Chapter Text
Now (July 2020)
Henry absolutely should’ve known better. He knows what Alex is going to say when they’re in the lake, and he knows, better than everyone apparently, that nothing can come from it. Henry thought he and Alex were on the same page with that—clearly they were not. Or they were until Alex seemingly changed his mind.
And perhaps that is the case. Alex, his beautiful Alex, who is fearless and not willing to concede when he wants something. That will never be Henry. There’s so much for him to lose, and as badly as he wants, he can’t let himself have it. Maybe Henry is a coward, but he fears if he gives any more of himself away, Henry Fox will cease to exist. Self preservation, he decides, and Henry likes the sound of that much better.
So he leaves in the middle of the night. Henry does at least leave a note. Alex’s friendship is far too important to him to not. If he can’t have Alex fully, he’d still like to be in his life in some capacity. Hopefully Alex can forgive him one day. He’s done it once, and Henry hopes that their…relationship is worth enough for Alex to stick around.
Alex,
Had to go early for a family matter. Left with the PPOs.
Didn’t want to wake you.
Thank you for everything.
X
Alex knows him so well, and Henry is a little worried that he’ll see right through it. Henry has always been so transparent. Well, he thought he was. After the whole New Years fiasco at least. And perhaps he was, maybe that’s how Alex had the confidence to share his feelings, because he knew Henry loves him too. Everyone else seems to know, and Alex certainly isn’t an idiot.
Henry does wish he could’ve said it back. Alex absolutely deserves to hear it—he deserves to know that he is the great love of Henry’s life, and no one will ever compare. Henry will never get over Alex, he’ll never love another, and isn’t that just a tragedy? He thinks briefly of Empire , and Alex’s love for it. A hopeful ending, not the happiest, and Henry hopes Alex sees this as the same. Now he can go out and live freely, now he won’t be trapped in the closet of Henry’s situation’s making. Alex can be loved the way he deserves.
So Henry goes into his cocoon. He can’t bear to think about Alex, about the possibility of having him. It’s rather difficult to even consider reading his messages. And boy does he send messages. Texts flood his phone, so many that Henry considers blocking him, but the thought is banished almost as quickly as it surfaced—he could never. When Henry doesn’t respond, the emails start.
It’s all begging. Well, at first it’s begging. Alex wanting to know what happened, asking where he is and why he’s not answering. The begging turns to demanding, and Henry’s heart aches. It’s never hurt like this, when his father died, that was painful, but he’d known it was coming. This is completely different. He thought he had more time . He was mistaken, and perhaps he’d been foolish and mistaken from the very beginning.
The last text is simple and so final, and Henry’s heart which had slowly been cracking under the barrage of messages shatters.
Alex
alright you win. i can tell when i’m not wanted and i’m not going to keep begging
have a good life henry
Henry has meetings to attend, he’s been keeping himself as busy as possible, but there’s no way he can attend. Instead, he tells Shaan to inform his gran and Philip that he’s sick. Henry curls up in bed and lets himself cry for the first time in a long time. Clutching the sheets tightly in his hands, sobs wrack his body as he mourns. He’s shaking, practically writhing in the grief, and he’s holding on so tightly that his hands ache. Henry’s not sure he’ll ever recover from this, and eventually, he falls asleep, face still wet from the tears, head pounding from the sobs.
Then (August 2016)
The Olympics are…unbearable. Henry is barely holding it together. There’s so many eyes on him—more than he’s gotten used to at Oxford. He’s got eyes on him there too of course, but the students provide a little more discretion at least. Here he’s thrust back in the public eye violently, at the whim of his gran and his brother. The latter of whom is becoming more and more unbearable every day.
Henry is exhausted, but his body and brain won’t let him sleep. He feels physically heavy with grief, and Christ, everyone that starts a conversation with him at this blasted event opens it up with condolences. Henry’s not sure how much more of this he can take. By the time he’s approached by the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life, Henry is overstimulated and has a headache, and he needs to be alone.
He knows who this boy is, of course he does. Alex Claremont-Diaz, a media sweetheart. He’s beautiful on the screen of Henry’s phone, and somehow he’s even more beautiful in person. Standing in front of Henry smiling with hope shining in his eyes, Henry might throw up. He hasn’t felt hope in so long. So he sticks his foot in his mouth because Henry knows if he lets himself have something like this, it will destroy him.
