The Unexpected Journey-A Prince Harry Fan Fic

Chapter 144

The world around Maddie swarmed into an organized sort of chaos. She could feel her knees weaken, hear a buzzing in her ear as everything jumped into action. Libby stepped into the room as Fynn stepped out. Without a word she began moving around and collecting items, their protection detail began to radio back and forth, planning and deciding.

"Don't fall apart on me yet, okay?" Will spoke to her in a voice that mixed the sweetness she had seen in him so often with the authoritarian she had only begun to see tonight. He needed her to stay with him just a moment longer; just enough to get through this.

But all Maddie could do was look up at Will with her heart beating in her throat and ask the question she knew, with one hundred percent certainty, she did not want an answer to. "Is he..." Her eyes clouded over and she could feel her own breakdown on the horizon.

Will shook his head roughly, his fingers still wrapped around her arms. "They don't know. They..." He cleared his throat. "They know that the Apache took on enemy fire. They know that they lost radio frequency and they know that they went down over the water. They are sending a rescue and recovery team out in the area right now but it's a war and it's the sea..." His hands flexed and the lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "They don't know. And they don't know when they'll know."

"I..." Maddie tried, fought with her own instincts, her body's own natural inclination to crumble to the floor, the way her stomach felt like it wanted to heave; the way her mind spiraled. This was it; her worst nightmare being played out in a hotel suite in Wales with Harry's older brother standing over her as she fell apart. "I don't know what to do. I..." She shook her head, at a complete loss of words and thoughts; she was all feeling.

Will nodded. He understood. His own emotions were swirling around in the pit of his stomach, threatening to take him down. But for this moment, for this brief glimpse of time, his survival instincts had taken over, his training had seized control and he knew what needed to happen before either of them broke down. "We're leaving for London." His voice was low as he spoke to Maddie. "Libby is packing up your stuff and Fynn is going to pack mine and they'll follow behind on land."

"Oh-Okay...." Maddie agreed absently. She had nothing to say, nothing to ask, nothing to add. She had nothing. And in that moment all she could do was listen to him.

"We're leaving right now," he glanced up to the head of his protection team who nodded quickly and firmly; they were ready. He turned back to Maddie and let go of his tight hold on her, his hands smoothing down over her arms. "We have to get out of here before anything leaks, before the press gets wind of..." He bit at the skin of his lip and soldiered on. "We don't know what happened yet, we don't know what the next phone call is going to bring us and we do not need to be at some hotel in Wales when this falls down. We..." He took in a long shaky breath. "We need to be in London and we need to leave right now."

Maddie nodded, too numb to disagree; too numb to do much of anything. All she could think about—ALL she could think about—was Harry; somewhere in the ocean. Harry, being shot out of the sky. Harry, in a rushed panic to save the aircraft, to save the crew, to save the mission.

Harry.

She shook her head harshly, swallowing back the lump in her throat, trying to settle the bile in her stomach. She had to stay focused. She had to stay out of the deep dark hole of 'what if'—at least for the moment. So she looked up at Will and she nodded again; looking up to Libby who held something in her hands as she approached them.

"Your wallet and your cell phone Ma'am," Libby was sweet and gentle with her.

"Thank you," she managed, wrapping her fingers around the items and slipping them into her jacket pocket; the cufflinks still wrapped up in the palm of her hand. "How do we..." She let her eyes leave Will's and glance out at their detail waiting; ready to leave.

"There's a helicopter waiting outside on the back lawn. It'll take us to the airstrip not far away and then we'll fly to London." His hand on her elbow guided her out of her suite and into the hallway. Maddie followed without thought to her clothes and her shoes and everything she was leaving behind—he had told her Libby was taking care of it. And Maddie trusted that.

They were going to go to London—she understood that. Through some sort of miracle, Maddie's mind willed her feet to move and she and Will began down the corridor; their team around them in a sober expression. Will reached forward to press the elevator button and then he turned to face her. "I know this is going to be hard and I know that it's going to take more than I should dare ask of you right now but..." He took a breath. "I'm going to need you to dry your eyes and I'm going to need you to force a smile. At least for two minutes."

"What?" She was shocked; stunned really. "Why?"

"Because..." He sighed as the elevator doors closed on their entourage. "In order to get to the helicopter...we have to walk through the lobby. Full of people from the event tonight."

Maddie's heart sank into her stomach and she suddenly felt the undeniable urge to vomit. "I..." She stuttered; her eyes fluttering up to look at the numbers as they ticked down.

"You can," Will assured her, keeping his eyes forward—knowing that if he looked at her, if he let himself slip, she would let herself slip and they'd both be a mess.

She nodded, swallowing at the lump in her throat, wishing she could keep it down. Holding up her free hand, she whispered, "I'm shaking. I...I can't make my hand stop shaking."

"Then give me your hand," Will held out his, unsure if she would take it, unsure if she felt enough trust in him in this moment. But she didn't blink, she didn't flinch. Seemingly setting all of their back and forth aside, Maddie slipped her cold trembling fingers into his hand and he moved them quickly through his arm; tucking them into the warm bend of his elbow. "Keep them there." He whispered as the elevator neared the bottom and began to slow. "I'll walk you through the lobby. Okay?"

"Okay," Maddie nodded; her eyes trained forward, her mind struggling for, and gaining, temporary control of her heart. With a deep, shuddery breath, she pulled her head high, squared her shoulders and willed her eyes dry. "Okay."

As the doors parted and slid open, a smile slid onto both of their faces and out they stepped into the crowd, into the revelry; into the open.

