Chapter Text
“Morning, love,” Henry rolls over at the sound of Alex’s alarm. “Big day ahead.”
“Mhmm.”
Alex buried his face into Henry’s side, inhaling the scent which reminded him of home. He couldn’t help but smile against his lover’s skin, the warmth of Henry’s body reminding him that he could do anything he put his mind to. And having Henry with him on one of the biggest days of his career so far meant everything to him. Waking up at his bedroom in the White House nowadays could only mean he was working with his mother as part of her second-term as President of the United States. When he used to do this, during her first-term, Henry was never here. Alex was beyond delighted that he could have Henry here with him now. He made it feel like home.
“Hey,” Henry’s voice was thick with tiredness, and Alex hated that he was the reason Henry had to be awake so early; he hated disturbing Henry’s sleep when he’d finally found a peaceful state of rest. “Are you okay?”
“Tired,” Alex muttered in the American accent which made Henry’s heart swell. “Too early. Five more minutes.”
“We have to meet everyone downstairs in less than an hour, love,” Henry shuffled beneath the sheets and displaced Alex’s face from his side, and he just about made out Alex’s disgruntled mutter. “Come on. We’ll be in New York tonight and we can celebrate and sleep for as long as you wish. I promise. No commitments for a few days other than being together.”
Alex liked the sound of that. He nodded before rubbing his eyes and forcing his head away from the pillow, otherwise he really would fall asleep again. Henry sat up beside him and reached for Alex’s face, using his index and middle finger to tilt his chin backwards but bring his mouth closer to his simultaneously.
“I’m so proud of you,” Henry smiled, closing the gap between his and Alex’s tired, warm mouths. Alex melted at the sensation of Henry’s lips against his, a feeling he would never get used to; every kiss was just like their first, in the snow, by their tree, at Alex’s New Year’s Eve party at the White House. “Your speech is amazing. I can’t wait for everyone to hear it.”
“You’re only saying it’s amazing because you wrote it.” Alex sighed, as Henry rolled his eyes and scoffed.
“That’s actually not the reason at all,” Henry kissed Alex again briefly to prevent him from opening his mouth and saying anything else. Their burning foreheads fell against one another’s. “You came up with the topic. You pitched it to your mom. You wanted to do this, to get up there in front of thousands of people, television cameras, and the entire world, and talk about the importance of queer representation and opportunity in this country. You did that. And you were born to make speeches.”
“No,” Alex folded his arms. “I was born to be a politician. And to love you.”
“Definitely to love me,” another kiss; they couldn’t get enough of each other’s lips. “But your speech when the emails were leaked… you know how much I loved that, how you said everything so perfectly. I could never have done that, but you did.”
“I know you’re proud to be my boyfriend,” Alex’s words brought a smile to both of their lips because even though they were officially fiancés now, Alex would never forget how Henry praised his speech after their emails were leaked. Henry nodded. “I’m so pleased to have you here today. Thank you for being here.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss this,” Henry ran his fingers through the dark curls he loved so much, to pull and to hold and to use as comfort. “Come on. Shower?”
“Shower.”
Alex pressed three kisses to Henry’s face; one to his forehead, one to his nose and one to his lips. They kicked back the covers and Henry climbed out of Alex’s bed, waiting for his boyfriend to wrap his arms around his bare waist and kiss the top of his back. Once he felt Alex’s arms on his body, Henry connected their hands and they rushed across the carpet to the en-suite like they were kids, Alex’s smile widening by the second against Henry’s burning skin.
Every single day. He falls back in love with him every. Single. Day.
---
“You’re going to be fantastic, love,” Henry lifted Alex’s hands, which were clasped between his own, up to his lips. “And then when you’re done, we can get out of here and back to New York.”
“God, I can’t wait.” Alex cupped Henry’s face for one more soft, sweet kiss, and he momentarily melted before his lover. He didn’t want to let him go and he wished he could bring Henry onstage with him, and have him hold his hand whilst he spoke about the LGBTQ+ community in America. It made sense and Alex wanted it more than anything, but he couldn’t. So, he would just have to come back to him afterwards and kiss him a few more times, thank him a few more times, then post on Instagram about how Henry has been his muse for the endless LGBTQ+ campaigning he’d been at the forefront of for months. There was nothing in the world he loved more than Henry, but having the ability to talk so passionately about being able to love whoever you want to love was quite high up on the list of things he did love.