Alex spins away with a huff, the hope long gone. Henry catches a glimpse of disappointment and anger in his eyes instead. He recognizes those emotions—that’s often what he sees when he looks at his gran. And more lately, Philip. Frankly, Henry is going back to Oxford in a few days, and Alex won’t be there. Another person disgusted with him will be the least of his problems.
Now (July 2020)
Henry wakes with a jolt. There’s crying coming from somewhere, he’s not sure where. In fact, he’s not entirely sure he’s not dreaming because it sounds like a baby, and that’s something he definitely doesn’t have. Nor does anyone else in his family or their staff. But the crying doesn’t stop. His eyes are crusty from the tears, and he rubs them. The crying still doesn’t stop. That’s when he sees it—the crib in the corner of his room. A crib he’s never seen in his life.
Climbing out of bed, Henry slowly crosses the room. The one thing that convinces him this isn’t some fever dream is David pacing in front of the crib making soft wounded noises. He knocks his head into Henry’s ankle as Henry peeks into the crib. It’s a baby, well, obviously, but…why the hell is there a baby in his room.
Henry’s knowledge of babies is very limited. He knows to support the head, so he picks them up, cradling them carefully against his chest. The crying, thankfully, slows to a stop nearly instantly. The baby blinks up at him, and Henry stares right back. They’ve got familiar blue eyes and startlingly dark hair for a baby this small. Henry’s stomach hurts as he imagines the baby growing up to have dark curls.
“Where did you come from, darling?” Henry asks quietly, stroking two fingers over the baby’s head, back and forth. The baby doesn’t answer, and Henry looks away for a second, long enough to see there’s a paper in the crib. That’s when it hits him. Like a bolt of lightning. It’s a wish baby.
Admittedly, Henry doesn’t know much about wish babies—they exist, but they’re rare. In fact, he was mostly under the impression that wish babies were an urban legend until now. Now that he’s literally staring at one. The paper is supposed to have both his and whoever the other parent’s names on it. And Henry doesn’t have to guess.
Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Alexander Claremont-Diaz
He’d be happier if he hadn’t just royally fucked up this baby’s life before it even really began. Henry’s never given much thought to children—if he’d have them or even how he’d have them. This life is not exactly one he’s eager to force someone else into, especially his child. He supposes he’s got no choice now.
The paper also says the baby is a girl. Henry’s heart aches staring down at her. The paper falls back into the crib, and his eyes water again. Henry’s not sure how he’s got more tears left to cry. “Hello, little love,” He says. “What are we going to do with you, hm?” She smiles, all gums, and Henry’s heart skips a beat. Christ. He doesn’t know where to start, and absentmindedly, Henry wonders if Alex would.
Perhaps he should start in the library. Surely they’ve got some literature on wish babies somewhere in it. He’ll have to take the baby with him, he’s far too worried something will happen while he’s gone if he were to leave her alone. So he readjusts her and walks to the door carefully, doing his best not to jostle her.
Bea is gone on a trip their gran scheduled until morning, and it’s so late most of the staff has gone home or is asleep. This is about as alone as Henry will get. He grabs a blanket and carries her down the hall and a flight of stairs, around a corner, all the way to the library. The baby stares at him the entire time, cooing quietly. It should be fine to set her down—Henry squats, spreading the blanket as best he can with one hand. He folds it once, a little extra padding, and lays her down on her back. “I’ll be right back, darling.”
The library is sorted with history and reference books near each other. Henry’s not sure what he’s looking for, but he’s too scared to search about wish babies on his phone. It’s entirely too possible someone will see his search history, and the thought of anyone knowing about her before he’s ready to share her with them is horrifying.
He scans book spines to find something that might be helpful, glancing back at the baby every few titles just to make sure she’s still doing alright. She seems happy, not crying at least, so Henry keeps looking. He’s on the third row when he finds something— Soulmates: A History and Myths Behind the Phenomenon. That feels right. Potentially. Henry tugs it out of its spot and walks back over to the baby. He lifts her up, back into his lap, and Henry opens the book to the chapter titles. Sure enough, wish babies, though the passage is not very descriptive.
Wish Babies
Babies born from a wish rather than from sex. The few recorded instances indicate that the wish can be subconscious or conscious. All it takes is one partner of the two to wish for the baby, and they shall appear.
Historians and scientists conclude that wish babies only exist to soulmate pairs—simply being together is not enough. The feelings must also be requited for the baby to appear.
