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Alex has always had a fire in his brain. Sometimes that fire spreads out of control.
He’d started getting migraines sophomore year of high school. At first, he’d thought it was just a headache brought on by lack of sleep or too much coffee or dehydration or a bad hit during lacrosse practice – honestly, given his life choices, he was practically asking for it…
But when 72 hours later that headache still hadn’t gone away and instead had only worsened in a throbbing, pounding, all consuming pain that left Alex curled up in his bed in the dark, unable to stand light or sound, and eventually, vomiting into the toilet, his mom had rushed him to the ER.
The doctors poked and prodded him, running every test imaginable, and Alex tried not to scream as they assaulted his eyes and ears with another bright light and loud machine that pounded through his skull. It was almost more than he could take, and the tangy taste of iron on his tongue overwhelmed everything else as he gave in to the endless, shooting, raging pain in his head, not even noticing the tears slipping down his cheeks.
In the end, the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong. They simply assured his irate mother that Alex didn’t have a brain tumor, gave them a reference for a neurologist, and sent them on their way. Alex was too tired to argue, and when he woke the next day, miraculously, blessedly, pain free, he was so relieved, that he shoved the referral in a drawer in his desk and promptly forgot about it.
It was only when the pain came back three months later that he finally went. The neurologist told him he had “chronic lasting migraines” and his mother swore. Apparently, they ran in his mother’s side of the family, unbeknownst to Alex, and as the doctor put it, were a total bitch. Fantastic.
They tried everything. Fast acting meds for instant pain relief: none of them worked. And they tried all of them. Alex’s doctor said that for some people they just didn’t take. He would just have to…wait them out. They kept trying. Botox. Even Acupuncture, which Alex thought was a bunch of energy nonsense, but at this point, was desperate enough to try. Nothing. Preventative meds helped him from getting them so regularly, and he had a couple steroids now that were supposed to end the cycle faster, but when they hit…he just had to wait it out. Literally.
So far, Alex had managed to hide his migraines from Henry, or – just how bad they really were, in their first eight months of living together. The first time one hit, he’d panicked and spent the night at June’s, begging off for some overdue catch up time. June told him he was being ridiculous but… Alex just hated how weak they made him feel. How incapacitated. It was just a headache, right? There was no reason for Alex to be such a baby about it… Besides, he hadn’t been sick around Henry yet, and this would not be a good way to start. Luckily, it’d been a short one, and he was back to normal the next day.
The second time, Henry had been leaving for a weekend trip, some fundraiser for the shelter, when Alex woke up to knives stabbing every part of his forehead. He’d managed to attribute it to not getting enough sleep, which wasn’t untrue, the first semester of law school was kicking Alex’s butt. Henry had made Alex promise to have June check up on him – Henry would never know that Alex spent the weekend cocooned in darkness in their room – and left without a second glance.
Alex had known, yesterday, known in his bones, when he’d suddenly gotten dizzy making coffee and Henry had put his hands on his waist to steady him, when his ears had started to ring with the reverberations of chatter in the hallways, that one was coming. He prayed he was wrong.
He wasn’t.
When Alex wakes, the beginning of a nasty headache is forming at his temples – not full strength yet, but enough to make Alex feel sick to his stomach – and Alex buries his head in his pillow and groans softly.
“Sweetheart?” Henry murmurs softly, throwing his leg over Alex’s hips. “You alright?”
Henry presses a kiss gently to Alex’s temple, and Alex has to swallow hard against the sudden bile that rises in his throat, as the throbbing, stabbing, visceral pain increases, and begins to press in on all sides.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Just not feeling well.”
“Why don’t you stay home?”
“Can’t. Important lectures today.”
Alex would truly give nothing more than to stay in bed all day, but he does have important lectures he really can’t afford to miss. He takes stock of his pain level now and feels tears rise in his eyes, wondering how on earth he’s going to get through the day.
