Twisted Reality (Henry Stickmin AU)

Keep Myself Alive

"That was some good work out there, Henry!" Charles praised, patting the ex-thief's back with a little too much force. 

Henry winced, turning his head to glare at the other while trying to suppress a smile. He took a step away from Charles and lifted his hands up, beginning to sign something. Charles tilted his head slightly, watching the movements intently.

'It would've been better if you hadn't attempted to crash the helicopter.' He signed, shaking his head for emphasis. 'You could've killed us.'

Charles huffed, folding his arms and thinking of a suitable response.

"Well, yeah." He eventually spoke after a moment of stubborn silence. "But we didn't die!"

'Because I didn't let you crash the helicopter.' Henry face-palmed.

Charles simply chuckled, smiling cheerfully. He loved going on missions with his best buddy- it made them so much more interesting. Henry and Charles had been partnered up for a few months, going on missions together which almost always ended in success. It took some time getting used to working together; Henry rarely spoke and instead would communicate with sign language or by writing on paper. Charles didn't push him to talk and instead decided to teach himself sign language so he could understand what Henry was saying. He made some mistakes from time to time however he'd learned relatively quickly. Henry had felt a burst of gratitude and warmth when Charles had started learning sign language- it was the nicest gesture anyone had ever done for him.

Charles really enjoyed their time together and as far as he was concerned, Henry seemed to be having fun too.

So why did he run away?

---

The blaring sound of an alarm made Charles stir and groggily sit up in bed. He rubbed his tired, aching eyes and glared at his clock with the utmost hatred. 

5 am. Too damn early.

Groaning loudly, the pilot slammed his fist down on top of the clock, silencing it and possibly causing some damage. Not that he cared. He found he didn't care about much nowadays- only finding Henry. There must be a valid reason why he'd ran away- there had to be. Maybe he'd been captured and taken away forcefully or maybe he was just visiting some relatives and forgot to mention it.

Though eight months is a long time to be visiting relatives.

Charles sighed and heaved himself up off the bed, wandering over towards the en-suite bathroom. He plucked his toothbrush from out of it's holder and sluggishly squirted some toothpaste onto the bristles, beginning to brush his teeth in a lethargic manner. He stared into the mirror before him with dull, blue eyes. Eyes that used to glitter like water beneath the soft glow of the sun, eyes that were warm and made you feel safe, eyes so full of hope that they burned brighter than any fire. But now that fire had been extinguished, those blue eyes no longer held warmth and no longer sparkled. It was like they'd frozen over.

Charles lowered his toothbrush and filled a small glass with some water, taking a sip and swirling it around in his mouth before spitting into the sink. He then turned the faucet on and swilled away the remaining toothpaste, shoving the now rinsed toothbrush back into it's place.

He soon finished up in the bathroom, quickly and carelessly washing his face before exiting the en-suite and throwing on a black turtle-neck sweater with some dark green cargo pants. He kicked his slippers off and tugged on his red combat boots, idly tying the laces.

He'd find Henry. He wouldn't just leave without a reason, would he? Something must have happened.

Charles nodded to himself, standing back up and padding over to his military coat. He stared at it, recalling his past missions with Henry and felt the familiar burning sensation of tears in his eyes. Hastily, he wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his jumper and grabbed the coat, slipping into it and zipping it up all the way.  He leaned into the fur of the hood and closed his eyes- a small, comforting notion that seemed silly but helped ease him. A few minutes of silence passed until he reopened his eyes and spared a glimpse at his alarm clock. Half five. Deciding he'd loitered around enough, Charles stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.