9.2

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Alex awoke in Hell.
He was burning everywhere. His arms, his legs, and oh God did his head burn. Around him were not flames however. Only complete and utter blankness. It was a white room that he did not recognize and the only splash of color was once again not fire, but water. A huge pool of water which was overflowing right before him. The water was brighter than the happiest blue bird, so why did it seem so sad? A big, blue, clear sea, which was crying. Crying for him, Alex realized. Just like the rolling waves, the big blue orbs seemed to be calling him. Why were the waves talking? And why were they british?
"Alex? Love? Can you hear me?" The waves beckoned, leaving little droplets of silver in collecting puddles to gather on Alex's face.
Alex could do nothing but stare back, blinking sporadically while attempting to piece everything together. The sea grew cloudier than before as they spilled over the barriers once more.
"Darling, please say something. Please."
If he were in Hell, how come the deep blue is a beautiful man rather than Satan?
A man. Not waves, but a man.
But why did he look so familiar...
"Where...but why...? How'd I even...but who...? Well shit," Alex babbled, making absolutely no sense.
"Shhh shhh it's ok", the man coaxed. "I'm here. You can relax now, you're safe. You're in the hospital, love. You were in an accident." Suddenly his expression shifted and he began to stutter. "You... y- you c- crashed and..." he trailed off now, unable to continue as sobs built up in his chest. He then grabbed Alex's arm and curled into his side. Alex - well - Alex was confused beyond the point of terror. For some reason however, he felt the need to comfort the sad blond man who seemed to feel grief for him. He decided it was fitting to pat the sandy mess of hair on top of his head.
"Uh...there there sir. I'm ok-" He looked down at his legs which were wrapped in bandages. Alex looked like he'd been fucking mummified. "Well, no. I'm actually not sure of that last part. But I'm alive, so there's that." The familiar man looked up like his heart had just been torn out of his muscular chest and stomped all over. Whether there was more of a questioning glint in his eyes or a painful twinkle Alex did not know.
"...Sir? Alex, is this your idea of a joke? Ha ha. It's all very comical. Now, please. Be serious for a moment, love. It's me. Henry. Your husband."
His what now?
"I don't really like fully understand what you're saying right now, strange pretty blond man in my hospital bed. How would I have crashed? I'm not even sure I know how to drive? Do I know how to drive?? Maybe that's why I crashed...Is that why, 'Henry'? If that even is your real name... But why would you lie about that? I don't know. There's a lot of shit going on in my brain right now. I don't understand any of it though. Do you by any chance have some paper and a pen? I think I've got to write some of this down to sort it out. If you could just hand...me...some pen...and a paper so I can thought out my list of Henrys for car..." Henry stared back with a tortured expression plain on his face as Alex drifted into a sleep that caused the room to fill with his loud snores.
"Excuse me, nurse?" Henry called in an anguished tone. "Nurse!" he called louder this time. A tall woman walked through the door wearing a white hospital uniform, a quizzical look caused a quirk in her eyebrows.
"Yes sir?"
"My husband. I think he's got a concussion. He was blammering on and wasn't making any sense. He also doesn't remember me. Then he passed out in the middle of talking. You've got to do something."
The woman clearly noticed the distress that Henry was in, not that it wasn't dreadfully obvious. "Sir, we are aware of his circumstances. We've given him some medication, so he may be out for a while. He's fine however, don't worry. He might have slight memory loss but it should start coming back to him soon enough. I do need you to leave the room though, we will tell you when you can come back in."
And Henry skulked out of the room, too exhausted to even put up a fight.
———
It had been the middle of the night when the same nurse came to get Henry. He hadn't been asleep. No, because how could he sleep when Alex didn't remember him? Alex probably didn't even remember his own name to be fair, but that was besides the point. The woman was leading Henry to Alex's room, and by the time they were just down the hall, he realized he wasn't even sure why she was bringing him. It wasn't like Alex actually knew who he was.
"Er um why exactly have you brought me to see him now?" he asked. He was only slightly anxious. He in no way, shape, or form feared that he would walk into a Alex hissy fit which would end in tears, but not from Alex. Not one bit.
His question didn't need to be answered. They had continued walking, and were now just outside of his door. From inside there was a soft murmuring which could only be coming from Alex himself. And his voice was growing loud enough to be heard as not a murmur, but a soft cry.