Wish babies are unrelated to sex, gender, and sexuality. A certificate will arrive with the baby naming the two parents, and the baby will be genetically related to both parents. No one can decide why or how they think wish babies exist—scientists and philosophers have been debating for years. The most popular belief is that it’s the universe acknowledging two soulmates.
And that’s enough of that. Great. Bloody fantastic. Henry thought he had a decent grasp on himself, but apparently he’s been wanting a baby with Alex. Subconsciously. To be fair, he’s always known deep down that he wants a future with Alex. He also knows it’s not possible. Henry just didn’t know that his yearning would turn out like this. Not that he regrets it—as much as he probably should.
Closing the book with a small slam, Henry huffs. He brushes a finger over her forehead as she smacks her lips. “I’ll take care of you, little one.” He stands and grabs the blanket, not bothering to put the book away. “It’s you and me.”
The thing is, Henry tries to act in the people around him’s best interest at all times. He thinks Alex may disagree, but everything he does, it’s with others in mind. The ones he loves most of all. Henry was born in a golden cage melded by centuries of blood and history. While his father was alive, the door was open, but the second he passed, the door slammed shut. Henry would never want to trap Alex in that cage.
Alex has ambitions, he wants to be someone and make a difference. He’s working on his mum’s election campaign and doing incredible things in the world. But he also wants to go public. Alex is Henry’s beautiful idealist. He thinks that one day Henry will be free. He thinks he can have it all. Alex thinks that Henry could have it all. But that’s never been the case. Henry has to be the realist for both of them. All Henry has ever wanted is to truly be a dreamer. Alas, that has not been his lot in life.
Henry knows that as long as his mum is lost in her grief, his gran won’t die—seeming to keep kicking on spite and hate alone—, and as Philip keeps following in her footsteps he’ll never be free. Not like Alex has the chance to be. So Henry makes the decision for him, and he hopes it’s early enough for Alex to have a cleaner break than he will. Then the baby shows up.
Now he has another person to think about. He can’t expose her to the world, and he can’t tell his gran. Henry certainly can’t do this alone either, so he needs to be strategic about who he lets in. Alex should know, but…Alex doesn’t particularly want to hear from him. Ellen is also in the midst of a re-election, and Henry won’t let their child be something that Alex could possibly have contempt for if she were to affect the outcome of the election. He won’t let their child be a political pawn either. Henry decides to wait. The election is in November, and as soon as it’s over, he’ll reach out. Until then, he’ll take care of their baby alone.
Then (September 2019)
The original text had been a joke about the rumors, but Henry is genuinely curious. He shouldn’t ask, it's a temptation he usually doesn’t allow himself. Henry knows the answer could possibly fuel his fantasies for the future, but he wants to know Alex as best as he possibly can.
Alex
Jokes of scandalous pregnancy with random women aside, have you ever considered having children one day?
jesus. i don’t know, i mean. my parents fucked me up obviously lmao and it’s scary the thought of being able to do that to a child someday.
maybe with the right person? what about you
I’m not sure I’d like to bring a child into this life. Maybe if things were different.
if it makes you feel any better, i think you’d be a fucking awesome dad, H. like you’d love them the way they deserve, and i think they’d have a better time in the monarchy than you did yk?
That’s a low bar, wouldn’t you agree?
LMAO fair. yeah i think i do want kids. but not anytime soon. maybe i should go to therapy first or something. work through all the baggage and trauma and shit.
Henry wishes he could be Alex’s right person. He can’t, obviously. But he still wants.
Now (July 2020)
Henry tells Shaan the next morning, and that’s who gets everything in order for him. She needs to be registered, she needs to see a doctor, they need to buy things to take care of her, and possibly most intimidating, she needs a bloody name. Henry’s at a bit of a loss, and he wonders if Alex has strong feelings about names. Probably so, most of his feelings are strong.
“You’ve got approximately thirty minutes to think about it,” Shaan informs him before pulling the door shut for Henry to get dressed. The baby is awake, she’s blinking up at him and waving one of her little hands in the air. She’s so precious that Henry’s heart aches. Typically he’d get dressed up a bit for meeting others, as is normally required, but he figures these circumstances call for joggers and a sweater. One of his dad’s old sweaters. It’s soft with age, and he thinks it’ll be comfortable to hold the baby against.
