Archive of Our Own

“Alright sweetheart, we’re going to get you taken care of, okay?”

Henry was thankful his back was to the patient. It gave him a moment to close his eyes, to take a deep, calming breath. He was no use to this person if he wasn’t in control of himself. One more steadying breath as he snapped on his gloves, and he turned to face the bed. 

It was pure chaos. The pole had pierced the vehicle, and in turn had speared the patient in the gut. He wasn’t entirely sure how the hell the paramedics got him here alive, but here he was, sitting on a gurney, metal pole stuck right through him. And he was talking. He was awake. That part truly blew Henry’s mind. He wished that it was different. That a man this strong, strong enough to be awake through such disaster, could live. 

But Alex had called him “sweetheart”. And every single doctor and nurse in that bay knew what it meant when the best trauma surgeon in the state put on that soothing voice and called a patient “sweetheart”.

“Am I gonna die?” the man gasped, his eyes wide and rolling, trying to look around even though his head was held in place by a cervical collar. 

“We’ve got you,” Alex answered as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Okay? We’ve got you.” 

“I can’t breathe,” he choked, and Alex nodded. 

“I know. It’s probably hard to take a deep breath right now. But do me a favor, okay? Close your mouth and try to take slow, steady breaths in through your nose.” 

The man was shaking, adrenaline and fear coursing through him, but he tried to do as Alex had instructed. Henry watched as he took several calmer breaths. In the meantime, Alex moved around the gurney, eyes dancing around, trying to work out the puzzle in front of him. It was a sight to see, something that captured Henry’s attention frequently. There was something about the look of concentration on his face that was hypnotizing. Deep brown eyes flicked over to Henry, and Henry blushed slightly but nodded before also stepping forward to assess. 

The spine was severed. There was no way it wasn’t. Henry bent forward, out of the man’s line of sight, and pinched his foot. No reaction. He sighed and stood before moving in front of the patient and giving him a small smile. 

“Sir, my name is Dr. Fox. Can you wiggle your right foot for me please?” he asked gently. The man panted slightly, trying to move his head down so that he could see, but Alex quickly held his shoulders to keep him still. 

“Woah there, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle. “Try and keep everything else still, and wiggle those toes for the good doctor, okay?” he encouraged.

Henry and Alex both watched that foot, as did everyone else. Several seconds passed with no movement, and the man grunted in obvious exertion. 

“Are they moving?” he asked, and Henry looked back up at him, schooling his expression with a practiced, empathetic smile. 

“They are, sir,” he said, and the man smiled. 

“Quit it with that ‘sir’ bullshit,” he grumbled. “Name’s Henry, but people usually call me Hank.”

“What a coincidence!” Alex exclaimed as he walked around and stood next to Henry, clapping him on the shoulder. “Check out this guy’s badge!”

It was clever. A way to give the man a task, something to focus on other than the nurse trying for the 3rd time to get an IV going. Henry stayed still, watched as the man squinted at the ID badge around his neck, then smiled bright. 

“I'll be damned!” he chuckled weakly. “Don't tell me you go by Hank too, now.”

“No sir,” Henry replied. “Just Henry to my friends.”

“Well what better way to make friends than with a pole in your gut?” Hank said, trying to laugh. 

Blood spurted from his mouth with a wet cough, and Alex moved instantly, all trace of joviality gone. Henry stood back as Alex ordered the nurses and other trauma team members about, trying to secure Hank’s airway. But Henry knew it was a lost cause. He started coughing harder and harder, choking and gasping as blood poured, and you could see the exact moment that he realized he wasn't going to make it. A flailing hand reached out, and Henry stepped forward, grasping it tightly, focusing on Hank’s face. 

“You’re alright, darling,” he said softly, hoping the man could hear above the chaos. 

Alex and his team worked around him, obviously aware of what was going on, but determined to beat the grim reaper anyway. Even if it was so futile. 

“We’ve got you, Hank,” Henry said, squeezing the slowly weakening hand in his. “You’re not alone. We’ve got you.”

He watched as Hank registered his words. He watched as his bloodshot eyes lost their light. He watched as his hand fell from his grasp. He watched as the heart monitor flatlined.

Activity stopped as if someone hit pause on time. Alex sighed heavily, looking around the room before glancing at the clock. 

“Time of death: 11:11.”

“Make a wish,” Henry thought as Alex reached forward and gently closed Hank’s eyes. 

Removing Hank from the pole was difficult. It ended with a handful of nurses and interns gently wiggling his body as Alex stood behind Henry, both of their hands on the pole, and pulled. The pair of them nearly fell back on their asses when it came free, and only Alex’s broad hand on Henry’s back kept him steady. 

By the time the paperwork was squared away, Hank’s body taken to the morgue, and his next of kin contacted, it was the end of both his and Alex’s shifts. As the pair grabbed their personal belongings from the lounge, Alex raised an eyebrow. 

“Owen’s?” he asked, and Henry sighed. 

“Owen’s.”

The bar was, quite literally, across the street from the hospital, making it popular with the personnel who worked there. It was also one of the only bars in Austin where you could order a stiff drink after getting off of an overnight shift at 8 in the morning and not get a funny look. Of course, being the heads of their respective departments, they didn’t work a lot of overnight shifts anymore. Still, sometimes they were necessary, much like the night previous. And bloody fucking hell, did Henry need a drink. At least it was lunch time, so he wouldn’t feel guilty ordering that drink. 

One of the great things about Owen’s wasn’t just the fact that it was open 24/7/365. No, it was their beer cheese dip. At least, if you asked Alex, that would be his answer. Henry was more partial to their fish and chips. It wasn’t exactly authentic, but it was nice when he missed a bit of home. Alex, however, would order that beer cheese dip with everything. Wings, fries, pizza. Currently, he was dipping his burger into a massive ramekin filled with the stuff, eyes closed in ecstasy at the first bite. Henry ignored the ridiculously pornographic sound he made as he tucked into his breakfast sandwich, thankful for Owen’s eclectic menu. 

“So. That was rough,” Alex mumbled around a mouthful of food, and Henry sighed heavily. To be fair, Alex never really was one to beat around the bush. 

“I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse traumas than that,” he said dismissively as he licked runny egg yolk off of his thumb and ignored the side eye that Alex was giving him. 

“Hen,” Alex said in that no-nonsense tone of his. “It’s always rough when you share the patient’s name. There’s no getting around it.” 

“It’s a good thing my name isn’t Hank then, isn’t it?” Henry pointed out as he took a sip of his gin and tonic, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Henry,” Alex said quietly, and Henry closed his eyes for a moment. Hank’s haunted face came back to him, and he squeezed his eyes tightly before blinking them open again and looking over at Alex. 

“Yes, Alex, it was hard, but not because we shared a name. It was hard because it was a loss of life. Every loss is hard. If we try to make every Hank we see special, we’re going to burn out quickly, and then what use are we to people?”

It came out harsher than he’d intended, but he meant every word. It was a fine line, feeling the pain of loss in their profession. You had to have empathy, and sympathy, but you couldn’t take it personally. You’d destroy yourself otherwise. You had to develop a thicker skin than most. He’d seen Alex lose patients one after the other, then laughing and dancing in the club two hours later. Alex understood. Alex got it. So why was he trying to make this a bigger deal than it was?

He watched as Alex stared at him for a long, hard moment, and Henry knew he was trying to keep his mouth shut. Part of him wanted to hear what Alex had to say. He always did. But part of him just wanted the shift to be over. In the past. Done. He needed to let it go. He needed Alex to let it go. 

And he did. He simply gave Henry a small, curt nod, and dunked his burger into that beer cheese dip. Henry returned the gesture and went back to his own meal, though it settled in his stomach like lead. As Alex took a drink from his beer bottle, Henry pulled his phone out of his pocket for the first time in hours, then nearly dropped it at the slew of notifications waiting for him. 

“Bloody fucking hell,” he muttered as he swiped through them, not really paying attention to them until he came across one from Bea. “Oh shit,” he hummed, and Alex looked over at him. 

“What?” he asked, peering over Henry’s shoulder like he used to when they were in medical school and he was trying to see if Henry was texting his latest hookup. “She’s just wishing you- wait. Henry, did you forget?” he asked with a gasp, and Henry shrugged. 

“It seems as though I did,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“How do you just forget?” Alex asked incredulously, and Henry cleared his throat. 

“Apparently, pretty easily when you’re dealing with poles in people’s guts,” he said. 

“Yeah, I can see how that’ll do it,” Alex said. They sat in silence for a few moments before Henry spoke again. 

“I’ll call her when I get home.” 

“Give her my love.” 

“You have her number, Alex.” 

They passed the rest of their meal in relative silence, making comments here and there, but otherwise quiet. Henry usually relished stillness after an overnight shift. The hospital always seemed to bustle with energy when the sun went down. It was some kind of insane magic that he had yet to figure out, a frenetic energy with no beginning and no end. But now, having been reminded of the day, having met Hank, the last thing Henry wanted was quiet. 

