This is it. This is the worst day of Henry's life.

Of course, it's a lot admitting that, given his entire life - but as he turns the handle on the pink coloured leading to Juniper's bedroom, he can't help but want to sink into the ground and never come back up for air.

Cancer. Their daughter has cancer. It's so…wrong.

Junie just started big school. She was barely a little girl, just turning 5 not even 3 months ago before all of this happened. She was still a baby. His and Alex's baby.

A baby that had no idea her whole life was about to change when Henry walked into that room and she spotted him, bounding over with string bracelets on her wrists from another normal day and colouring pages from being with Nora and June that afternoon in hand, grinning. "Papa, Papa, look what I made!"

Henry can't help but grin, even if he wants to scream.

Alex has already done the screaming. Lots of it. In the doctor's surgery that afternoon, on the way home and now, in their room where he was sure that the brownstone would be gaining some new wall decorations that he would have to fix. There's no fixing what they are up against right now, however.

Carefully, he picks her up like he would if he was helping her into their car and they sit on her bed, Henry struggling to find the words to say. She was so little. Would she even understand?

Junie however, sees right through him. Her brow furrows and her black curls still. "Papa? Are you okay?"

It takes him several minutes to figure out what to say and all of it tastes far too sweet on his tongue. In fact, it doesn't just make him sick, it burns. "Junie love, you remember when we went to the doctors the other day? When your tummy was hurting?"

"Yeah…?" Junie nodded, brown eyes staring up at him.

"Well, sweetheart, I…uh…" Henry starts, but the words choke him for a second before he can continue, because continue he must. "You see, darling, you have something growing in your tummy. That's why it's hurting."

"Like when Auntie June had me growing in her tummy?"

"No, love." Henry wants to vomit. Truly he does. "It's more like…it's more like a flower. The doctor's said to Daddy and me that you have a flower growing in your tummy, but it's not the type of flower that's supposed to be in there."

"Like Auntie Pez's when those mean people hurt his roses?" She looks like she's trying so hard to pay attention to every word he's saying. He hates it.

"Yes, dearest, like Auntie Pez and his roses." Henry picks her up again so that they are nose to nose. "Anyway, the doctors, who were just like the nice ones we saw when we went to the hospital the first time, they're going to make you sleep just a little bit and take the flower out."

"When, Papa?" Henry's already broken heart just breaks that tiny bit more. "Oh, very soon, I think." Actually in the next week, but he won't tell her that yet.

For some ungodly reason, despite all of this, she smiles up at him and it's like a punch in the face. "Will it take long, Papa? Abeulo's coming! Do you think after the doctor takes the flower, I can come back home?"

"Of course." If only it was that simple. Gods, if only it was. Even Alex asked if it would just be one operation in the midst of the haze he's currently in upstairs in their bedroom. The doctor hadn't lied to them, but Henry was lying to her and he knew it. "I'm sure everything will be fine, dearest and you'll have Abuelo all to yourself."

"You'll be there too, Papa, won't you?"

"Obviously." Spotting him out of the corner of his eye, Henry is under no illusion that even standing at the door, Alex looks wrecked. Haunted. As expected, his hand is bandaged on one side and covered in speckles of drywall on the other, but he makes no comment as he cheerily exclaims "I'm sure Abuelo will want to see Daddy too."

"Daddy!" Junie's little arms reach for him blindingly and Henry doesn't know how, but Alex lets her sink into him like he's her new favourite toy, mumbling "Mi princesa, mi princesa…" into her hair while his eyes stare at Henry, pleadingly. Thankfully, Henry knows his husband all too well.

"Daddy's very tired, darling, but he really wanted to see you." He lifts himself from her bed and takes Alex's undamaged hand as he takes her from him, holding her on his side. "Why don't you colour in a picture for Daddy and we can give it to him before bedtime?"

"Okay!" She wiggles out of Henry's grasp and is quickly back at her little white desk, engrossed in her stacks of books and paper, oblivious to both her fathers as Henry leads Alex out into the hallway only for the other man to plows his face into his chest, weeping.

Henry, to his credit, holds him as his own tears that he's been holding slip into Alex's hair as the sun starts to set on the New York skyline outside. He wants to say it'll be okay, as Alex has said so many times to him when he was hurting, but he finds it meaningless right now.

Instead, he simply tightens his grip, allowing the weight of his sorrow to blend with the warmth of their shared moment. The vibrant hues of orange and purple cast a soft glow in the room, illuminating the unspoken bond between them—a sanctuary amidst the chaos of loss. In that quiet space, surrounded by the fading light, Henry lets out a shaky breath, realising that sometimes words are not enough. Instead, he whispers a promise into the silence: "I'm here."

For now, that is all they need, other than a miracle.