So here he was, moments away from taking the stage at the Smithsonian, his mom currently onstage before him, offering a welcome speech to the guests and the media who were invited to her event today. The reception outside of the museum was sensational. Young people gathered in their masses, waving the flags that represented them, wearing their ‘History, Huh?’ t-shirts, and cheering for Alex and Henry as they made the short distance from the White House to the Smithsonian. It still gave him goosebumps to the day, knowing that he and Henry really did make history, and continued to make history. And he knew that writers would have the time of their lives writing the history of their lives. He wished to be around to see it.
Alex ran his hands down his suit jacket, a nervous tic he’d picked up from Henry, before going straight for the ring on his pinky finger. The ring he’d not given back to Henry yet. The ring Henry loved seeing on his lover’s hand almost as much as the engagement band he wore on his ring finger.
“Stop worrying, Alex,” Henry’s smile made Alex smile. “I love you.”
“I love you-”
He was cut off before he could finish his sentence by shouting in the distance. He reached for Henry’s hand without a second thought and pulled him closer to his slim body, because he knew that ominous shouting bouncing off of the walls of the Smithsonian wasn’t in the plan for today. Alex’s second instinct was to rush for his mother, so he looked to his left, to the stage, and she was already being bundled away from public view. A wave of relief washed over Alex, knowing that his mom was being rushed to safety. Him and Henry were next; Cash and Amy were in front of them, Henry’s royal security behind them.
Before they could be escorted into the cars waiting for them outside, the same cars they’d arrived in, shots rang out in the building and Alex froze in place, feeling sick to his stomach as he saw them out of the corner of his eye.
A gun pointing in the direction of him and Henry, the perpetrator hiding behind a black balaclava, only their eyes visible. And all Alex could think about was how cowardly they were, and how he needed to get Henry to safety. Henry, who was standing behind him with his hand placed on Alex’s waist, encouraging him to move forward behind Cash and Amy. Cash and Amy, who hadn’t noticed that the perpetrator was creeping closer towards them. Towards Alex. Towards Henry.
Alex wanted to shout to Cash, to tell them to run, but it seemed to be protocol to leave in the calmest manner possible. Nothing about Alex was calm right now.
Then, Henry noticed the shooter, the gun pointing towards them, and he wondered what the hold up was. The hold up to get out of the building. The hold up for the perpetrator - why weren’t they firing?
Henry looked carefully as he continued walking, trying to alert his security without making it obvious to the perpetrator, his eyes narrowing as he watched the finger movement on the trigger. He knew they wanted Alex, he could tell by the direction the gun was pointing in. And they wanted Alex dead. Henry would never, ever allow that.
Why the fuck was none of their security noticing that there was an active shooter a mere metres away? Or was the shooter that much of a professional that they knew how not to be spotted by the best security in the world? Fuck.
Fingers moved on the trigger. Henry did the first thing that came to mind.
He pulled on Alex’s arm so that he fell backwards, shielded by Henry’s larger frame, as the bullet was dislodged from the gun and flew through the air in their direction. Amy ran then, lifting her own gun and pointing it towards the perpetrator, before firing her gun in the direction of the perpetrator.
Henry let out a groan as the bullet struck him in the ribs, just beneath his heart, and he fell backwards now, straight into Alex’s arms.
“Fuck!” Alex dropped to his knees as Henry’s body fell towards the floor. He let out a scream for his bodyguard. “Cash!”
Henry’s security had jumped into action as soon as the bullet hit him, but that was too late. Even Cash and Amy were too late. Why the fuck hadn’t they noticed the shooter? Why hadn’t they forced Alex and Henry to safety quicker than they had done?
“Oh my God,” Alex shook his head as he watched the colour drain from Henry’s face. “Henry? Love, can you hear me?”
“Alex…” Henry’s voice was just a little louder than a whisper.
Alex shook his head in disbelief, gently placing Henry’s head on the floor and brushing his index finger across his defined, perfect, princely cheekbone. He noticed Henry’s lips twitching, his mouth parting, as he tried to take in air. Alex noticed the blood on his hands, his heart rate increasing as he tried to find where the blood was coming from. It wasn’t hard to notice the gaping hole in Henry’s body.
“Fuck, Henry,” Alex removed his suit jacket. “I’m going to help you, okay? I’m going to put pressure on your wound.”
Henry let out another groan of discomfort as tears welled in Alex’s eyes. He placed his suit jacket over the source of the blood and pushed down as hard as he possibly could, using every last piece of his strength, focused entirely on stopping the bleeding.
“Hey,” he spoke with a shaking tone, his voice breaking and cracking as he looked at Henry’s parted lips and flickering eyelashes. “No, Henry, no. You need to stay awake, okay? You need to keep your eyes open for me, alright? Talk to me, baby. Come on, talk to me.”