So when Alex pulled up in front of Henry’s house half an hour later, it made sense to grab his shirt collar and pull him in for a kiss. It made sense to drag him inside, press him against the door, plunder his mouth, pull his curls. It made sense to sink into him torturously slow, to touch and caress him in all the places he knew would make Alex mewl and moan and cry. Because if he was doing that, if he was pulling groans and gasps and delicious begging from the man below him, he didn’t have to worry about the quiet. If he was making Alex’s back arch as he came between them, he didn’t have to think. If he was gently cleaning Alex up with a damp cloth, murmuring filthy praise in his ear, he didn’t have to spiral. 

But as usual, after the post-orgasm cuddles and the confirmation that they worked a similar enough schedule to carpool the following day, Alex hopped out of Henry’s bed. He tugged on his clothes haphazardly, not seeming to care if his shirt was inside out. He was planting a final kiss to Henry’s lips as he sat up in the bed. 

And then he deviated from the usual as he added a second, lingering kiss to his forehead and a whispered, “Happy birthday, Hen.” 

And then Henry was alone. 

And then it was quiet. 

And then it was so, so loud. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started during medical school. They were exhausted, they were overwhelmed, and they truly didn’t have the time to go out to clubs and to parties to try and find hookups for a little bit of relief. One night, Henry had accidentally walked into their dorm in the middle of Alex jerking off, and Alex hadn’t stopped. And then they didn’t stop. 

So whenever they got stressed, whenever they needed to relax, to get out of their heads, they had each other. In every way they could think of. 

Henry had worried, in the beginning, that it would make things weird. But Alex had this incredible way of making him comfortable. A quip, a joke, a hug, a cup of tea, chaotic rambling, contemplative silence. He always just seemed to know. And so the occasional hookups were never weird. They never ended poorly. And on top of it, Alex encouraged Henry to get out there and date around. Henry, not wanting to seem possessive, did the same. 

Carla was their first dry spell. Alex had met her at some mixer. She was also pre-med, though with a focus on orthopedics. For four months, Henry knew a sock on the door and his own hand. He remembered the day she and Alex split very vividly, as he’d come back to the dorm from the library and Alex had immediately dropped to his knees and took Henry into his mouth before he could put his backpack down. 

Two years later, both freshly graduated and interning at the same hospital, their second dry spell appeared in the form of Daniel. Daniel worked in the dermatology department of the hospital, and according to Alex, could make him see God with his tongue on, and in, his ass. That lasted six months, and once again, Henry made due with wearing headphones within their shared flat and bookmarking his favorite porn. When Alex informed Henry that Daniel would no longer be in the picture, Henry had bent him over their kitchen counter and proved that he could make Alex explore pantheons beyond his own. Twice. 

After that, there was a string of interns marching to and fro from Alex’s room, all the while Henry tried to ignore the burning in his gut at the idea of anyone else touching his best friend and pretended that everything was fine. 

By some miracle, they were accepted into the same residency program, continuing to share a flat, continuing to fuck around when Alex wasn’t partnered. Henry wasn’t really one for one night stands, but pretended that he wasn’t lonely for Alex’s sake. 

Three years into residency came Manda, and Henry really thought he’d lost Alex at that point. She lasted the last two years of their residency program, and Henry had to watch as Alex went ring shopping, acting as if it didn’t hurt. But Manda wasn’t a medical professional, she was a teacher. And all the odd shifts, the nights on call, the stress and exhaustion got to her. 

The end of that dry spell found Henry wrapping Alex in his arms as he cried, rocking him gently, encouraging him to lay next to him in bed, to close his eyes and try to get some sleep. 

They’d never slept in the same bed without sex before. 

They hadn’t since. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Traffic accidents were probably the most common cases the emergency department at the hospital got, in regards to particularly bloody traumas. Of course, Austin was a large city, prone to gun violence and drug overdoses and other fairly typical emergencies, but traffic accidents were by far the ones that Henry was called to the most. Sometimes they were simple. A quick neuro exam, in and out, move on to the next patient. 

Sometimes they weren’t.

“Don’t tell me that I’m looking at what I’m looking at,” Alex gasped as he walked into the radiology room where Henry was examining an x-ray. Henry nodded and sighed. 

“Yes, you are,” he said. “Atlanto-occipital dislocation.” 

“Holy fucking shit,” Alex mumbled, staring at the image. 

“Yes, quite,” Henry agreed. 

“And they’re awake?”

“Yes, though not entirely cognizant. She was on her way to a first date, I believe, and it seems that she is of the opinion that she’ll still be able to make it, despite the fact that it would have started,” he checked his watch, “about two hours ago.” 

“That’s fucking rough,” Alex said. “Need help?” 

“I don’t believe so,” Henry said as he continued to stare at the x-ray, trying to formulate a game plan in his head. “The MRI results should be up shortly, but we don’t have any reason to suspect major internal damage.” 

“Cool,” Alex said with a shrug. “Holler if you need me.” 

“Of course,” Henry replied softly as Alex left, eyes still fixated on the image. 

After outlining a game plan in his head, he made his way back to the trauma bay, where a nurse was checking on the patient’s vitals once more. The patient, a young woman, seemed half aware of what was going on, but Henry was relieved to see an older man standing with her. 

“Hello,” he greeted as he entered the bay. “Are you Emily’s relative?” he asked, and the man nodded. 

“Ray,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “Her father. She said she can’t move. Why can’t she move?” he asked, and Henry nodded. 

“I’m Dr. Fox, Ray. Emily has suffered a rather severe spinal injury, so it was deemed necessary to give her something that would help keep her still so she wouldn’t do more damage.” 

“A spinal injury?” Ray questioned. 

“Yes,” Henry said. “It appears as though Emily has suffered what is essentially an internal decapitation. The ligaments connecting her skull to the first vertebra of her spine have been severed.”

“Oh my God,” her father gasped, going pale, and Henry nodded. 

“I won’t lie to you, sir, it is quite serious. However, I’m confident that with surgery, we can get her sorted out.” 

“She’s never had surgery,” Ray said quickly. “I mean, she had her wisdom teeth taken out, but that doesn’t really count, does it? How long is it going to take? When is it going to happen? Is she going to be okay?”

“Ray,” Henry said, his voice low but firm. “Breathe.” He watched as her father took a couple of deep breaths, and waited for a bit of color to return to his cheeks. “I understand that this is all quite scary, but I can assure you, I will do everything in my power to take care of your daughter. This is what I do. Alright? She’s in good hands.” 

Ray looked from Henry to Emily, now sleeping on the gurney, and swallowed audibly. 

“Okay.” 

Henry went over the details of the surgery, about how long it should take, what would be involved. Just as he finished explaining the process he was paged, and said his goodbyes before heading into an entirely separate trauma bay. After that, it was a whirlwind of neuro exams and paperwork before he found himself changed into his scrubs, tying his beagle patterned scrub cap over his head and scrubbing in for the procedure. He always took this moment while he was scrubbing to center himself, to get himself where he needed to be mentally before surgery. So, of course, the soft moment of peace was interrupted by Alex striding into the room, also in his scrubs, a chili pepper scrub cap covering his curls. Henry frowned. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked as Alex grabbed a bar of soap. 

“Her MRI results show some pretty severe internal bleeding,” Alex said. “I’ve already talked to her dad about what’s going on, and he agreed that it made more sense for me to go in when you did so she didn’t have to go under twice.” 

“Bloody hell,” Henry muttered. “Alex, what I’m going to be doing is very delicate,” he started, but Alex was already nodding. 

“I know, Hen. I did some research into the mechanics of it, and I think I’ll be able to do my part without jarring her too much.” 

“If you’re sure,” Henry said with a deep breath. “Alright, let’s go then.” 

Of course, they weren’t an hour into their prospective procedures when it all went to hell. 

Out of nowhere, Emily began seizing, and Henry’s heart nearly stopped, even as he ordered the proper medication to be pushed. It took far longer than he’d have liked for it to end, and though they tried to keep her still, it wasn’t enough. As soon as it had passed, Henry ran the necessary checks, testing her pupillary reactions, her reflexes, and eventually called for an EEG to be run. As all of this happened, Alex continued his work, though he couldn’t stop from looking over at Henry whenever possible. He’d just finished suturing Emily’s stomach when the results of the EEG came up, and he looked over Henry’s shoulder and sighed. 

“Goddammit,” he cursed, and Henry nodded. 

“Yes,” he said before taking a steadying breath and moving back to Emily. “I’ll get her closed up, and go speak to Ray.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Alex said, and Henry shook his head. 

“That’s not necessary,” he said. “You did your job, and did it well.” 

“He’ll be expecting both of us anyway, Henry,” Alex pointed out, and Henry sighed. 

“Stubborn arse,” he mumbled and Alex chuckled. 

“Heard that. See you in a few.” 

Closing Emily up and getting her situated in the ICU didn’t take as long as Henry thought it would, and far sooner than he’d have liked, he found himself in the waiting room with Alex, searching out Ray. He was sitting hunched over, fiddling with the phone in his hands, and looked terrified when he saw Henry and Alex moving toward him. 

“What happened?” he asked immediately as they approached. “What’s wrong?” 

“Hey man,” Alex said, trying to exude calm. “Come with us for a minute, okay?” 

Ray seemed reluctant, but followed them anyway. Alex led them to one of the private rooms the hospital provided specifically for delivering devastating news. They usually had a desk, a few chairs, and most importantly, a door that closed. Henry closed the door behind them as Alex encouraged Ray to take a seat, choosing the chair across from him rather than behind the desk. Henry sat next to him. 