But Alex Claremont-Diaz is nothing if not a fighter. Alex forces himself out of bed, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of dizziness that has him grabbing for the nightstand. Luckily, Henry’s eyes are still closed, so he doesn’t see.
If Alex can just get out of the house quickly, maybe he can pull this off, maybe he’ll feel better by the end of the day, somehow. He takes a deep breath, trying to master the nausea roiling in his stomach.
“Baby, I’m running late, I’ll see you when I get home tonight, okay? Love you.”
Henry smiles into his pillow, not bothering to open his eyes.
“Love you more. Take it easy today, okay?”
Alex takes a record fast shower, barely able to stand the pounding of the water with the now constant pounding in his head. Getting dressed, he can’t bear to put on the usual business casual wear he sports for class, his skin is too hot, he’s so hot, he can feel himself flush with every thud of his head. But he’s also shivering, so he throws on sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. Not even bothering to pretend anymore, he grabs his sunglasses and a water bottle, swallowing four Advil dry. They won’t really help, but it’s better than nothing.
Alex hates how he’ll look like some washed up Frat boy who just went too hard on a Thursday, but he’s emailed his profs about his migraines and his occasional need for sunglasses, so… who cares what everyone thinks, he tries to tell himself. He wishes more people understood how debilitating migraines really were, when he’s tried explaining it, all he gets are… blank stares, confusion.
As soon as Cash sees him step out of the brownstone, he knows. He’s worked with Alex long enough that he knows all the signs. Sunglasses, gigantic water bottle, ear plugs… “Alex, maybe you should stay - “
“I’m already up, let’s just go.”
In hindsight, Alex should’ve listened to Cash. If he hadn’t been so hellbent on avoiding Henry. By the last lecture of the day, there are knives of sharp pain digging into Alex’s head from all directions, it hurts so badly he can barely see, the noise of people talking around him is reverberating so loudly and sending such sharp spikes of pain through him it’s all he can do not to put his hands over his ears, the shafts of light that manage to sneak through his sunglasses are so blinding that Alex thinks he may vomit just sitting there. 20 minutes, Alex thinks… 10 more minutes, just 10 more. At this point, his whole shirt is soaked in sweat, but he’s so cold he can’t take his sweatshirt off. The sound of everyone leaving the lecture hall almost sends Alex over the edge. Cash finds him with his head between his knees, and has to catch him when Alex tries to stand.
“Cash, I’m gonna…”
Cash holds Alex gently around the waist and keeps his hair back from his forehead as Alex vomits into the toilet. After he’s done, Cash wraps Alex’s arm around his shoulder and takes his entire weight, all but carrying him to the car. It’s only when Alex’s cheek touches soft leather that he realizes they’ve made it, he’s so dizzy and his head keeps pounding so sickeningly with a pain that stabs in every direction he’s not really sure where he is anymore. He can hear Cash talking above him and then he hears his phone ding.
Fuck.
Henry.
Henry’s memories of this morning are mostly a sleep filled haze, but he does remember Alex didn’t look like himself. Pale, a little sweaty. Tense around the jaw and eyes, as if he had a headache, like he often does at the end of the day. Still, Henry is sure Alex would tell him if something is really wrong. When most of the day passes without an update, and Henry knows Alex has gotten out of his last class, with still no update, Henry begins to get worried. Did something happen? Alex wouldn’t hide something from him, if he knew something was wrong?
He excuses himself from the Shelter’s games room, leaving the kids with Pez, who is also not convinced of Alex’s supposed wellbeing. He takes a deep breath, and types out a text. And then erases it. He tries again. On the third try, he sends the text, trying not to sound overbearing
Alex tries to comprehend the message from Henry. He’s so dizzy at this point that he’s having trouble reading, and being in the car isn’t helping.
Hi sweetheart, just wondering how you were feeling, haven’t heard from you all day. Trying not to worry. Love you.
Alex groans. Fuck. There is no way he can hide this from Henry.