She’s in pajamas, and as soon as Henry’s determined his hair is fine for the day, he lifts her carefully out of the crib. He bounces her, watching the way her face changes as he thinks. She’s expressive, even for her age, something she surely has gotten from Alex. Christ, she’s going to be a mini Alex plaguing Henry for the rest of his life. He can’t wait.
“Nicola,” Henry decides. “Little baby Nico.” She makes a little noise, but she doesn’t cry, so Henry figures that’s acceptance enough. He squares his shoulders and tilts his chin up slightly before making his way to the door. Bea is home, and he assumes since she hasn’t shoved her way into his room yet that Shaan hasn’t briefed her on the situation yet. David follows on his heels, knowing breakfast is in his near future. Breakfast and a delivery of baby items if Henry were to guess.
Bea’s already in the dining room when Henry enters, holding a cup of steaming tea. Her breakfast is half-eaten on the plate next to her elbow, and she’s flipping through a newspaper with her free hand while humming under her breath. It’s such a normal sight, and Henry almost feels like he’s going insane because this is decidedly not a normal situation.
She senses Henry before he can say anything, glancing up with a smile for a second, then she goes back to the paper. Henry waits, clears his throat, and then she freezes, setting her tea down with her eyes still fixed on the newspaper before slowly moving them back to fix on Henry this time.
“Christ alive, Hen.” She pushes to her feet, robe swirling around her legs. “Is that a bloody baby? A real one?”
As if somehow Henry has acquired a fake baby sometime in the middle of the night. But he gets it. It’s still all surreal to him as well.
“Meet Nico.” Bea crosses the room quickly, hand reaching out instinctively before she pauses, hovering over Nico’s face. Henry nods, giving permission, and she brushes a finger over Nico’s forehead. “She just…appeared last night.”
“A wish baby?” Bea asks. Her mouth falls open slightly when Henry tips his chin down in silent confirmation. “I didn’t know they were actually real.”
Henry huffs out a laugh and moves over to a chair to sit down. He’s suddenly exhausted, more than he’s felt in a long time. Which is saying something considering the insomnia. “Neither did I. But apparently they are, and the universe has decided that I could use the extra worry.”
“She’s precious, Hen.” She is. Henry already adores her, and he’s glad Bea seems to feel just the same. She sits back down across from him and props her chin on her hand. “Will you keep her hidden? Or do you plan to meet with Gran to fill her in.”
Henry’s stomach clenches at the thought—his anxiety rocketing up immediately. He can’t tell his gran, especially when he doesn’t know what she’ll command him to do about her. She’s made him suppress his sexuality for years, who knows if she’ll take Nico from him too. Henry can’t take that risk.
“She can’t know.”
Luckily, Bea agrees. She nods and purses her lips. “You need to get out of Kensington. Perhaps you should go to the cottage for a bit.”
The cottage is a good idea. It belonged to their father and is in the middle of nowhere. Everyone in the nearest town has signed the Crown’s NDAs, and have no real reason to sell him out to the Crown or to the media if they were to see Nico. The cottage is also the last place he truly remembers feeling happy. Well, before his relationship with Alex. Bea is right, he should go there and stay. The likelihood of his gran trying to track him down there is low.
“You’re right.” Nico makes a little noise, scrunching her nose, and Henry looks down, shifting her in his arms. She’s probably hungry if he has to guess, that or needs a diaper change. Neither of which he can do anything about for the time being. Not until Shaan returns. He strokes his finger up and down her face, cooing softly to relax her. It works, she settles, and Bea makes a noise. When Henry looks up at her, she’s got a soft smile on her face. “What?” Henry can’t help but ask.
“Nothing, just,” she pauses, choosing her words carefully. “You’re going to be a great dad.” Henry really really hopes so. His cheeks heat up a bit. “And you won’t be alone. You’ll have me, and Shaan, and Pez if you choose to bring him into it.” Henry’s glad she doesn’t bring up Alex. He can’t bear the thought at the moment. “We’ll make sure you guys are safe. I promise.”
That’s when Shaan returns. He’s got bags under his arms and a phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear. Henry can’t hear what he’s saying, more interested in the bags anyway. Bea helps him unpack them, laying all the items across the breakfast table after shoving her abandoned plate to the side to make room.
Diapers, bottles, and formula are the first things she pulls out. Henry feels himself settle a bit. He doesn’t know the first thing about feeding a baby or changing a diaper, but he’s confident he can figure it out. Now that he’s got all the supplies at least. There are also onesies, cloths, wipes, a carrier he can strap to himself, and a long wrap looking thing that Henry is already dreading having to figure out.