“What’s going on?” Ray asked. “Where’s Emily?”

“She’s in the ICU,” Henry explained, and hated how Ray visibly relaxed. 

“So she’s out of surgery,” he asked, and Henry nodded.

“Yes,” he answered. “But Ray, there were some… complications.” 

“What kind of complications?” he asked, and Henry tried to take a steadying breath. 

“While she was under, Emily suffered from a seizure. We don’t know exactly what caused it. There are a number of different reasons. But it seems that during the seizure, she moved too much, and it caused damage to her spinal cord.” He paused, hating the haunted look on the man’s face. “I’m sorry, Ray, but Emily is brain dead.” 

The man stared at Henry for a moment, as if he couldn’t comprehend. 

“Brain dead,” he repeated, and Henry nodded. 

“Yes.” 

“But… but people recover from that, right?” Ray asked, hope in his voice, and Henry had to work not to flinch. “People wake up from comas all the time.”

“Yes, they do sometimes,” Henry acknowledged. “But Emily isn’t in a coma, Ray. A person in a coma is unconscious, but alive. That’s not Emily. The only reason her heart is beating right now is because she’s on life support.”

“But she can come back,” Ray insisted, his face going hard. 

Henry swallowed. He hated this. When they were trained on delivering bad news to patients, they were told to be empathetic, but to use plain words, so there was no room for miscommunication. He had to say it, even if it was going to hurt. 

“No, Ray, she can’t.” 

He watched as several emotions passed over the man’s face in quick succession. He waited to see what he would settle on. 

“You said you’d take care of her.” Anger. “You said she was in good hands,” he hissed. Before Henry could respond, Ray was standing. Grabbing the collar of his scrub top. Hauling him to his feet. “She was 19!” he cried, spit flying from his lips. 

In a move so quick he barely saw it, Ray’s fist connected with Henry’s face. Pain bloomed, but Henry couldn’t let himself focus on that while Ray was rearing back for another swing. 

“Hey!” Alex hollered as he kicked his chair back and charged forward. Despite being a full head and a half shorter than Ray, he pulled him off of Henry and pressed him against the wall. “You don’t get to do that,” he said, his voice low and threatening. 

“He killed my little girl!” Ray screamed, and Alex shook him. 

“He tried his hardest to save her life!” he returned. “Do you understand just how broken she was? The damage that was done to her body? God himself couldn’t have fixed it, Ray, and Dr. Fox isn’t God, but he sure as hell tried.” 

Ray was huffing hard, trying to get a breath, his hands shaking against Alex’s shoulders as he glared at Henry from over his head. Henry just stared back at him, waiting. It felt like hours before Ray’s shoulders relaxed, and his hands fell away. The rage on his face was replaced with pure, unfiltered sorrow, and his eyes filled with tears. 

“She was 19,” he gasped, his eyes still fixated on Henry, and Henry nodded. 

“I know,” he said, his voice soft. 

Alex let the man go slowly, and Ray stumbled over to Henry, who stood his ground. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, and Henry shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I understand.” 

Before he could blink, he had his arms full of a sobbing man. He wrapped his arms around Ray, holding him tightly as he let his head fall to Henry’s shoulder. Alex came forward and placed a hand on Ray’s back, rubbing soothingly. As the man cried, Henry’s heart shattered, and he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as he whispered into the nearly silent room.

“I’m sorry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need ice on that,” Alex said as they entered the lounge, looking at Henry’s face. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Henry dismissed as he crossed the room to his cubby. Alex tsked behind him. 

“Now who’s stubborn?” he grumbled as he opened the freezer. 

Henry had taken a seat on the couch, letting his head fall against the back of it, his eyes closed. He listened as Alex rummaged around, muttering Spanish expletives to himself. Henry was weighing the pros and cons of reporting the incident, whether or not Shaan would give him a stern talking to for staying quiet, whether or not Zahra would encourage him to press charges, whether or not he could convince others that it was an accident at home. Alex’s footsteps moved towards him, and Henry sat back up, looking around for him, only to jump a little at seeing him crouched in front of him, holding an ice pack. Henry sighed. 

“I’m fine, Alex,” he insisted, and Alex frowned.

“Henry, your cheek is purple,” he stated before shaking the ice pack in his hand. “Come on.” 

With a groan Henry reached for the ice pack, knowing Alex wouldn’t let up until he accepted it. But Alex just held it out of his reach and arched his eyebrow. Henry huffed. 

“I am perfectly capable-” 

“Of letting someone else take care of you,” Alex interrupted, giving Henry a challenging glare. Henry returned the look for a moment before rolling his eyes and leaning forward so that his face was within Alex’s reach. 

“You’re a menace,” he mumbled, and Alex smirked at him as he moved out of his crouch so he could rest on his knees. 

“Oh yeah, talk dirty to me baby,” he teased as he raised the ice pack to Henry’s cheek. 

Henry couldn’t help but flinch at the cold on the tender spot, but valiantly stayed still. Alex’s other hand came up to cup the opposite cheek, his thumb brushing against the skin softly, and Henry closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch. The silence enveloped them for a minute, letting Henry focus only on the throbbing in his cheek, the cold against his skin, and Alex’s grounding touch. Of course, Alex couldn’t let the silence go on for long. 

“You okay?” he asked, and Henry nodded slowly, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Yes,” he said. 

It wasn’t a lie, per se. Physically, he was fine. He was sure he’d bruise, and he really did think he wouldn’t be able to keep it from Shaan. But he’d sustained worse injuries than this. Mentally though? Emotionally? Well, he didn’t want to examine that too closely right now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You paged for a consult?” Henry asked as he entered the scrub room where Alex was standing at the sinks.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got Bryce Walden. She’s a construction foreman who was working on a project downtown. She had a seizure and fell. Unfortunately, it was right in the path of-” 

“Oh my God,” Henry gasped as his eyes landed on the patient through the window.

“Yeah,” Alex sighed as he crossed his arms and looked at Bryce. 

The patient had been practically eviscerated, massive gashes across her belly and chest already nearly soaking through the bandages that had already been applied.

“The bucket of the excavator came down on her while she was seizing,” Alex continued to explain. “She’s had several more seizures since she came in.” 

“I won’t know anything without scans,” Henry started, and Alex nodded. 

“Get in there and run an EEG, if you don’t mind,” he said. “You won’t get in our way, I promise. And once she’s done here, you can take her for more imaging.” 

Henry nodded and went to change quickly. But as he entered the OR to prepare for the test, he stopped in his tracks. 

“We need more O neg!” Alex practically screamed as a jet of blood pulsed out of the open cavity in front of him. 

“They’re bringing it!” one of the nurses replied. 

Henry watched in horror as blood continued to pour, spraying Alex’s gloves, his gown, the floor. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Alex mumbled, his eyes bouncing around as his fingers flew, trying to suture whatever was bleeding so profusely. Henry couldn’t see from his position by the door. “You’ve got places to go and people to boss around. You got this.” 

The monitor flatlined, and Alex growled as he moved faster. One of the nurses began CPR, grunting with the exertion of it as Alex worked harder. Henry watched in stunned silence as one minute turned to five, and then ten, and then twenty. Alex had taken over the chest compressions at that point, and Henry could see the sweat soaking his scrub cap. 

“Alex,” he said softly. Alex ignored him. “Alex,” he repeated, louder and more firm, and Alex’s head whipped up to look at him. “She’s lost too much blood.” 

Alex looked from Henry to the patient, huffing loudly, before stopping the compressions. The tone of the monitor echoed in the room around them, and Alex continued to stay silent, still staring. Henry cleared his throat and glanced at the clock. 

“Time of death: 14:23.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When was the last time you went on a date?” 

Henry nearly choked on his drink before hitting Alex with a fierce look. 

“Excuse me? Where did that come from?” he asked, and Alex shrugged as he licked the salt from his hand, slammed his shot of tequila, and bit into the lime in front of him. 

“I dunno,” he said. “I had a date last week, and she said she knew a guy who was also single, and a nerd, and I was like ‘hey, I know a nerd too, maybe we can get them together’.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“But then I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time you went on an actual honest to God date. So when was that?” Alex asked, fixing Henry with a stare. 

“I go on dates,” Henry said defensively, even as his cheeks went pink. 

“Okay. When?” Alex questioned. Henry stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how to answer the question without lying, then trying to come up with a decent lie, then simply gave up and took a massive sip of his drink. “Come on, Hen, the last date I remember you going on was, like, junior year with that psych major.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Henry muttered with a shudder. “Toothiest blow job I’ve ever gotten in my life.” 

“But you’ve been on dates since then, right?” Alex insisted. 

Rather than try to devise a lie that Henry knew Alex would see through in a second, he just shook his head. 

“But you’ve hooked up?” Alex continued, and Henry shook his head again, then grimaced at Alex’s gasp. “Oh my God, Henry, what the fuck?” 

“I’ve been busy!” Henry said defensively. “As you bloody well know!” 

“You’re telling me that between junior year and now, you’ve been on exactly zero dates, and have only slept with me?”

“Just announce it to the whole bar, Alex,” Henry grumbled. 

“Why? You’re a fucking catch, Hen! What’s stopping you?” 