“Love you, Alex,” no. No! Not those fucking words. Not in that fucking tone. “Love you.”
“Henry,” Alex shook his head, torn between not saying it back because it meant the worst, but desperate to say it back so Henry knew. “No! Eyes here, baby. Fucking hell, Cash! Where’s the ambulance?”
“ETA two minutes, Sir.”
“Two fucking minutes?!” He screamed. “That’s not fucking good enough, Cassius! Tell them to fucking hurry up, you fucking idiot!”
Cassius. Alex had never called his bodyguard that in his life.
“Love you, Alex,” Henry repeated his words and Alex felt sick to his stomach as he heard the difficulty he was having breathing now. Trying to force air into his lungs whilst bleeding out but focused entirely on telling Alex he loved him. “Hurts bad. Love…”
“Henry,” through tears, Alex looked at his fiancé who was bleeding out on the floor of the fucking Smithsonian. “Cash, make yourself useful and put pressure on his wound, fucking hell!”
Cash dropped to his knees and did as Alex instructed him. Wasn’t this supposed to be his job? Wait, no, his job was to make sure this didn’t happen in the first place.
“Hold it tight,” Alex barked. “I swear to God, I will have my mother finish you.”
All he wanted was to hear the sirens drawing closer so that Henry could be taken to hospital. He so desperately needed to be in a fucking hospital.
“Baby,” Alex smiled; he didn’t want Henry to see how frightened he was. Henry was still there, still looking up at him, and it shattered Alex into a million little pieces to see him quite literally holding onto life by a thread. “Hey. I’m right here and it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you to hospital.”
Henry tried to respond but he could only let out a grunt, as his head lulled to the side. Alex couldn’t do this, see Henry like this, and let Henry see him like this. This wasn’t even supposed to happen. They were supposed to get the speech over and done with, then head to the flight strip and leave for New York.
“Cash!” Alex roared now, anger sparking like a fire in his veins so harshly that he felt like his head was going to explode. “That fucking ambulance!”
“Love you,” Henry spoke once more, his open mouth trying to lift into a smile, as his eyes closed softly. Alex tapped his cheek gently and felt relieved when Henry’s eyes reopened and met his immediately. “So much. So, so much. History, Alex.”
“History, baby,” Alex leaned down and kissed his forehead, petrified when his hot lips met Henry’s freezing skin. He glared at Cash, making sure he was putting enough pressure on Henry’s wound, but the blood was still everywhere; Alex was quite literally soothing the love of his life who was lying in his own pool of blood. “I love you.”
Alex gave in because it felt wrong to leave Henry hanging, although Alex was one hundred and ten percent sure that Henry knew just how much he loved him.
Henry smiled when the words processed in his brain, and he felt like that was a good time to stop trying to breathe when it hurt so fucking bad. His ribs and his lungs were on fire. He was freezing, despite the warmth of Alex’s hands and Alex’s lips and Alex on his body.
Letting go was the last thing he wanted to do, but forcing air into his lungs made the raging fire even worse, and there was nobody here to put it out. He couldn’t put it out himself, not anymore. He could just lie there and groan in morbid pain as he hoped that Alex would find him in their next life. That they would be together again, happy and in love, in their brownstone in New York. That maybe he wouldn’t be a Prince, and Alex wouldn’t be the First Son, and they could just be two normal people, in love with one another, with normal people jobs, and no shitty political events on their agenda. Just the two of them, happy and in love.
“He can’t fucking breathe!” Alex screamed. He screamed because although he wasn’t the one in pain, he could feel every single piece of Henry’s hurt. “Somebody help him.”
Alex hung his head backwards as the tears fell.
“Henry, please,” Alex sobbed now because he couldn’t keep it in. “Please don’t leave me. Please stay awake. You don’t have to talk, just look at me. Please, baby.”
“Love you.”
Henry’s lips drew closed as he stopped taking in air. Alex shook his head, unable to believe that he was watching this unfold before him, mentally begging that this was just some sick nightmare and he would wake up in his lover’s arms any moment now.
“Henry, please keep your eyes open,” Alex begged. He actually fucking begged. “Please, love. Just take a breath.”
Silence. He didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. And Alex’s first instinct now was to press against the pulse point on Henry’s neck, hoping that he would feel the thumping of his heart against his fingers. So he did that. But he couldn’t feel a thing. No matter how hard he tried, and how intently he focused, he couldn’t feel a fucking thing.
He couldn’t feel a thing because that was the moment Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor’s heart stopped.