The third bag contains books—literature for new parents about milestones and what he needs and how to do all the things to take care of her. Studying is something Henry can do, something he’s good at even. He can read when she’s sleeping, and if he takes an extended break from his royal responsibilities, it’ll be a nice way to fill his extra time.
“Would you like me to brief Shaan on our plan?” Bea asks as Nico’s nose scrunches again. She starts crying, more in earnest this time, and Henry knows he needs to figure out what’s wrong. “We’ll see about moving you today, getting a pediatrician out to the cottage and rerouting any deliveries he made for here.”
“Alright.” Henry stands, grabbing the diapers and wipes. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Changing a diaper is not that hard to figure out, Henry’s glad about that. When he’s finished, she still hasn’t stopped crying, so he figures she must be hungry. He’s hungry too. Henry makes a detour to his room to grab the blanket he’d laid her on the previous night before carrying Nico back to the informal dining room to get the feeding supplies.
Bea and Shaan are gone, so he lays her on the kitchen floor while he washes a bottle and flips through the book to figure out how to prepare the formula. His stomach drops when the book says he should boil water and let it fully cool before letting her have some. That will take much longer than he expected. Nico has settled a bit, wiggling her arms at the ceiling, so Henry reaches for the kettle to start the process. It’s already warm to the touch, warmer than it should be, and Henry pauses, confused.
“Sir,” he jumps, whirling around to face Shaan who entered the kitchen without Henry noticing. “I boiled it fresh before leaving so you wouldn’t have to wait to feed her.” Henry blinks, heart still racing in surprise.
“Thank you, Shaan.”
He pours water into the bottle and scoops what the back of the formula can says is an appropriate amount in before putting the lid on to shake. It’s not too warm when he tests it on his wrist, so Henry squares his shoulders and drops down to the floor to lift Nico into his lap. It takes a few seconds to settle her, he’s still not fully used to holding a baby, and when she’s ready and fussing, Henry lifts the bottle to her mouth. Thankfully, she takes it immediately.
“Aw, Hen, look at her,” Bea coos. She sits next to Henry, pulling her knees to her chest and wraps an arm around her shins to hold them in place. Bea leans into Henry, pressing her shoulder against his, and props her free hand on the floor to hold them both up as Henry sags against her. Nico keeps sipping quietly in his lap. “She’s taking the bottle like a champ.”
Henry huffs out a laugh as Nico slurps, and he tilts the bottle up a bit more for her. “She is. A professional, truly.”
“A professional at being a baby?” Bea asks, teasing. “I should hope so.” Then she tilts her head to rest her temple on top of Henry’s head. “We think we can get you a car out to Wales by tonight. I think I’ll stay back just so we don’t tip anyone off that something’s going on.”
“Alright.”
“Shaan will accompany you for a bit, I think.”
Humming, Henry’s kind of relieved he won’t be fully alone. At least not at first. Not that Shaan has children of his own, but he’s practically watched Henry grow up, so he probably has more of a clue than Henry does. “Sounds good.”
Bea nods against the top of his head and kisses the top of Henry’s head. “You can burp her, and I’ll watch over her while you go pack.”
They’re out of the palace an hour later. Henry hopes he hasn’t left anything behind he desperately needs. He also tries very hard not to think about the hoodie of Alex’s that had slipped its way into his suitcase. It’ll be good for Nico to have is how he rationalized it to himself when he first grabbed it, and he fights back the pang of loneliness in his tummy at the realization that once Alex’s smell is gone, he won’t ever be able to get it back organically.
There’s a car seat for Nico that Shaan shows Henry how to use—strapping her is a bit complex. He’s glad he has to sit in the back for once because he wants to be able to see her throughout the entire drive. Shaan selected two of the longest tenured members of Henry’s security team to accompany them, and he’s in a second car behind them with most of Nico’s stuff packed away. David’s at Henry’s feet, fast asleep.
Luckily, Nico seems to enjoy the drive. She shrieks a bit, and Henry thumbs through his book on milestones. She’s clearly not a newborn, but he’s not certain how old she is. Hopefully, the doctor will be able to tell him when she’s finally checked over. Approximately two and a half hours into the drive, Nico needs a diaper change. They’re not far off from the cottage, so Henry gives her his finger to occupy her until they’re able to stop. It works.