Henry had to take another sip to stop himself from answering the way he wanted to. 

“I am perfectly content with how I’m living my life right now, and how I’m spending my downtime,” Henry said instead. “I have other ways to entertain myself, you know. You’ve seen the box under my bed.” 

“So you’re 100% satisfied with silicone when you could easily be out at the club snagging a hot piece of ass?” Alex countered, and Henry groaned before downing the rest of his drink, pulling a 20 out of his wallet, slapping it on the bar, and turning to face Alex. 

“I am not unhappy with my sex life, Alexander,” he growled. “I am not unhappy with my life at all. I am unhappy with this line of questioning, especially since I was planning on inviting you back to mine for a while. Now, would you like to come home with me, or would you like to continue to piss me off until I leave and send you pictures showing you exactly what you missed out on tonight?”

Either Henry has suddenly gotten good at lying to Alex, or Alex is so focused on the low, seductive timbre of Henry’s voice that he’s willing to see past the two false statements at the beginning of Henry’s speech. Either way, Alex was out of the bar stool and dragging him out the door by his wrist in a flash. 

The distraction of sinking down onto Alex was beautiful. He always knew exactly where to dig his fingers into Henry’s thighs, exactly how to thrust up when Henry thrust down, exactly what words to say to help him reach his end. 

And if, when Alex left, Henry stared at the ceiling for hours, completely unable to fall asleep as images of operating rooms and echoes of “time of death” bounced around in his head, that was no one’s business but his. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Incoming trauma,” Alex called as he stuck his head into the attending’s lounge, pulling Henry from his writing. “Bike accident.” 

Henry hopped up from the table, abandoning his notebook, and followed Alex down to the emergency department. 

“What do we know?” he asked as they raced through the hospital. 

“Patient is 7 years old, was biking in her neighborhood with her family, got hit by a car,” Alex shot off. “She wasn’t wearing her helmet.”

“Christ,” Henry spat as they reached the ambulance bay. 

“The mom is in the ambulance with her, the dad is following them in,” Alex added, and Henry nodded. 

“Did they give you anything else?” he asked as they watched the parking lot, ears listening for the sounds of sirens. 

“Just that there was an amputation,” Alex sighed. “She’s lost her right arm at the elbow. The EMTs are bringing it with them, but it didn’t appear to be salvageable.” 

“Fuck,” Henry muttered, and Alex gave a fierce nod as they saw the ambulance appear, lights and sirens blaring. 

“Yup.” 

As soon as the doors to the ambulance opened, the EMTs were rattling off the important details. Henry listened, though he knew they were mainly speaking to Alex, as he would be taking point. As they talked and walked, a woman followed behind, her eyes distraught, her hands shaking. She tried to follow them into the trauma bay, and a nurse had to hold her back so that Henry and Alex could get care established first. 

It was rough.

Her hair was deep red from blood seeping from an unknown head wound. Her legs were very obviously broken, sitting at unnatural angles. And then there was the arm, missing as the EMTs had warned. They hadn’t, of course, explained just how violently the appendage had been ripped from the girl’s body. If she was able to keep the rest of the arm at all, Henry would have been surprised. 

The most incredible part of the whole thing was that she was awake. Henry could see the fear in her eyes, the pain in the way she set her jaw, and even as he checked her pupils, he gave her a comforting smile. 

“Hello darling,” he said softly. “My name is Dr. Fox. Can you tell me your name?” 

He watched as she tried to form the words, watched as she struggled to take a breath, made a mental note to express concerns about a collapsed lung to Alex. 

“B-B-Beatrice,” she mumbled, and he nodded even as his stomach churned.

“That’s a very pretty name,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “Do you mind if I call you Bea?” he asked, and she tried to nod, despite the c-collar around her neck. “Alright Bea. Can you tell me how old you are?” 

“I’m 7,” she whispered. 

“You’re practically a grown up, huh?” he asked, and she gave a watery smile. 

“Not yet,” she said. “But I can ride without training wheels now.” 

“Not even I can do that,” Henry said, and Bea laughed at that, before wincing. “Can you tell me what hurts the most, darling?” he asked. 

“My arm,” she said slowly. “And my head… the room is kind of spinny.” 

“I’m sure it is,” he said soothingly. 

“My tummy feels weird too,” she continued. “And my chest.” 

“Well we’re going to take care of that for you,” Henry assured. 

“Hey Hen, do you think you can talk to this young lady’s mom?” Alex asked as he came over. 

“Of course,” Henry said with a nod before giving Bea one more smile. “I’ll be back shortly, darling, but Dr. Claremont-Diaz is going to take good care of you, alright? He’s very good.” 

As he turned, Alex began to speak to her, and one word stood out among all the rest. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” 

His steps faltered, but he schooled his expression as he stepped outside the trauma bay to speak to her mother. She was staring through the door, arms crossed against her chest, eyes wide and unblinking. 

“Ma’am,” he said softly, trying to get her attention, and she jumped as if he’d startled her. “Are you Beatrice’s mother?” he asked.

“Bea,” she corrected, as if it was second nature, “and yes, I’m Mrs. Sampson. Bonnie. You can call me Bonnie. Or Mrs. Sampson. I don’t really care.” 

“Bonnie,” Henry said with a nod. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?” 

“We were out riding,” she said, her eyes back at the door. “We were in our neighborhood, and we were keeping to the side of the street. We don’t have sidewalks. I don’t know why. But we’d stopped, because her helmet was too loose, so she’d taken it off so that her father could adjust the straps.” She stopped, her eyes far away. “The car came out of nowhere.” 

“I see,” Henry said as a little of his previous anger bled out. At least the lack of helmet wasn’t due to neglect. He didn’t know if he’d be able to stomach that. “As I’m sure you can see, your daughter’s injuries are very extreme. We’re going to do everything we can-” 

“Get a crash cart!” Alex’s voice cried, cutting through the emergency department. Henry’s head whipped around, watching through the doors as activity picked up in the bay. 

“No,” Bonnie gasped. 

Henry was at the gurney in an instant, his eyes roaming to take in every bit of information he could. The heart monitor, her tanking blood pressure, her plummeting oxygen levels. Alex was barking orders, calling for medication to be pushed and for her airway to be cleared, and Henry followed his instructions to the letter, even as his blood froze in his veins. Even as he paid attention to Alex and the other nurses and doctors, it was like he was hyper focused on what was going on outside the room. 

“Bon! Bon, what’s going on?”

“They called for a crash cart. They- oh God Daryl, our baby!” 

“Sir, ma’am, please, we need you to step aside.” 

“Our baby, oh God, my baby!”

“Charging to 50,” Alex’s voice cut through, and Henry quickly removed his hands from the patient. “Clear.” 

The sound of the defibrillator discharging jolted through Henry as if he’d been the one under the paddles. All eyes fell on the monitor. No change. 

“Charging to 60,” Alex growled, and everyone around the gurney watched. “Clear.” 

No change. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Alex muttered as he fiddled with the machine. “Charging to 75. Clear!” 

The heart monitor flatlined. 

Henry watched, detached, as Alex began chest compressions, as he called for more medication to be pushed. Time sped up as it stood still, the background noise faded, and all he could focus on was Alex, sweat glistening on his forehead, and Bea, pale and lifeless on the gurney. 

And then it was over. 

“Time of death.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He worked the rest of his shift as if he was watching himself from outside of his body, floating untethered in the space above. He was polite to his coworkers, empathetic to his patients, did his paperwork, performed his duties. 

Avoided Alex. 

Because truly, he couldn’t deal. If he had to spend a single second alone with him after that, he would shatter. 

So instead of meeting up with Alex to carpool back to his home like usual, he sent him a text saying he found a different ride home, and that he’d see him tomorrow. Then he ordered an Uber. Rode home in silence. Made it through the door, kicking his shoes off and tearing his tie away from his neck like it had bitten him. Collapsed onto the couch, barely registering David’s cold nose against his hand. 

Called Bea. 

It was at some point during their second hour on the phone that Henry registered a body sitting on the couch next to him. He turned his head, confused when Alex’s worried face came into view. 

“What are you-”

“Bea texted me,” Alex explained. Henry looked down at the screen, his sister’s face full of concern. “I’m here now,” Alex said to her, and she nodded and waved, saying her goodbyes before hanging up. 

“Why-”

“Because you need someone here right now,” Alex said. 

“Alex, I’m-”

“If you say you’re fine, I’m going to kick your perfect white ass from here to next Tuesday,” he said sternly. “You’re not fine, Henry. You’ve not been fine for a long ass time. I just don’t know why you’ve been trying to hide it.” 

“Because it doesn’t matter, does it?” Henry scoffed. “It doesn’t matter if I’m fine or not. People need me to be fine, so I’m fine. I get up and I’m fine. I go to work and I’m fine. I do my surgeries and I’m fine. I call time of death and I’m fine.” He couldn’t stop the derision from seeping into the last word. “Just leave it, okay?” Henry added as he stood and made his way to the kitchen. 

“No dice, sweetheart,” Alex said as he followed him, and Henry physically flinched. 

“Don’t call me that,” he said quickly, keeping his eyes on the box of tea bags in his hands, ignoring how they trembled in his fingers. “Anything else.” 