“What’s wrong?” Cash asks from the front, twisting around, alarmed. He procures a paper bag from somewhere. “Do you need – “
“No, thanks.” This time Alex groans in obvious frustration. “Henry. I don’t want him to – I can’t – I feel so fucking weak like this, you know? And it’s just a stupid headache.”
Alex is immensely grateful that Cash ignores the tear that escapes down his cheek, despite his best efforts to stop it. He leans back and tries to breathe through the throbbing pain in his head.
“It’s not just a headache, Alex. Migraines can be extremely debilitating. Henry will understand.”
Alex sniffs. “Thanks, Cash.”
Alex types out a few words to Henry, but the effort of trying to form sentences makes his head pound even harder and spin even more and the nausea rises abruptly in his stomach. Alex squeezes his eyes shut.
“Cash, could you just tell him I’m fine? Don’t want him to worry.”
Alex hands Cash his phone.
“Of course.” Cash looks at what Alex has already written, and then looks at Alex in the backseat, arm thrown over his eyes, face pale, mouth tight in pain. He sighs.
Henry stares at his phone, frustrated. The gray dots had shown Alex was typing, but now he had stopped.
“Why isn’t he responding?” Henry sighs, frustrated.
“I’m sure he just has his hands full getting out of the city,” Shaan responds, diplomatically.
Henry thwacks his head against the couch, anxious. “I know…I’m just… worried about him.” “Oh, wait…” The gray dots had popped up again.
Sorryuij
Bad
Hurts
but imfine doNtworry
The three dots popped up again, then disappeared. Now Henry was definitely worried.
“Shaan?” Henry asked, anxiety rising in his voice, ready to call the National Guard if he had to. Then he saw the dots appear again.
Henry, Cash here. Alex asked me to tell you that he’s fine, and to please not worry. He’s not up for typing at the moment, as you can see, and had me take over his phone. Everything is fine, Henry. Whether he’s fine…well…he’s not in need of medical treatment. Alex is suffering from a bad migraine; he gets them fairly regularly. It seems he’s been hiding them from you until now. He was sick just after class, is incredibly light and sound sensitive, and in a lot of pain. I’m taking him home now, I can fill you in more when you arrive.
Wordlessly, Henry hands his phone to Shaan, who skims the message and nods, getting the car ready without a second glance, as Henry rushes off to tell Pez. Once they’re safely moving towards home, Shaan sighs, glancing back at Henry anxiously tapping on the window.
“Zahra gets them too.”
“You knew about Alex - about this?”
“It’s not my information to tell.”
“Can’t the doctors do anything? To – I mean – “
“It’s different, person to person. Zahra has some meds that help when a migraine hits, but it’s still pretty bad. She needs to lie down in a completely dark room until it’s over, luckily hers generally only last a day. My understanding is that…Alex’s tend to last longer and they tried to find medication for him, but nothing really helped.”
Henry frantically googles "migraines”. He’s stunned to discover it’s the 3rd most prevalent illness in the world and 6th most debilitating. It makes his heart ache.
“I had no idea they were so… horrible…I mean…does he really just have to wait it out? Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“Most people don’t, unless they know someone who suffers directly. I’m not gonna lie, they’re pretty shit. There’s probably small things that help, yeah, he’ll tell you. Just know he’s going to be super sensitive to sensation for the next few days.”
Cash had refused to leave Alex alone, despite Alex insisting he was a grown man. He made Alex drink 3 glasses of water and helped him get into bed, pulling down all the shades. Alex almost cried with relief when his head hit the pillow. The pain was still there, ever constant, but now at least Alex can burrow his head in, throw his arm over his ears, try to block it out. He’s torn between wanting Henry there desperately and being terrified to really be seen like this… but then his head is pounding too hard and throbbing too much and he’s putting all his concentration into trying to breathe without vomiting to think much at all.
Henry tries to tiptoe into the brownstone as quietly as he can, unsure of what he’ll find. He’s relieved to see Cash waiting for him.
“Cash, thank you – how is he?” Henry whispers urgently.
