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When Alex climbs the steps up to the front door of the brownstone in Brooklyn, he's exhausted. The bag on his back is loaded with law books, and it feels like they'll drag him back down into essay hell before they let him ascend to the heaven of his and Henry's bed. When the Uber pulls away behind him, he's surrounded by the murky gray that passes for a New York late night or early morning, but with the ever-present street lights he really has no idea what time it is. When his phone died it was almost 10 PM, but that was hours ago.
He'd told Henry not to wait up, so it's a surprise when, after a few moments of fumbling with the key and the lock that never seems to open right, the door is thrown open and he's pulled into a bone-crushing hug. His arms come up automatically to hug Henry back, and after a moment, he's pulled inside, stumbling over the threshold and starting to pull back to kiss his boyfriend. Henry won't pull back even that far. After a long moment of nothing but hug, Henry shuts the door and lets go just enough to lock it behind them, shutting out the night for good. The quick glance of his face Alex gets is enough to make him hug Henry closer.
He can hear the TV from their living room, accompanied by, bizarrely, what sounds like June's and Pez's voices. Henry's still holding him close, and at some point he started shaking slightly. Now that they're fully inside, Alex expects to be kissed, or at least to move into the living room or put his bag down, but Henry doesn't let go. When he does finally try to shift away, even the tiniest bit, Henry pulls him in tighter, saying something Alex can't quite make out. Through the haze of exhaustion, he realizes suddenly that Henry is crying.
"It's okay, baby. It's alright," he says, rubbing Henry's back gently.
"Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, don't you ever do that to me again. Don't you dare, don't even... god, just... you can't do that to us."
"Sweetheart, it's okay. I won't do it again. Whatever it is, we'll--"
"Whatever it is?!" Henry's grip relaxes a bit. "This bloody country of yours, and you won't answer my calls, or anyone's texts-- I've got everyone on Skype, and no one's heard anything and you..." He's cut off by a sob, and Alex holds him closer.
"Hey, I'm okay. It's okay. My phone died, but I told you I'd be out late. I said not to worry."
"How can you be so bloody... it was on the news. I was getting ready for bed and they announced it... I've been trying to call you for hours; everyone has, and you've... we haven't heard anything; we were so..."
He keeps talking, but Alex can't listen. He hasn't been able to make himself listen since Henry mentioned the news and he felt his blood run cold. Something's happened to his mom. Someone's hurt her, or maybe they've hurt June or his dad or Leo or Rafael Luna. The Republicans have done something in Washington, and they've needed him in the field and he's been buried in a textbook and an essay that won't ever really matter.
His family's needed him, and they're hurt, and he's here, getting a hug from his boyfriend and promising that it's okay when everything has gone wrong.
"Sweetheart, what... what happened?" he finally asks. Henry takes a deep breath.
"There... at the 7-11 on third, there was a... a shooting, and they didn't catch him for ages, and... and they said people had been hurt. People got shot, and it was on third, right by Washington Square Park, right by the subway stop you get off at; it was so close to NYU's law school and I... Christ, Alex, that was 10:30. And I called you, and you didn't... and then I called Nora, and June and your mom, and then I called Leo and your dad and Luna in case anyone had heard from you, and they hadn't, and... and then Bea called, and she and Pez have been on the phone since 11:00, which is 5:00 AM their time, and we... I love you. I love you so much."
He's pulled back enough to grab hold of Alex's face, and Alex gets his first good look at the red-rimmed eyes and frazzled hair. Henry is wearing pajama pants with the button-up he wore for the day, though it's now crumpled almost beyond recognition, and one of the buttons is in wrong. His bottom lip is chewed almost raw. This is the worst he's ever seen Henry, and he's seen Henry through some truly awful things. He has no idea what time it is, but it's been hours since 10:30. He'd picked a study spot away from TVs and taken an Uber home instead of the subway, and he'd left Henry to worry for hours.
"I love you, too. I'm so sorry."
"Jesus Christ, it's not... don't be sorry. It's not... I was just so..." Henry takes a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Alex's for a second. His hands are on Alex's biceps, and Alex can feel them shaking slightly. "What matters is that you're okay. You're here. You... you made it home. I've still got you. That's what matters. We... we should tell the others you're okay."
Alex nods, letting his backpack fall to the floor with a heavy thunk. The essay he'd been working on and the back pain in his future have become problems for another day. Henry clutches his hand like a lifeline as he leads the way into the living room, where he has Skype screens lined up along the coffee table. Bea and Pez in Kensington are on one; Nora in her apartment is on another; and June, his mom, and Leo are on a third from the White House. June's got her own phone out, and he can barely make out his dad's face.
"He just got home," Henry says as they walk into the room, sounding suddenly exhausted. "He's safe."