Alex’s footsteps stopped, and Henry continued with his movements, flicking on the electric kettle, pulling the instant coffee from the cupboard, spooning far too much into a second mug for Alex. Silence filled the space until the kettle whistled and Henry fixed their drinks. He handed Alex the mug, not looking up at his face, before taking a sip of his tea, the scalding liquid burning his tongue. 

“Do you know why I call them sweetheart?” Alex asked, and Henry shook his head, keeping his eyes on his mug. “Because no one should leave this world without one more kind word,” Alex said quietly. “They’re already scared. They’re already dying, and most of the time they know it, even if they haven’t accepted it yet. I can’t stand the thought of them leaving without showing them that someone, somewhere, loves them. Even if it’s a complete stranger. No one deserves to go without love.” 

Henry nodded. 

“I figured it was something like that,” he said softly. “You’ve got such a big heart, Alex. It’s so easy for you to do this. And you’re so good, darling,” he added, finally letting his eyes flick up to Alex’s face. His expression was unreadable, and Henry let his gaze fall again. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really I am. But…” 

“But?” Alex repeated.

“Christ, Alex, I’m just so fucking tired.”

And suddenly, the tears he’d been struggling to hold back, the panic he’d been shoving deeper and deeper, the pain and the heartache and the exhaustion all crept up on him. He hissed as tea spilled from his mug and onto his hand from the trembling, but a hand was already removing it from his grip and setting it aside. Strong arms enveloped him, and Henry finally let himself shake apart in a way he’d not allowed in a long time. 

When he came back to himself, Alex had led him into this ensuite. The shower was already running, and his shirt was already on the floor. Henry sniffled pathetically and shook his head. 

“No, Alex, please, I can-” 

Lips pressed into his, and Henry let himself sink into the warmth of them, the comfort. It wasn’t the heated kiss of pent up frustration or a desperate need to disappear. It was soft. Like a hug. Like home. And he couldn’t help but feel horrendously bereft when Alex pulled away. 

“Shut the fuck up, Henry, and let me take care of you,” he said, his voice low and stern. 

So Henry did. 

He let Alex step into the shower with him, let him wash his hair, scrub his body. Let him dry him with a soft towel. Let him pull his favorite sweater over his head. Let him shuffle them both into his bed. Let him hold him tightly. 

Let his warm and soothing presence pull confessions from his lips. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do it, Alex,” he whispered, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to see Alex’s face. “I just don’t know how much longer I can handle it all.”

Alex stayed quiet for a moment, whether to fully comprehend what Henry had said, or to craft his response, Henry didn’t know. But finally he spoke up. 

“What do you want to do instead?” he asked, and Henry relaxed in his arms. He’d half expected Alex to try and convince him to stay, to keep up with his work. To cite hours upon hours of study, thousands of dollars in schooling, as a reason to not give it up. 

But this was Alex. Alex knew him. And that thought soothed Henry’s soul as much as it broke his heart. 

“I think I’d like to try my hand at being a writer,” Henry said quietly. 

“You mean I’d finally get a chance to read your poetry?” Alex teased, and Henry gave a small smile. 

“Sure,” he said, even though he knew that was a lie. Alex could never read his poetry. 

It was all about him, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was complete pandemonium. 

Every available intern, resident, and attending was in the emergency department, trying to sort through the mess. In between triaging patients, getting them sent to the right departments or the right ORs, news alerts kept his phone vibrating in his pocket. 

“AUSTIN PRIDE MASSACRE: 12 CONFIRMED DEAD, DOZENS MORE INJURED”

But Henry swiped those away before pulling up his and Alex’s text thread. 

“I bet you’re so jealous that I asked for today off and you’re stuck there.” 

“I just got beaned with several handfuls of candy. I think I’ll have to call in tomorrow. Might have a concussion. Tootsie Rolls are hard!” 

“They’ve got some really nice floats this year!” 

“Okay, collect your money with whomever you were betting with. It only took me an hour before having to take my shirt off. It’s not my fault though! Someone spilled an icee on me!” 

And then silence. 

And then the news came through. 

And in between dealing with the influx of patients, Henry couldn’t stop himself from stepping away and trying to call Alex, resorting to text messages when they went unanswered. 

“Alex, what’s going on? Are you alright?” 

“You and I both know the news likes to scare people. Is it as bad as they say?” 

“You’ve been texting me all bloody morning, and now is when you choose to go silent??”

“ALEXANDER GABRIEL ANSWER YOUR PHONE”

“Love?”

“Dr. Fox,” an intern called, and Henry shoved his phone back in his pocket as he hurried forward, trying to push his worry aside. “This is the last one they’re sending our way,” she explained as they rushed to the ambulance bay, the siren already getting closer. 

“Good, because we’ve only got one trauma bay left, and we’re already diverting other emergent cases to other hospitals,” Henry sighed as they watched the ambulance turn into the parking lot. The ambulance parked, and the back doors opened, an EMT hopping out and immediately relaying information to Henry as the other began to unload the patient. 

“Patient is a Latino male, age 34, GSW to the abdomen, chest, and right shoulder. BP is-” 

“- 80 over 50, heart rate is about 165, and I could really use some fucking morphine,” the patient said from the gurney, and Henry’s heart nearly stopped as Alex looked up at him, a cocky smile on his face even as it was twisted from pain. 

“Alex!” he cried. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Alex said, his voice a little weak, his face pale. 

“Oh my God,” Henry muttered as they maneuvered into the last trauma bay. “Oh my God.” 

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” Alex teased through a groan as he was transferred to the hospital bed. 

Henry was frozen. He couldn’t move. All he could do was stare as people swarmed Alex, as Alex walked a nervous intern through placing an IV, even as he was bleeding and hurt. His best friend was bleeding and hurt. His… his everything was bleeding and hurt, and he was just standing there. Staring. 

“Dr. Fox,” came a no nonsense voice, and Henry turned to see Shaan entering the room. 

“Dr. Srivastava,” Henry said with a nod. 

“Why don’t you let me handle this?” Shaan asked, looking over at Alex. 

“No sir,” Henry started to insist, but Shaan put a hand on his shoulder. 

“We don’t work on friends, family, and loved ones,” Shaan said sternly. 

“Alex isn’t-” Henry started, but stopped as soon as Shaan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes sir,” he said instead. 

“You can stay a moment to speak with him, but stay to the side,” Shaan said, and Henry nodded before moving forward. 

“What a way to go out,” Alex chuckled weakly as Henry reached the side of the bed, and Henry allowed a small smile. 

“You’re the one who decided that a Pride parade was more important than my last day here,” he teased, and Alex rolled his eyes. 

“Take it up with the city of Austin, baby,” he said before adding in a conspiratorial whisper, “I was going to stop by at the end of your shift. We were gonna throw you a party.” 

“I know,” Henry stage whispered back. “I saw the cake in the fridge.” 

Alex opened his mouth to throw back some kind of retort, but groaned and closed his eyes. Henry instinctively reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Shaan’s going to take care of you,” Henry said, and Alex raised an eyebrow. 

“Damn, I’m not that important,” he said, but Henry shook his head. 

“When the Chief of Surgery wants to be your doctor, you let him,” Henry scolded. 

“As long as he doesn’t call in-”

“What the hell did you do, kid?” Zahra scoffed as she stepped into the room, and Alex sighed heavily through a wince. 

“Hey Z,” he said, giving her a weak wave with his unoccupied hand. “I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, we’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered as she glanced at his monitor. “Heart rate is going down,” she said, and Shaan nodded. 

“BP could be a little higher though,” he added. 

“I’ll get to work on that,” Alex said, and neither of them acknowledged the joke. “Tough crowd,” he muttered to Henry, who chuckled. 

“They’re busy. Let them take care of you, darling.” 

“Oooh, pet names,” Alex said with a dopey grin. “You know how much I like those.” 

“I see the morphine is kicking in,” Henry said, and the intern across from him nodded as they disposed of the needle. 

“Nah, I like ‘em even when I’ve not been shot,” Alex insisted, his grip in Henry’s hand weakening slightly. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurting as much,” Henry said. “Listen, I’m going to go and let Shaan and Zahra take care of you, alright? But I’ll have them page me with updates.”

“No, don’t leave,” Alex gasped, his grip tightening briefly. 

“Heart rate is still going down,” Zahra said, a frown on her face as she watched the monitor. 

“Don’ leave me, Hen,” Alex repeated, his words a little slurred, and Henry shook his head, eyes bouncing from the heart monitor to Alex’s face. 

“I won’t, sweetheart,” he said quickly. “I promise.” 

Alex’s brows dipped in a frown as alarms began to ring throughout the room. 

“BP’s too low,” Shaan said quickly. 

“The bullet must have nicked an artery,” Zahra huffed. “His heart rate is dropping too fast.” 

“Sweetheart?” Alex repeated, his voice weak. “I’m that bad off?” 

“Alex, you’re going to be fine,” Henry insisted. 

“Shit,” Alex mumbled. “Issit t’ late t’ tell you ‘m ‘n love wi’ you?” he whispered. 

And then his hand slipped out of Henry’s grasp. 

“Alex,” Henry gasped, his blood running cold as more alarms began to sound. 

“We gotta go!” Zahra hollered. “Call down, get an OR ready,” she barked at an intern, who squeaked in fear and scurried away. 