He changes her diaper a second time on the kitchen table of the cottage. Philip would be horrified, but Henry doesn’t want to change her on the floor. He can certainly wipe down the table before supper, and by the time she goes next, he should have the changing table set. Shaan is already moving in and out of the cottage with the security teams, carrying in the packages.
“Sir,” Shaan calls, and Henry glances over his shoulder for a second before looking back to tape down the strips of the diaper. “Which room is to be Nico’s?”
Henry has actually put some thought into this. They all have rooms there, though he hasn’t been in his since he was a child. “Philip’s room will do.” That way if Philip wants to crash the party when he inevitably finds out about Nico to yell at Henry, he’ll be displaced. For Philip, someone who thrives on routine and regularity, it will be hell. Shaan’s lips twitch at the corners, he’s clearly caught onto Henry’s thinking, but he’s a professional, and the smile drops after a split second.
“We’ll move everything in, and I’ll go to the shops,” Shaan informs him. “Would you like anything particular?”
And this might be tough. Henry cannot cook to save his bloody life. He’ll have to learn. “Erm, the basics, I suppose.” He can research it later when Nico is asleep. Actually…Henry glances down at her, and she’s already asleep. Henry picks her up and brings her to his room without another word. He lays on his old bed, carefully as to not jostle her, and props her on his chest, rubbing a hand slowly and gently up and down her back. Her sleepy snuffles are adorable, and Christ, it’s been less than a day, but Henry would kill for her.
When Nico wakes up from her nap, she’s hungry. Henry fixes a bottle with some of the water they’d brought from Kensington, and she takes it just as easily as the first one. He burps her again before settling her on the floor of her new nursery in a little playpen Shaan set up. Security is somewhere on the property, but Henry and Nico are alone in the house, and he starts putting together her furniture while Nico lays on her back and plays with one of the toys Henry unwrapped.
It’s peaceful, Henry in socks and sweatpants for once, an old sweater he hasn’t worn in forever, and the quiet sounds of Nico babbling to herself. She’s very chatty. Henry makes sure to speak to her too, telling her about what he’s doing and occasionally responding nonsensically to what he guesses she might be talking about. Once he’s got everything set up, his next goal is to make her laugh.
Shaan returns, he calls out to Henry that he’ll make supper for the two of them. Henry’s stomach growls, and he calls back, “Sounds wonderful, thank you, Shaan.”
He flips Nico onto her front for tummy time when he takes a break, fingers cramping from screwing everything together. It’s coming together, though the crib was particularly taxing. He’d managed though. Henry taps her nose that’s wrinkled, she doesn’t love being on her tummy apparently, but she’s not crying yet.
“It’s almost dinner time, darling,” Henry tells her. “What do you think Shaan is cooking?” She lets out a small squeal, and Henry hums. “I think so too.”
Shaan makes pasta, Henry’s favorite in particular. His eyes burn a little at the thoughtful gesture. Shaan fills David’s bowl and takes Nico while Henry sits to eat, bouncing her in the chair across from Henry. He hasn’t eaten since the quick breakfast he’d squeezed in before practically fleeing Kensington earlier that day. It’s delicious. Nico shakes the toy Henry brought with them, rattling it loudly to fill the silence.
“What would you like me to tell her Majesty if she calls?”
“I’ve fallen ill and am recuperating in the countryside,” Henry suggests. He pushes his sleeves to his elbows. “I highly doubt she’ll want to see me if I’m supposedly deathly ill. Bea will probably take care of Philip, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure as well.” Henry knows it won’t be so easy to escape, but for now it seems like they’ll be alright. For a little bit at least.
Then (May 2020)
“June is great,” Alex says. He sighs loudly into the phone speaker. “Sometimes she babies me a bit more than I really need though.”
“I understand,” Henry laughs. “Bea is rather overprotective herself.”
“Older sisters. But then Nora can be the same way. I don’t know, I feel like…” Alex trails off, and Henry can hear him moving around. He wonders if Alex is lying in bed like he is. Probably not, knowing Alex. “Nora and June know me better than pretty much everyone else in the world, they know my flaws and most of my mistakes. I think sometimes they feel, like, entitled to giving their opinions on everything I’m involved in, you know.”
Henry understands that too. “I think Bea overcompensates for when she was lost in her addiction sometimes.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to blame her, of course, it’s a disease. But I think she feels guilty for abandoning me, and sometimes it can be a bit stifling.” Henry shrugs though Alex can’t see him. “I don’t mind it so much. It’s nice to know someone in the family is on my side.”
