had found a friend in Nora. Her mind was like Alex's and that was like a balm for him. He hoped Nora and June would become his friends too. Unfortunately, in that moment, his mind had followed Nora's into the same territory.