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When Alex opens his eyes, the first thing that catches his attention is the incessant beeping, right by his ear, clouding his thoughts; and the second thing is Henry sleeping on a chair with his head resting on his shoulder, his neck crooked in a way that Alex knows will have him rubbing the stiff muscle for days.
He tries to reach out, hold Henry’s head up, or at least give him a pillow or something, but a burning sensation on his left arm stops him in his tracks. His eyes lazily track where the shooting pain came from in a strupy slowness that is unusual for him, and even when his mind starts racing with the realization that there are tubes coming out of his left arm, his body cannot respond in a pace that matches the turmoil going on inside his head.
“What?” He mutters, his mouth feeling drier than the Sahara desert, mind feeling like cotton candy. He reaches with his right hand to hold out the tubes as panic starts to creep in. Realization hits him like a truck when his fingers touch the cool tube tied to his arm. He’s in the hospital. With confusion and fear filling his entire existence, tears start to prickle on the corners of his eyes, a stray one escaping and rolling down his cheek. Weakly he lets out a “why?”
In a way that normally would have Alex crack a joke about The Manchurian Candidate, Henry jumps out of his seat at the sound of his voice. One of his hands instinctively clutches the railing of the hospital bed, while the other hovers over Alex’s face for a few seconds before curling into a fist. “Oh love, how are you feeling? Do you want anything? Do you need anything? Should I call for the nurse? I should call for the nurse. They did tell me to press the button when you woke up.”
And suddenly everything feels so disorienting. Not waking up in a hospital, not not knowing what has happened to him; but seeing Henry, his calm and collected Henry who has always been a rock to Alex, feel so nervous, so out of his element, so desperate. It hurts more than anything in his body. “I’m sorry.” He says, for lack of better things to say and swallows the lump on his throat.
Strong arms hold him, supporting him up, and a plastic cup is already on his lips before Alex can understand what’s happening. “Drink, love.” Henry whispers, his voice soft and broken, yet still leaving no room for arguments. Once the cup is placed on the plastic table, Henry reaches out and pushes Alex’s matted curls away from his face in a tenderness that makes Alex tear up again. “Now tell me why you’re sorry.”
“I don’t know.” Alex confesses. “I’m still so confused, H. And my mind feels like I’m trying to think through a cloud of fog. Not the usual one I’m used to. It’s scary.” He whispers the last sentence, knowing Henry will hear it anyway. Henry will hear him even if Alex doesn’t say it outloud.
“It’s alright, darling.” Henry soothes him, slowly letting Alex lay back on the bed and caressing his arm that is not connected to the IV. “I’m here and I’ll tell you everything”
Then Henry starts to explain everything in a soothing voice, making Alex feel like he’s a kid once again, listening to a story before bed. Somewhere between ’you said your stomach was hurting’ and ’you fainted’ Alex feels sleep pull him deeper and deeper, having the saddest dream where Henry silently cries, begging Alex to get better. And in his dream Alex tries to promise he will. He tries to tell Henry that just like Arthur, he will walk out of this hospital healthier than he came in, simply because he can’t think of another possibility, of leaving Henry even before he has a chance to say ‘I love you’. But dream Henry just looks at him with incredulous eyes, tears still running down his cheeks.
When Alex wakes up a few hours later, he finds the room he’s in just as he left it, even Henry back on his chair, sleeping. The rustling of the sheets is enough to wake him up, though, his worry filled blue eyes immediately back on Alex.
“How are you feeling now?” Henry feels calmer than he did, which also soothes Alex.
Instinctively trying to stretch after waking up, he groans in pain, his hands flying to the place where it hurts the most, somewhere on his abdomen. “Ouch.”
“Shhh. It’s okay.” In the blink of an eye, Henry is by his side, his hair soothingly running through Alex’s curls. For a second, Alex lets himself get lost in the deep blue of Henry’s eyes, he lets the tiny flecks of lighter colors pick him up and cradle him…
Until the nurse rushes in with a huge cheery smile on her face. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz, it’s wonderful to see you so awake. How are you feeling?”
Pulling himself out of his reverie, Alex shakes his head, clearing his head of the intoxicating images of Henry starting to fill his head.
“He just absentmindedly stretched.” Henry answers instead of him. “Do you think he might have popped some stitches?”
The nurse's smile falters for a second before a phony one settles in its place. “Mr. Fox,” she slowly walks towards Alex, carefully opening his bandaging up and examining his scars. “You’re still here, and still anxious.”
Anger stemming from her exasperation bubbles inside of Alex, an urge to fight filling him. “His father is a cancer survivor.” He spits out. “So hospitals make him feel uneasy. And he’s back here because of me. So I think it’s only understandable how he’s acting.”
“Alex, it’s fine.” Henry tries to intervene. “I have been a little over the top.”
Looking apologetic, the nurse covers Alex’s scars and silently leaves. Just as she’s about to walk out the door, she turns towards Alex. “Your doctor should be here in an hour or so to talk you through your appendectomy, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”
“Appendectomy?” He asks, his brown eyes wide open.
Henry’s face softens, laced with pain. “Yes, love. Your appendix has burst. We barely got you to the hospital on time. They had to operate on you, urgently.” A few tears roll down his cheeks, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he squeezes Alex’s hand. “You must have been in excruciating pain, love. How did you not realize something was wrong.”
And the thing is. The. Thing. Is. Alex knew something was wrong. He knew it the day before he was supposed to go back to New York for their senior year, but because he’s dumb and oblivious, he didn’t recognize it for what it is. So he let himself stew in pain for days, even traveling from Texas to New York in his state.
After FaceTiming, and Snapchatting all summer, both in different continents for two months, Alex was so excited to finally see his best friend and roommate again, he didn't realize the source of his excitement. He was so blind to his own feelings. But that night as he started imagining how incredible it is going to be having Henry at such close proximity again, he didn’t even realize in his head Henry started looking up at him. He was imagining what his lips would taste like when he came to his senses with an instant shock. Fuck, he was in love with his best friend. And that’s when the stomach cramps started.
Now looking back, Alex thinks he should have been able to differentiate between the butterflies in his stomach and an organ bursting, but he has never been the best at reading himself. When he feels Henry’s patient eyes on him, that’s when it hits him; he hasn’t said anything in a hot minute.
And Alex thinks of everything, how he could have died, simply because he was too oblivious. How he could have died without saying he was in love with Henry. Then his sweet, kind, wonderful, generous Henry would never know how much he’s loved. “I thought it was because I’m in love with you.” He silently confesses, closing his eyes
“Come again?” Henry pleads, touching Alex’s face. And when Alex opens his eyes, he sees Henry’s face contorting in confusion.
“I thought,” Alex echoes his previous sentiment, feeling braver with the hope he sees in Henry’s eyes. “The pain in my abdomen was butterflies in my stomach. Because I’m in love with you.”
“You daft, daft boy. Couldn’t you have realized this before ending up in the hospital so I could kiss you right now while telling you how much I love you?” A bubbly laughter fills the room, such an angelic voice, for a second Alex comtemplates if he had died and gone to heaven.
But then he repeats his words, just to hear it. Being even more silly. “Well, H, I guess you have to settle for being gentle with your boyfriend for a few weeks.”
Henry’s eyes shine with unshed tears, a kind of happiness Alex had never seen evident on his face. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make due.” And places the gentlest kiss on his lips.
Well, while laying on the hospital bed, Henry’s cautious arms wrapped around him; losing an organ, but gaining a boyfriend doesn’t seem like the worst trade to Alex.