“Alex!” Henry cried, grabbing the limp hand once more. 

“Henry, we have to go!” Zahra snapped, and Henry looked up at her, his vision blurry with unshed tears. He knew she was right. Time was of the essence. He released Alex’s hand like it was on fire, took two steps back, his back hitting the wall with a solid thunk. 

“Please,” he gasped, and Shaan nodded. 

“We’ve got him, Henry,” he assured. 

“Not if we don't get him to the OR now,” Zahra growled, grabbing the foot of the bed. “Come on, y’all, we’re running!”

And in a flash, silence overwhelmed the once busy space. All that was left was blood on the floor. Henry stared at that spot for an immeasurable amount of time before pulling his phone out of his pocket, shakily scrolling through his contacts, and pressing the call button. 

“June?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before he scrubbed in, Shaan had graciously given Henry permission to take over the attending’s lounge instead of a waiting room when Henry explained that Alex’s family was heading to the hospital. Ellen and Oscar had been Henry’s next call after June. Oscar was pricing tickets into Austin while Ellen was trying to get to the hospital amidst the crazy traffic and her duties as Mayor. June and Nora had been at the lake house, and Henry made June promise that they’d travel safe.

Ellen arrived first, led into the attending’s lounge by a nurse. She swept Henry up into a hug, and he took a deep breath and tried to let her presence steady himself. 

“Oh sugar,” she murmured, and he took another breath before pulling away. 

“He’ll be okay,” he said fiercely, ignoring how his voice cracked on the last word, and she nodded. 

“Of course he will,” she said. “He’s too god damn stubborn to be anything other than okay, isn’t he?” 

Her phone rang then, and Henry let her step away to answer it. He knew she was probably dealing with absolute insanity in regards to what happened. So he brewed a pot of coffee, to do something with his hands, then continued his pacing. 45 minutes after he’d hung up with Alex’s sister, June burst through the door of the lounge, took one look at everyone, and launched herself at Henry, who caught her easily. 

“This isn’t safe driving,” he muttered in her hair. “The lake house is an hour away.” 

“I ran the numbers,” Nora said as she entered the lounge. “The fastest we could drive without tempting fate.” 

“Besides, you know we’d break the sound barrier to be here, Hazza,” Pez piped up as he walked through the door, and June let Henry go so that he could cross the room to scoop up his oldest friend. 

“What are you doing here?” Henry gasped. 

“I was at the lake house,” Pez explained with a grin, and Henry rolled his eyes. 

“And you couldn’t let your best mate know you were in the state?” he teased. 

“It was in the plans!” Pez assured. 

“You know, I don’t bloody care, I’m just glad you’re here,” Henry said quietly, tears once again forming. 

“Oh Haz, he’ll be okay,” Pez said softly, and Henry gave a choked sob. 

“What if he’s not?” he gasped. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Pez said softly, and a memory, a realization hit Henry like a freight train. 

“Oh my fucking Christ,” he mumbled. 

“What?” June asked from somewhere behind him. 

“I called him sweetheart,” Henry said. 

“And?” Nora asked. “You call each other names all the time.” 

“No, you don’t understand,” Henry said, his breathing speeding up. “Alex, he calls patients sweetheart when they’re- when they aren’t going to- and then I called him sweetheart, so he must have thought I meant- oh God, and then he passed out before anyone could explain-” 

“Henry, you need to breathe-”

“He thought he was going to die, June, he passed out thinking he was going to die-” 

“Henry!” June cried, stepping in front of him and gripping his cheeks in her hands, forcing him to focus on her. “Breathe with me, okay?” 

And he’d been breathing his whole life, so why was it suddenly such a fucking struggle to inhale? To exhale? But he tried, and slowly his heart rate calmed, his head stopped spinning, and his shaking abated slightly. He allowed her to lead him to the massive leather couch, found himself sandwiched between June and Pez with Nora perched on the coffee table in front of them. He could faintly hear Ellen still on the phone, but otherwise tried to focus on his breathing. 

And then a nurse entered the room. 

Everyone stood as he entered, looking around at them all, his face unreadable. 

“Mayor Claremont?” he asked, and Ellen walked over. “I have an update on your son’s condition. Would you like to step into the hall?” 

“We’re his family,” June said a little irritably. “We should be able to hear too.” 

“June, HIPAA exists for a reason,” Henry pointed out before addressing the nurse, a man named Jonathan that worked well with patients on the OR recovery ward. “We’ll step out,” he said. 

“June?” Jonathan asked. “You’re on his emergency contact list. You can stay.” 

“Oh thank God,” June muttered, collapsing back onto the couch. Henry gave her an encouraging smile as he, Pez, and Nora began to make their way to the door. But then Jonathan spoke up again. 

“Dr. Fox? You’re on his emergency contact list as well. You can stay, if you’d like.” 

Henry stopped in the doorway, shocked. Alex had never told him he was his emergency contact. When Henry had made Alex his, he’d explained that it was necessary, as Henry’s family was overseas. Alex had joked that their 10+ year friendship obviously had nothing to do with it, and Henry had rolled his eyes at him, and they’d dropped it. When did Alex add Henry to his list? 

“Alright,” Jonathan said. “As of right now, Alex is stable. He’s going to be in surgery for a while longer though. Dr. Srivastava and Dr. Bankston want to be very thorough.”

“Should I be concerned that the head cardiothoracic surgeon is working on my son?” Ellen asked, and Jonathan shook his head. 

“It’s not anything to do with the severity of his injuries, ma’am,” he assured. “Dr. Bankston was simply the surgeon on call.” 

“And the Chief of Surgery?”

“Sha- Dr. Srivastava is working on Alex as a favor to me,” Henry said, and Ellen nodded. 

“I see,” she said. “Can you tell me anything else?”

“No ma’am,” Jonathan said. “It’s too soon to tell much, but Dr. Bankston insisted I come and give y’all an update now, before you climb the walls. Her words, not mine,” he added with a small smile, and Ellen returned it. 

“Sounds like Zahra,” she said. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Of course.”

They watched him slip out of the room, then watched as Pez and Nora practically tripped over themselves to get back in, worry on their faces. 

“Stable,” Ellen said, and they relaxed a touch. “We don’t know how much longer he’ll be under though.”

“But he’s stable,” Nora repeated, and June nodded. 

“Yes. Stable.” 

The air in the room lightened slightly, and Ellen looked at her phone as it pinged in her hand. 

“Leo will be here soon with food,” she said before looking at Henry. “No offense, sugar, but the last thing we need is that nasty ass hospital stuff.” 

“I bring my lunch for a reason, Ellen,” Henry pointed out, and she nodded. 

Sure enough, 20 minutes later Leo walked in, laden with pizza boxes. Though he didn’t have much of an appetite, Henry nibbled on a slice. Every now and then a colleague would stop by and ask for news on Alex, or wish Henry well on his next adventure, and Henry would respond as best he could. But truthfully, he couldn’t care less about what he was going to do with his life now. 

Not if Alex wasn’t going to be in it. 

Finally, finally, Shaan and Zahra were walking through the door. The low level of chatter stopped the second they walked through the door, still wearing their scrubs. Their eyes found Henry first, and Henry wished he could read minds, because he couldn’t wait for them to speak. He needed to know now. Instead he watched as Pez, Nora, and Leo left the room, though it obviously pained them to do so. Henry was standing at the window, nursing a cup of tea, while June and Ellen found their way to the couch. He wanted to join them, wanted to sink down next to them, hold June’s hand, feel the comfort of it melt into him. 

But something held him back. 

“He’s out,” Zahra said bluntly, and the bubble of tension in the room popped almost audibly. “He’s in the recovery unit right now, and we can’t allow visitors until he’s in the ICU, and even then, only a couple at a time.”

“What was the damage?” Ellen asked, and Shaan took a deep breath. 

“His shoulder will be fine. The bullet missed all the major bones, tendons, and ligaments. He’ll barely need any physical therapy, truthfully.” 

“He’ll still be able to perform surgery?” Henry asked, his voice gruff from disuse, and Shaan nodded. 

“I don’t foresee any problems with the arm.” 

“Good,” June said with a nod. “He’d go batshit without being able to use his hands.” 

“His heart was, well, the best way to say it is grazed,” Zahra continued. “The pulmonary valve was damaged, but truthfully, it was an easy fix. The kid is damn lucky, too. It could have been much, much worse.” 

Those words, damn lucky, bounced around the room. Henry tried not to focus on them. 

“His biggest issue was his abdominal wound,” Shaan said. “His gallbladder was hit. The loss of blood was the main issue there, but once we removed the rest of the organ we were able to suture him up.” Shaan paused here, and Henry’s knees went weak. Rather than collapse, he leaned against the windowsill, setting the mug down to wrap his arms around his chest. 

“Tell us, Shaan,” he said quietly. 

“Alex’s pancreas was also hit,” he said softly. “It was very badly damaged. We tried to repair it, but in the end, it wasn’t salvageable, and had to be removed. Alex is going to be living with diabetes for the rest of his life.”

“Oh my God,” June muttered. 

“How… how manageable is that?” Ellen asked. 