"Hen...Henry?...Baby, please. Come back...", came Alex's sniffles. He was crying. And he remembered.
"He wouldn't quiet down. He woke up all flustered and even threatened one of the other nurses that he would 'get his royal husband to royally kick his ass' if he didn't see you," explained the nurse, which Henry could now see that her name tag read Dorothy. Without hesitation now, only dead determination, Henry placed his hand on the door knob. With a last deep breath and the click of the opening door, Henry saw Alex in a way that was not common for Alex: weeping.
Alex, still in a deep conversation with the wall, was weeping. Tears were pouring down his rosy cheeks as he demanded that the cement wall bring him his husband.
"He's about 6'2, yes I know, he's tall and I'm short, get over it. He has the prettiest sandy blond hair. It's super soft. And it smells like vanilla. He has a very hot voice too. Because he's british. Aaaand, he's a prince. Yup. My husband - prince charming. Crazy. And he's british. He's adorable when he wakes up in the morning with puffy eyes and messy hair. I love his hair. It's so soft. But I swear to God himself - hold up, or the devil. Whichever can get shit done the fastest - that if I don't get to see my fucking husband right fucking now, that I will go all Texas on your sorry ass. Are you hearing me? I. Said. Now-" Alex stopped himself. Henry had begun to cry as well, and while he was leaning against the cement wall's more fortunate adjacent, he had let out an involuntary whimper. And Alex had heard.
At first it looked as if Alex might be angry. His eyes had lost their sad down-turn, and now appeared to be trapped in thought, while his face had been drained of its previous flush. He was quite the opposite of angry in fact. He was so caught in the moment that he had actually attempted to leap out of bed which was problematic seeing as he had a concussion. And that he had managed to trip on the line that connected him to the IV. He stumbled forward and gasped, but Henry caught him just before his face would have met the tile floor.
"Woah there, no need to get all jumpy. Your prince charming has arrived," remarked Henry, grinning through the steady stream running down his cheeks.
They had an actual fairy tale moment as Alex remained in Henry's embrace and they just gazed into each other's eyes. Alex was never one for fairy tales.
"Oh my fucking Christ. Hen, baby, I'm so sorry," he began. "I was on my way to the restaurant and then I was laughing because June was being a dumbass. And Pez. Pez had forgotten to tell her the reservation name was his and not mine or yours and June was gonna murder me. But then it was ok. But then my phone fell and then I picked it up and then that fucking traffic light. And that car just appeared? I- I don't-" But Henry had heard enough. He sighed as he cut Alex off with a mind cleansing kiss. Their lips locked in such a way that if he had actually gone to Hell, it would be ok. His Henry. Henry who belonged to him. Henry who smelt of cinnamon and freshly washed linens. Whose lips were smooth to the extent that some could only imagine the most divine celestial being could accomplish.
Reluctantly, Henry pulled away after a long while. "It's all right. Truly. I am much more happy that you're ok than any other type of birthday present that you bought could have made me," he said as he hoisted Alex back onto the hospital bed.
"More happy than a special edition Alex-annotated copy of Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre would have made you?" asked Alex, a pout playing on his face.
"You did what?" was Henry's reply, clearly caught off guard. "You know, there's always time for that later. But for now, your safety is top priority. Jane Austen will have to be temporarily postponed," he said with a chuckle. He was quite literally oogling at his husband.
---
One week later Alex was discharged from the hospital with one sprained wrist, a now mild concussion, and a severely bruised leg. He looked awful, but he didn't mind.
When they got home, Alex flopped onto the couch with the help of Henry. He spurted out, "Behind Pez's green coat and next to Nora's hat in the closet."
"My apologies, but I'm sure I have no clue what that code means. Am I unlocking the door to Narnia? Meeting my long awaited demise by an angry green feather coat? Please, continue. I think I require specifications."
"Oh just go look wiseass," replied Alex with an eyeroll.
"Yes, yes, very well. If you insist," said Henry as he walked towards the closet.
He had been silent for nearly five minutes, and the closet was not a far venture. It was just then that Henry had reappeared from behind Alex and gave him the sloppiest most heartfelt kiss. With one hand he gripped the raven tangle of curls attop Alex's head, and in the other he held the Jane Austens.

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