“What about Pez?”
“Pez knows me in every way except biblically.” Alex laughs. “He loves to give unsolicited advice though.”
“Is it good advice at least?”
“Most times, I suppose. He truly only has my interests at heart, so his advice can be…treasonous, at times.”
“Oh fuck, I need to be part of these conversations from here on out. Make a group chat, baby.”
“You must know, I certainly will not. The last thing I need is the two of you ganging up on me.”
“I’d never.” He sounds scandalized, but Henry just rolls his eyes. “I can’t promise I wouldn’t also give treasonous advice though. To be fair, we fought and won our independence, it’s my god given right to hate the British.”
“Except for me, of course.”
“Well…”
Henry rolls his eyes. “You’re a menace. A thorn in my side, truly. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“My dick probably. My stunning personality, my curls, perhaps. Maybe even my ass.”
“Certainly not your mouth.”
“Let’s agree to disagree there.”
And, he’s sort of right. “I plead the fifth, is that how it goes?”
“Okay, H, talk dirty to me.” He moans so loudly into the phone that Henry’s ear is ringing.
“You’re a nuisance. Christ, Alex.”
Alex laughs again, and when he finally stops, they both stay quiet, just soaking in the company. “I know you’ve got Pez, but I’m always on your side too, you know?”
“I know.” Henry does know. His heart skips a beat. “And I, yours.”
Now (July 2020)
They’ve been at the cottage for a week and settled into a routine before it shatters. Not in the way Henry expected, at least. Bea calls him to let him know Alex had showed up at the palace, screaming it down in the rain for Henry. She’d sent him away, told him Henry was out of town. Henry’s a little surprised considering the last text Alex had sent him.
“I didn’t tell him where you were, though, Hen.”
It might’ve been easier ripping the bandaid off if she had. “Thanks, Bea.”
“You’re very welcome.” He hears another voice, muffled in the background, and Bea is whispering when she speaks again. “I’ve got to go, talk soon. Send more pictures of my baby niece, please.”
The pediatrician checked her over a few days previous and determined Nico to be a little over two months old for the official registration. Henry thinks back, two months ago in May when he first realized how deeply he was in over his head with his feelings for Alex. That bloody phone call two nights before Alex’s graduation where he confessed to Henry, amongst other things, that maybe politics isn’t the only thing he wants to do.
It makes sense, and Henry runs his finger back and forth over the skin between her eyebrows as he recalls it. The whole conversation was what originally prompted him to show up to the graduation party for the evening on a whim. It had been entirely worth it despite the shit show that followed. Henry, for all that he wishes things could be different, regrets absolutely nothing.
He’s on the couch with Nico on his chest doing tummy time as Bake Off quietly plays on the TV. Nico has her little rattle toy that she’s banging on Henry’s chest. It doesn’t hurt quite yet, but he knows from experience it will form a bruise eventually. Shaan is in his room, and the security team on duty is at the edge of the property, so Henry is entirely surprised when the door flies open without warning.
“Christ!” He cups his hand over the back of Nico’s head and sits up. And then the voice reaches him. He turns his head in disbelief. “Pez?”
“Haz,” the voice booms. He’s still in the entryway, and the door slams shut behind him. Henry can hear him toeing off his shoes. “Where have you been, you bloody devil? I’ve got three feisty Americans demanding to know if you’re alive. I had to practically pry it out of dear Beatrice–” Henry knows exactly when he steps into the room, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been able to silence Pez quite so effectively before.
“As you can see, I’m alive and well.”
“That’s a baby.”
Henry’s lips twitch. “Well spotted.”
Pez gapes. “Whose baby is that?”
“Mine.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I was not aware you were pregnant.” Pez claps three times, slowly. “Congratulations on your scientific miracle.”
Henry rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately, she was born entirely from my yearning, not from my anatomy.”
“A wish baby,” Pez breathes. He drops down on the couch next to Henry’s feet. “Alex’s, I presume.”
“You presume correctly.”
He holds his arms out, eyes wide. “Can I?” Henry passes her over easily, and Nico stares up at him with a gummy smile. “Oh you are precious, aren’t you, darling?”
“This is Nico,” Henry introduces. “I would die for her.”
“As would I.” He’s glad they’re on the same page. Pez tickles her belly, drawing out one of her adorable little giggles. “What a pickle you’ve found yourself in, eh, mate?”
“You’re telling me.”