“With the proper medication regimen, there’s no reason that Alex can’t live a full life with very little complications,” Shaan assured. “It’ll take a little tinkering to figure out the correct course of medications, but I’m confident that Alex is going to handle it well.” 

“When can we see him?” Henry asked quietly. 

“Henry, you know the protocol,” Zahra said, her tone nearly scolding, but affectionate. “As soon as he’s in the ICU, we’ll come get y’all, and you can go see him in pairs.” 

“We’ll send a nurse to come get you as soon as we can,” Shaan added. 

“Thank you both,” Ellen said as she stood. Shaan held a hand out, but she bypassed it completely and wrapped him in a hug. Henry nearly chuckled as his quick look of panic before he smoothed it out. “You saved my boy,” she whispered, and Henry could hear the emotion in her voice. “Thank you.” 

Zahra looked just as uncomfortable with the hug Ellen gave her, patting her back awkwardly, before the pair of them left the room. 

“How they managed to get married when they’re that allergic to affection is beyond me,” June said as she shook her head. 

“So? How is he?” Nora asked as she entered the room. 

Henry watched as Ellen and June related the news, still keeping back. It was ridiculous, really. He’d known Alex since medical school. He’d vacationed with him and his family. He’d had Alex join him in London. He was as much a part of the Claremont-Diaz family as Alex was a part of the Fox-Mountchristen family. So why did he feel like an interloper? An outsider? Like he shouldn’t be here? 

Henry quietly slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as silently as possible. He stepped over to the sink, leaning against it, staring at himself in the mirror as slurred words swam around in his head. 

“Issit t’ late t’ tell you ‘m ‘n love wi’ you?”

They started saying ‘I love you’ within a year of becoming friends. Alex was just naturally affectionate, there was no way to get around it. When they began to add sex to it, Alex never redefined what those words meant, so Henry left it alone, assuming the love hadn’t changed. 

When had it changed?

Or had it changed? Did Alex realize what he was saying? Was he scared, and saying the first thing that came to his morphine and pain addled brain? Did he mean it? 

But how could he mean it? Henry was just… well, he was just Henry. He wasn’t anything special, was he? And Alex… he was the fucking sun. He deserved someone who could keep up with him. Not a depressed ex-neurosurgeon who was free falling in life with no clue where to go next. 

No, he couldn’t have meant it. Only in Henry’s wildest dreams would he have meant it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jonathan came about an hour later, letting them know that Alex was situated in the ICU and ready for visitors. June and Ellen went first, of course, and while they were gone, Pez tried to keep everyone entertained with ideas of a coming home party for Alex once he was discharged. Henry just smiled along, though he couldn’t keep up enough energy to really get involved. When June and Ellen came back, their eyes immediately found Henry.

“He’s asking for you,” June said, and Henry tried to keep himself calm. 

“I was the last person with him,” he said. “It makes sense. But Nora and Pez should go next.” 

“We can wait,” Nora started, but Henry shook his head. 

“No, please. You two go,” he insisted. “I need to clean out my stuff anyway. I’ll go when you get back.” 

At that, Henry turned and strode over to his locker. He’d already cleared most of his stuff out throughout the week, but there were still a few things he needed to take to his car. He took his time, intentionally taking the long way to and from the parking lot, stopping to say farewell to a few people he knew he’d miss. By the time he was back to the lounge, Percy and Nora had returned, echoing June and Ellen by saying that Alex wanted to see him. Then there was no more avoiding it. 

It was time to get his heart broken. 

The ICU was quiet. Visiting hours were nearly over, so there weren’t many people lingering aside from personnel. Still, Henry made sure to be courteous, and try to not make much noise as he found Alex’s room. When he stepped inside, he nearly ran out again. 

He was paler than Henry had ever seen him. His hair was tangled, something he knew would annoy him to know end. Only one arm of his gown was on, as his right shoulder was covered in bandages. This meant that a portion of his chest was visible as well, the portion with a bandage on it. And somewhere underneath the gown, a third bandage was taped to his stomach. His eyes were closed, and for that, Henry was thankful. It allowed him a moment where he didn’t have to school his expression, didn’t have to worry about what Alex saw on his face. He could show every bit of fear and heartbreak, let the tears slip silently down his cheek, let the vulnerability shine through enough that he didn’t feel like it was going to tear him apart. 

“I can feel you staring, sweetheart,” Alex mumbled, keeping his eyes closed, and Henry let out a soft chuckle as he wiped his cheeks and moved to the chair at the side of the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, and it was Alex’s turn to chuckle, though it was accompanied with a wince. 

“Like I got shot and almost died,” he said, turning his head and finally opening his eyes, just as bright as ever. 

“Well, that makes sense,” Henry said lamely. His hands twitched in his lap, desperate to grab for Alex, but he held himself back. “Do you… do you remember much?” 

“You mean, do I remember confessing my love for you before passing out from internal bleeding?” Alex quipped, and Henry blushed deeply as he looked away, his eyes finding a loose thread on the blanket. 

“Ah, yes, that,” he said. “Well, you were extremely drugged, and in a severe amount of pain. I promise, I didn’t take it personally.” 

A pause, the silence heavy in the air, and then-

“Well that sucks. I kind of wanted you to take it very personally.” 

Henry looked up quickly, the frown on his face at odds with the grin on Alex’s.

“What?” he asked dumbly, and Alex rolled his eyes. 

“You’re kidding, right?” he returned. “Jesus, Hen, how many confessions do you need before you get it?” 

“I don’t understand,” Henry mumbled, and Alex sighed before holding out his hand. Henry took it on instinct, the strength in Alex’s squeeze comforting. 

“A couple of months ago at the bar,” he started, “I asked you when the last time you went on a date was. Hearing that you haven’t been out with anyone, been with anyone, other than me since junior year? It really made me think. I was worried that I was maybe stringing you along unintentionally, that I was using you.” 

“You’ve never used me in a way that I didn’t ask for,” Henry said quickly, and Alex nodded.

“I know that now, but in the moment, I was so scared that I was taking advantage of you somehow. That night, after I got home, I sat and I really thought about this, about us. And I realized that your feelings for me, they weren’t platonic best friend fuck buddy feelings.” 

“I wasn’t going to act on them-” 

“So,” Alex continued, talking over Henry’s interruption, “I sat with it for a while. I did a lot of internal digging. There was a lot of whiskey involved, if I’m being entirely honest. And one night, I finally realized that I was a complete and total dumbass, and that it’s been you the whole time. The whole time, Henry. It’s never not been you.

“But you were really going through it, and it felt wrong to just spring these feelings onto you when you were handling so much. So I was going to wait. Until today, actually. We were going to throw that farewell party and I was going to go to your place afterwards and tell you. But shit happens, and I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened without me telling you how I feel. And this is how I feel.”

Henry just stared at Alex for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what was being said. 

“I don’t… I’m not…” 

“I love you, Henry,” Alex said clearly, his face a mask of determination. “I am fully in love with you. I want to be with you, completely. Boyfriends, living in the same house, eating dinner together and arguing about who does the dishes and having crazy sex all over the furniture and eventually getting married because why the fuck wouldn’t we when we love each other so god damn much?”

His world was tilting on its axis. How could it not? When everything he’d told himself had just been crumpled up and tossed out the window, replaced by Alex’s utterances of love? And Henry was so tired of not allowing himself to be happy, to want things, to want this. In the end, it was easy for him to bring Alex’s hand to his lips, to kiss the skin of his knuckles, to let the tears fall unashamedly, to smile. 

“It’s about bloody time, you absolute idiot.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry hadn’t intended to be in London when the sex ban was lifted. 

Of course, leave it to his grandmother to shuffle off this mortal coil right when Alex was deemed recovered enough to once again engage in “strenuous physical activity”. 

Truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to go to the funeral to begin with. His grandmother had never liked him, not really, and he’d never really liked her, so what was the point? But his mum had asked him to attend, and he couldn’t say no, especially since he hadn’t seen the rest of his family in nearly a year. So he dutifully packed a bag, kissed Alex goodbye at the airport, and went. 

A week later found him back in Austin, standing in front of baggage claim, wondering for a moment if they’d lost his luggage.

“Is this yours?” a voice sounded, and Henry turned to see Alex grinning brightly at him, his luggage on the ground next to him. 

“Hello love,” Henry said softly as he strode forward and wrapped him in a careful hug. 

“It was on the other carousel,” Alex explained in between quick kisses. 

“Of course it was,” Henry said before stepping away and bending down to grab it, swatting Alex’s hand away. “Ah, no, I’ve got it,” he insisted, taking that hand in his own and letting them swing between them as they headed for the parking deck. 

“I’ve been cleared for heavy lifting!” Alex scoffed, and Henry rolled his eyes. 

“It won’t hurt to be a little extra cautious,” he said. 

“As long as you’re not so gentle when we get home, I don’t care,” Alex said, giving Henry a salacious look, and Henry blushed and rolled his eyes. 

“Keep it up and I’ll make you wait an extra week,” he teased, and Alex groaned.

“Why are you so mean to me?” he grumbled, and Henry smirked and pulled him close to plant a kiss to his cheek.

“Because you like it so much, darling.” 

Realistically, he knew they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of each other the second they walked through the door. So when Alex pressed him against the front door before it was even closed, Henry wasn’t surprised. He just dropped the luggage where he was standing, buried his hands in Alex’s curls, and devoured him. 