There are sounds of relief from the screens, and everyone starts talking at once as Henry sits them down on the couch. Alex smiles a bit.
"Sorry, I... my phone died, and I was in the zone. I had no idea anything had happened until I got home."
Henry rests his head on Alex's shoulder, the tension draining from his body as the others lay into Alex. Nora's upset that he doesn't have an extra battery pack, because she had to stay up watching Henry panic and not being able to leave her apartment to come help for fear of something happening to her. Pez offers to give out free battery packs at all their youth shelters as long as Alex promises to take one and threatens to bring Henry back to England where it's safe. Bea makes Alex promise not to scare Henry like that ever again, and Zahra appears to threaten him with a fate worse than being shot if he ever stays out that late with a dead phone again. His mom is just glad he's safe, and she says she's glad she's awake at a decent time for an international call, but he can tell she's been worried sick. June promises to write him the most embarrassing obituary possible, including the time he shit his pants in 4th grade, and his dad chips in with the story about a time he threw up over a desk of important papers after insisting he wasn't sick. Leo has the good sense not to comment on that, just saying he's glad everyone's safe.
Bea and Pez hang up first, then the White House screen, and finally it's just him and Henry. He turns the TV off, and when he looks over from finally plugging his phone in, Henry has fallen asleep curled against him on the couch. He's become not a prince, not a leader, just six feet of tired boy squished in next to David and clinging to Alex's arm like a child with a teddy bear. Alex can see the tear tracks on his cheeks, and when he listens to the voicemail from 10:28 (over three hours ago), he can hear the panic in Henry's voice. His voicemail is full, mostly with calls from Henry, June, and Nora, though he's heard from almost everyone he knows. He has 198 texts and emails from Henry, Zahra, Luna, and all three of his parents. Alex would be the first to admit he's never avoided the spotlight, but it's all a bit overwhelming. He shoots off as many 'we're okay' texts as he can manage (to Luna, Liam, Catherine, Phillip, Amy, Cash...) before he eventually just opens twitter.
"Tonight's been hard, but I am more thankful than ever to have @hrhHenryWales and @hrdDavidBeagle by my side. We're all safe, and they're sleeping beside me on the couch. Take time to look after yourselves, America. But when you're ready get your asses in gear."
He ignores the things people have tweeted at him and the almost immediate replies to open Instagram. He goes straight to his story and snaps a photo of Henry's hand clutching his sweatshirt, David's head resting beside it.
"So infinitely thankful for these two, tonight more than ever. I'll plan on an actual statement tomorrow, but tonight I just need to be thankful. Take time to look after yourselves, then swipe up to call your reps."
He adds the link and tags Henry and David, then puts his phone down. For the rest of the night, all that matters is getting to bed. There is so much to deal with and work through, and so many people to call and rally with, but if he starts on that now he won't stop. It's too much for two AM, so he has to address only the tiny, immediate problems right now. Most importantly, if they spend the night on the couch, Henry will be sore for the next two days, and Alex will have to watch him be in pain. So Alex runs his fingers through Henry's hair and says, "Baby? You've got to wake up, Sweetheart. We've got to go to bed."
Henry doesn't react, but when Alex pulls away to try to pick him up, he bolts awake. His eyes are wide until they land on Alex, and only once he's convinced Alex is safe does he relax a bit. Alex pulls him into a hug, and Henry hugs him back, clutching at his sweatshirt like he might disappear. Alex just holds him, rubbing his back until his breathing evens out.
"Sorry, I... I was going to carry you to bed."
"No, don't be sorry. I love you so much. I'm just... I'm glad you're safe."
"Me too," Alex says. "I love you, and I'm glad we're safe. I'm glad we're together."
Henry nods, yawning, and Alex eventually gets him up off the couch and out of the crumpled dress shirt. While he's brushing his teeth, he gets a twitter post notification from Henry and sees that he's tweeted about their safety, reassuring fans across the pond that they're alright. He's in bed when Alex comes out of the bathroom, and when Alex gets in Henry pulls him close, burying his face in Alex's chest. Alex hugs him close.
"I love you. I was so afraid I'd never get to say that again and now I don't want to stop. I love you," Henry mumbles, sleepiness creeping into his voice, and Alex smiles.
"I know." He barely catches Henry's sleepy laugh. David jumps up to lie at their feet, and Alex presses a kiss to Henry's forehead.
Tomorrow, he'll find out the details of what happened. Tomorrow, he'll find a list of rallies and protests to tweet out and start drafting a law that actually makes sense. Tomorrow, he'll have the energy to find out exactly how to fight back and make sure no one ever has to deal with what Henry dealt with again. But for now, he pulls his boyfriend close and lets himself fall asleep thankful.