In the end, there would be pictures of this moment; of this ninety second walk. In the immediate future there would be twitter posts and blog musings pointing to the way they walked together, how close they were, how her hand was tucked in his arm. There would be gossipy rumors that floated about the way he spoke to her under his breath, about the way she stayed tucked in close next to him. There would be speculation.

And later, when the world heard news of what had occurred that night, there would be a great shame that would settle over those who had jumped. There would be a public outpouring about the strength and the grace and the pride with which the two of them walked. And there would be a photo that stuck out from the others, taken just before they slipped through the doors to the hotel to head outside—of Maddie looking back with distant eyes and a fake smile—one that nobody caught until they knew; until they understood and realized just how quickly assumptions could turn to accusations could turn to disappointment in themselves and acceptance of how very little they knew of what was happening behind closed doors.

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The closer they came to the helicopter, the blades whipping through the cold crisp winter air, the more undone Maddie became. Under the cover of the noise, of the dark, she began to let go of the duty that had held her together inside. She felt her breath start to gasp and she felt her eyes start to tear up; the freezing cold pricking at her from every angle. Her dress swirled around her in the wind putting this beautiful flow of motion around this jagged, harsh night. Will held onto her hand, keeping it there on his arm until they reached the helicopter where he held onto her hand as she climbed the few steps onto the aircraft and then he followed her in.

Maddie found her seat, sitting quickly and reaching for the belts and the harnesses as everyone moved quickly to get ready for takeoff. But she couldn't do it. Her fingers were too cold, too shaky to pull the buckles together. Her frustration mounted quickly; her eyes welling up and her teeth biting at her bottom lip.

"Here..." Will was calm and gentle as his hands moved hers aside; working with the ease and quickness of an expert as he buckled her in place next to him. "There you go..." He tugged a quick check at her belt and then Maddie watched as the strong man who had just led her through the hotel, through all of the people, through the beginning of this unyielding uncertainty that would plague their night—she watched as he wavered.

Sitting next to her his shoulders slumped. He quickly strapped himself in and his eyes grew dark and sad and far off. And as the helicopter lifted off the ground, she watched as the sorrow she was feeling washed over his face. They were up in the air and moving when it began to surround them; surround everyone on board—protection detail, flight crew. Everyone on board had sad eyes and a heavy heart.

And Maddie began to cry. It wasn't the deep, heavy sobs of a breakdown. It wasn't the kind that overwhelmed your lungs and your throat and your body. It was the soft, slow, steady kind. The marathon, not the sprint. It was as though the emotions inside of her had just been held back as much as they could and they simply could not be held any longer. So they began to trickle.

Turning her eyes from Will, she looked out the window, trying to focus on the lights in the distance, trying to turn her attention to something solid and concrete. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. It was too much.

Because when she looked out into the deep darkness of night with just a smattering of light, all she could see was the ocean.

The deep, dark, black waves of the ocean.

And Harry.

Struggling with a sob, she pulled back from the window, she turned inward and her eyes met Will's and she cracked. "What if..."

"He's..." Will cut her off; his voice quick but unstable, his hand moving over hers—stalling her. He took in a breath and let it fall from his lungs before he continued. "He is an unbelievably well trained solider. He's been through the strictest of schools, the harshest of trainings..." He spoke as though he were trying to convince her; trying to remind himself. "They've gone over and over emergency procedures; they've drilled them into their brains, their muscles. It's not even a conscious thought anymore. He...he's incredibly smart," his eyes welled up with water and the lump in Maddie's throat grew at the sorrow and fear that rested there. He was so incredibly worried about his little brother. "He plays it off and brushes it away but he is...he's very smart and quick and he has amazing instincts and if anyone has a chance at...at surviving, it's Harry." Will choked up and cleared his throat. "It's him."

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By the time they landed at the small airstrip, the wind had picked up and the night had grown painfully cold. As they stepped from the helicopter, they were escorted quickly to a hanger where a private plane waited for them. They needed just a few more minutes before they could take off and in those few minutes, the world around Maddie began to close in again.

Though Will had followed the pilot inside the hanger, seeking warmth and shelter from the foggy night, Maddie had stayed outside. She needed the fresh air piercing her lungs. She needed the cold wind hitting her face. She feared that without it, her thoughts would take her over and she just might crumble. And though they were no longer in public, no longer under the scrutiny of the cameras and the crowds, she knew that it wasn't time to crumble. Not yet.

So she walked the few feet from the hanger to bench that was stationed there; maybe for workers wishing to take a break, maybe for onlookers who came to watch air traffic. She didn't know, nor did she care as she sat down on the ice cold metal of the bench. Her arms wrapped around her middle; hugging herself in efforts to keep warm in the soft fabric of her dress, the thin fabric of her jacket and she looked out across the night sky.

She could see the runway extend far down the lane. She could see the cloud cover breaking open in small patches, allowing the smallest smattering of stars to peek through. She could see the trees and the plants and the grass in the distance bending sharply in the wind. She blinked at the harshness of the breeze, sniffed away the tears that threatened.

It was the hardest night of her life. This night. On this bench. The unknown had always been the worst. Even when her father was sick, it had always been worse when they were waiting for news. Once the bad news came, they could mourn, they could plan, they could grieve. But the waiting, the unknown, it had always managed to twist her stomach into knots, pinching her forehead in a way that brought on headaches.

She had never been incredibly religious. Nor had she ever really given too much thought to an afterlife in which the deceased kept watch over the living; where they could hear the thoughts and words of their loved ones. She had never denied it but she had never given it much credence. But there on that bench that night, her wide, cold, watery eyes turned up to the heavens and she called upon her father. She called upon his mother.