“Not great. This isn’t the worst one I’ve seen Alex have, but it’s pretty bad. I should’ve put him right back in bed as soon as I saw him this morning but… anyways, he’s in bed now, I made sure he’s hydrated.”
Henry couldn’t help the pit in his stomach. Cash had known just by looking at Alex, what kind of boyfriend was he?
Cash must be able to read his face. “Henry, I’ve been working at Alex’s side for over four years,” he says gently. “These migraines make Alex feel…helpless…out of control. I think he was scared for you to see him like that.”
Henry can’t help the wetness building in his eyes. “Has he – “ he clears his throat, “has he eaten anything?”
“I doubt he’ll be able to eat anything right now. He was super nauseous earlier, when he threw up just after class, that’ll probably continue for a while.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Keep him hydrated. Make sure not to talk too loud, keep all the lights down. He has some steroids that are supposed to help, if the pain gets really bad, but they doesn’t seem like they do anything in the short term. Maybe they keep it from lasting even longer.”
Cash hesitates. “He hates being this vulnerable; he’ll try to push you away. Don’t let him.”
“I won’t.”
The first thing Henry notices upon entering their room is how unusually dark it is. All the shades have been drawn, fabric stuffed in every crevice to keep light from coming in. The second is how Alex is curled up on his side of the bed, head underneath two pillows, arm slung tight across them and around his other side, presumably to increase the pressure. Henry doesn’t think he’s ever seen Alex be so still.
Carefully, Henry edges towards Alex’s side of the bed and perches on it. His face isn’t even visible and Henry realizes he’s pulled the covers up as far as they can go too.
Gently, Henry picks up Alex’s closest hand and presses a soft kiss to it, not daring to speak.
“’ry?” Alex slurs. Henry can hear the pain roughening his voice, no matter how he tries to hide it.
“Hi darling,” Henry says softly. “How are you feeling?”
Alex hesitates. Henry can feel him negotiating what to tell Henry in the silence. “Not great.”
Henry rubs a soothing circle into his palm. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me sweetheart. From what Shaan told me, it sounds bloody awful.”
Alex hesitates again, but shorter this time. “Hurts,” he admits finally. “Really hurts.”
Henry hums quietly, low in his throat. “I don’t want you to feel like you ever have to hide anything from me, darling. I think you’re so, incredibly strong.”
“’m not-“
“I’m pretty certain I would be blubbering like a baby by now. But you have always been so brave, sweetheart.”
Henry swears he hears a sniffle, then, after a long pause… “I know so many people have it so much worse, it’s just, they can’t give me anything to stop it, and it takes over everything, and I feel like it won’t ever end, and I hate it.”
Henry so badly wants to hug him, but isn’t sure if Alex can take that much physical contact. “Of course you do, darling, anyone would.”
“I should be able to just push through it…’m weak.”
“Alex…can I hold you, please?”
A beat of silence, then finally: “Yeah, okay.”
Henry gets into bed as gently as he can, but can’t even get close to Alex, he’s wrapped so tightly in sheets and pillows.
He carefully unwinds Alex from the sheets and can feel how warm he is, the sheets closest to him damp with sweat.
“Are you hot, sweetheart?” He still couldn’t see Alex’s face underneath all the pillows.
“Cold.”
That couldn’t be good. Henry didn’t like all the water Alex must be losing, but decides that’s a battle for later. He snuggles himself up close to his love and puts his arm around his waist tentatively.
“Is this okay?”
“Mmhm. Glad you’re here.”
Henry runs soft patterns up and down Alex’s back with his fingers and they just lay there together, breathing quietly.
“H? Do you think I could maybe…put my head in your chest? The pressure…it helps.”
“Of course, love.”
Henry removes the top layer from Alex’s pillow cocoon and goes to remove the second but Alex stops him.
“Sorry could we just, go slow? It’s just- it’s a lot.”