Alex’s moans were like pure music to his ears, and Henry worked at pulling more and more from him. He tangled their tongues together, nipped at his lips, tugged his hair just the right side of too much, loving the way Alex shivered at the attention. It was easy to back him down the hall and into his bedroom, even easier to switch their positions so that Alex was the one pressed against the door. Henry had barely pulled away before Alex was tearing his t-shirt off, reaching for the buttons on Henry’s own shirt, nearly pulling them off in his excitement. 

But then Henry’s eyes landed on Alex’s chest, and his heart stuttered, as it always did. 

The scars on his shoulder, chest, and stomach were still a little pink, though no longer very tender to the touch. Henry was very familiar with these lines of life on Alex’s body, because that’s what they were; proof that he’d survived. Henry had brought Alex home from the hospital, tucked him into his own bed, and tended to his wounds with a patience and skill that spilled beyond medical training and into love and devotion. As Alex finished with the last button on Henry’s shirt, Henry couldn’t help but reach forward and gently touch the raised scar on his shoulder, his finger then trailing down to the one above his heart, further down to the one on his belly. Alex watched the movement quietly before reaching up to cup Henry’s face. 

“Hey,” he said softly, getting Henry’s attention. “I’m here, okay? I’m right here.” 

Unable to respond, lest the sob that was slowly creeping its way up his throat burst forth, Henry just nodded and leaned forward to capture Alex’s lips in another kiss, this one slow and tender, a stark contrast to the frenetic meeting of tongues and teeth mere minutes before. He let Alex slip his shirt off slowly, listening to it flutter to the floor, before pulling back just so that their foreheads pressed against each other. 

“Let me love you, Alex,” Henry whispered. “Let me take care of you. Let me make love to you.” 

Alex smirked up at him, and Henry was already rolling his eyes before Alex opened his mouth. 

“Who says ‘make love’ anymore, baby?” he teased, and Henry huffed before delivering a playful nip to his bottom lip. 

“Demon,” he murmured before moving his mouth to the underside of Alex’s jaw. “Plague.” Further down, an open mouthed kiss to his pulse point. “Menace.” A sharp bite on his shoulder, just above that scar. “Love of my life.” 

Alex just gripped Henry’s hips and pulled him closer, gasping as their erections rubbed together through their pants. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” he panted. “Need you. Need my boyfriend.” 

Henry nearly growled as the accolade fell from Alex’s lips, his hands now grappling with the button and zipper of Alex’s jeans. 

“Say it again,” he muttered, his lips barely leaving Alex’s neck. 

“Boyfriend,” Alex breathed as Henry finally got the zipper down. “Lover,” he sighed as he helped shove the jeans down his thighs. “Novio,” he gasped as Henry wrapped his arms around his waist, grabbing Alex’s ass in his hands and squeezing gently. “Querido, mi amor, mi vida, mi corazón completo.”

“Fucking Christ,” Henry groaned as he pulled Alex toward the bed. 

In moments Alex was reclined against the pillows with Henry, just as naked, on his stomach between his legs. He sucked dark marks all over Alex’s thighs, his cries and gasps echoing in the room around them. Every scrape of his teeth, every purple bruise, every point of contact served as a reminder that Alex was here, and he was his, and he wasn’t going away. 

Henry let his tongue trace over Alex’s balls lightly, teasingly, before pressing his thighs back, spreading his legs wider and exposing his hole. As Henry’s tongue laved over that expanse of skin, Alex gave a high moan, one hand reaching up to tug at his curls, the other shooting down to wind through Henry’s own blond strands, not directing, just as a grounding touch. 

Henry flicked his tongue back and forth over his hole, feeling it twitch beneath the wet muscle, moaning at the sounds that Alex was giving him. His fingers gripped Alex’s thighs harshly, and he hoped they left behind marks of their own, something that Alex could look at and remember just how much Henry loved him. With a gentle thrust, his tongue entered into his ass, and Alex keened as he arched his back. 

“Fuck, baby, Henry,” he groaned. He started to lift his hand off of Henry’s head, but Henry quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding it in place. His other hand came down from his hair, searching, but Henry grabbed that wrist as well, bringing it down to hook around his thigh. “Baby,” Alex whined, even as he obeyed, “please, fuck, touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” Henry pointed out, barely pulling his mouth away to speak. Alex whimpered, and Henry grinned as he finally pulled away, releasing one of Alex’s wrists to grab the lube that was sitting on the bedside table. “I’ve got you, love,” he soothed. 

The first finger went in readily, his hole already loosened from Henry’s tongue. It was too easy to slip in a second, scissoring his digits to stretch Alex out further, letting the tips of his fingers just nudge his prostate on every other thrust. Alex was holding both of his thighs now, spreading himself open for Henry to take, panting harshly as he gently added a third. 

“So good for me, love,” Henry said softly, using his other hand to come up and brush an errant curl off of Alex’s forehead. “Look at you, so gorgeous.” His thumb brushed against his cheek. “So perfect for me, darling.” 

Henry gently extracted his fingers, rubbing Alex’s thigh soothingly when he whimpered at the loss. More lube was applied, and then Henry was lining up at his entrance. He saw Alex’s head thrown back, eyes screwed tight with pleasure and anticipation. 

“Look at me, Alé,” He called softly. 

Alex’s breath hitched as his eyes popped open, dark brown meeting deep blue. And then Henry slowly pushed inside. 

Sinking into Alex was always a religious experience to Henry, enough to make him cast aside his agnostic tendencies and worship at this altar for the rest of his natural life. He was hot, and tight, even with the prep, and Henry groaned as he inched his way in carefully. Alex’s back bowed on the bed, his hands gripping his thighs like a vice, and as soon as Henry bottomed out, he was leaning forward, planting soft kisses to his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles. 

“Breathe, mi amor,” he instructed, and Alex nodded as he took a steadying breath. He waited as Alex relaxed beneath him, desperate to move, yet unwilling to start until Alex was ready. Finally, he gave another nod, and Henry slowly withdrew until just the head sat inside, then just as slowly thrust forward, bottoming out again. 

He continued at that leisurely pace, fucking in and out of Alex as if he had all the time in the world, listening to his moans and sighs and whimpers of pleasure as Henry hit his prostate every third or fourth thrust. Either from exhaustion or a need to feel more of him, Alex let his thighs drop so that they could wrap around Henry’s waist, bringing a hand up so that his fingers could glide over Henry’s abs. Henry shivered at the touch, reaching down so that he could entwine their fingers together. 

“Hen,” Alex gasped. “More.”

Henry nodded, speeding up his thrusts slightly, one hand wrapped around Alex’s hip, the other still tangled with his. Alex was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open as Henry fucked into him, but Henry couldn’t seem to look away from the god laying prostrate before him. Sweat glistened on his neck, his face flushed, his hair wild on the pillow, his lips bitten and raw, and Henry had never felt so lucky in his life. He brought Alex’s hand up to his mouth, kissed the back of it reverently, nipped at his wrist, before releasing it. Alex started to whine at the loss of contact, but stopped as Henry spit into his palm and wrapped his hand around his neglected cock. 

Henry could see Alex trying to form words, trying to beg and plead, but wholly unable to as he sped up even more. He timed the pumping of his fist with his thrusts, suddenly desperate to see Alex come, to hear him fracture and shatter apart, to pull him back together afterwards. He could feel the tremor in his thighs, knew he was close, so he fell forward, hovering above Alex, his hand never stopping it’s movement on his profusely leaking cock. 

“Let go, darling,” Henry encouraged softly. Alex cried out, wrapping his arms around Henry’s shoulders to keep him close, and Henry nodded. “That’s it, love. Give it to me.” 

“L-l-love you,” Alex gasped, his back arching, and Henry hissed as he felt blunt nails dragging down his back. 

“Oh fuck,” he panted, giving everything he had to the man below him. “Alex, love, love you.”

“Gonna come,” Alex groaned, and Henry nodded. 

“With me,” he moaned. “Come with me.” 

Alex tightened around him, twitching and crying out as he spilled over Henry’s hand. The sting of nails in his back, the heat of his hole around his cock, the punched out moans in his ear, all blended together until Henry was shouting, pulsing deep inside Alex, his cry petering out into a breathless laugh. He stayed above Alex, his arms shaking, but unwilling to pull out and not wanting to collapse entirely on the man. Instead he rained soft kisses across his nose and cheeks, forehead and chin, finally ending at his lips, smiling around the sluggish glide of Alex’s mouth against his. 

Eventually Henry pulled out, shushing Alex softly as he promised he’d be back shortly. Clean up was quick, and in minutes Alex was curled into Henry’s side, an arm slung over his waist, his head pillowed on his chest as Henry let his fingertips glide up and down his back, smiling as goosebumps rose beneath them. 

“Tickles,” Alex muttered, and Henry gave a small chuckle before stopping the movement and ducking his head to drop a kiss. 

“Sorry, love,” Henry apologized. 

Alex just snuggled impossibly closer, sighing heavily. 

“Love you so much, Hen,” he murmured, his breathing evening out in a way that Henry knew meant he was about to fall asleep. Henry let his own eyes close, let peace wash over him. 

“I love you too, darling.”

Let love in.