Henry doesn’t want to think about what ‘a lot’ means. He waits until Alex’s hand stops fisting the pillow, and takes that as his gesture to continue. Alex hisses at being exposed to the light change of the totally dark room, and Henry’s heart aches as he imagines just how much pain Alex must be in. Alex screws his eyes shut and Henry can see the pain living in the tight lines of his face as he reaches for Henry, and Henry guides him into his chest.
“There we go, sweetheart.”
Alex presses his forehead into Henry’s chest hard.
“Does that help?”
Alex nods into his chest. “Just, H, when you talk, the vibrations-“
Henry nods to tell him he understands. His fingers find the knotted muscles in Alex’s neck and begin to knead them gently, but Alex jerks back with a gasp.
“Sorry, sorry, darling…”
Henry’s fingers instead find their way up to Alex’s curls, and he presses Alex harder into his chest. He can feel Alex relax beneath him.
“Thank you,” Alex whispers.
Henry fingers begin to massage Alex’s scalp, softly, gently, maintaining the pressure, until Alex drops off to sleep.
Henry thought the worst was over. He was wrong. The second day, Alex is in so much pain he can’t stand to have Henry touching him, and is constantly tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, unable to sleep the pain is so unbearable. Henry has given him all his steroids and nothing is working, Alex is only able to sit up long enough to drink water and is so dizzy Henry has to hold him just so he can walk to the bathroom.
Henry is more than ready to call a doctor, but Alex just smiles at him tiredly and says, “it’s nothing, H”.
Henry doesn’t like the sound of that.
Alex won’t eat. The nausea is made worse by the dizziness and the few times Henry’s tried to feed him toast it comes almost immediately back up.
By the third day, Henry’s getting desperate. Alex tells him the pain isn’t as bad but the dizziness is still … well … dizzying. Henry tries to convince him a shower would make him feel better, Alex doesn’t think he can make it that long standing upright. He doesn’t say as much, but Henry can see the exhaustion in his eyes, before he buries himself back under the pillows.
The fourth day, Henry snaps. He draws Alex a warm bath, makes sure not to include anything scented. When he goes back into the bedroom, Alex just looks beaten down, exhausted.
“Please just let me lie here, H.”
“It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
Henry undresses Alex tenderly, softly stripping him of his sweat soaked clothes. When they’re both naked, he picks Alex up in his arms, making sure his head is supported, and carries him into the bathtub. He sets Alex’s head on his chest as he washes him of four days of sweat and exhaustion and pain. Long after the soap is gone, they lie there, in the warm water, intertwined in each other.
“I’m so tired, Henry,” Alex whispers softly.
“I know, darling, I know,” Henry soothes, wrapping his arms around Alex tighter.
“This is when I think…maybe it won’t ever stop hurting.” Alex chokes back a sob, and Henry brushes the tears from his cheek.
“It’s okay to cry my love…it’s okay…I promise…you’re going to be okay” Long after they’d been cleaned and dried and were resting in clean sheets, Henry desperately wishes he could make this okay for Alex. He’d do anything.
On the fifth day, Henry wakes to sunlight shining into their room, and Alex sweetly stroking his cheek.
“Are you…feeling better?” He hardly dares to hope.
Alex nods shyly. “The residuals are still there, and I feel like shit, but yeah. Henry, baby, thank you. You took care of me, and you didn’t need to-
Henry cuts Alex off with a bruising kiss. “Oh, shut up. You would do the same for me.” He pulls back to look at Alex in the eye. “Just promise, next time, you’ll tell me?”
Alex nods, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I was just embarrassed, they make me so helpless, and I – “
Henry kisses him again, gentler this time. “Hush. I love you, you idiot.”
Alex smiles, and kisses him hard, languid and exploring. “I love you too.”
“Besides. You know what they say, in sickness and in health.”
Alex’s grin could’ve split his face in two. “Are you saying you’ll marry me, Your Royal Highness?”
Henry can’t help but smile back “Are you really asking?”
Alex winks at him, moving on top of Henry to straddle him with his hips. “Trust me, baby. When I ask, you’ll know.”
Whether in sickness, or in health, Henry couldn’t wait.