Orion || RWRB fanfic || Henry's POV

Extra Scene: *Blood & Tears*

Another Extra Scene- this one is when the emails are leaked, and Alex flies to England to see Henry. Idk how good this chapter is, because I was pretty tired when I wrote it, but I hope you enjoy it :)

This was by request of booknfood

Also, I guess I'm taking requests now! So if there's a scene you want me to write from Henry's POV, comment it below and I'll do my best to write it!

TWs: some pretty dark mental health stuff, panic attacks, blood.

***

Pez is with him when it happens.

The first time Henry wakes up, his eyes are jolted open at an unspeakable time of morning by the insistent buzzing of a drunk Alex's late-night, whiskey-induced ravings. He doesn't mind, though. Henry never minds, when it comes to Alex. He swears the First Son could call him at the arse-crack of dawn, from the other side of the world, and Henry would move heaven, Earth and anything else in between to reach his side. And if he were too late- if something, anything at all, happened to Alex...

Henry doesn't even want to think about what he'd do, then.

So, because it's ridiculously early in the morning to be drinking- like Alex apparently is- Henry tears open another packet of Jaffa Cakes, and his fingers fumble through the darkness, fitting against the keys of his laptop as he starts to type. For an infinite stretch of time, the sound of the keyboard clacking away echoes comfortingly in the otherwise silent room; as Henry drafts, deletes, and rewrites a thousand different thoughts. They come flooding out of him; bleeding out from his aching fingertips and his straining eyes and spinning mind.

In Henry's brain, he pictures them both: Alex, his sun. His light, his joy, his love. And if Alex is that star, then Henry is his planet. Orbiting him endlessly; drawn in by his gravitational pull; helpless to escape.

And that's the thing.

Usually, Henry hates things he can't control.

But with Alex... he just lets himself be lost. Swept away in a tide of emotions and kisses and confessions and secrets and-

And then he wakes up. For the second time.

Neck cramped from where it's been resting at his desk; laptop screen dark before him; eyes bleary and bloodshot.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

"Agh!" Henry jumps up at the voice; knocking into the edge of his desk and cursing loudly- then stumbling over towards the direction of the sound; fists waving wildly.

"Hey- if you wanna fight me, let me change outfits first. I'll have you know this suit costs more than your yearly Jaffa Cake bill!"

"Pez?" Disorientated, Henry freezes beside the bed; rubbing sleep from his eyes and peering up through his fingers as his friend.

"Who else in the world is this gorgeous?"

"Ugh," Henry groans in reply; flopping backwards onto the bed covers. From the warm embrace of the duvet, he mutters; voice muffled by layers of fabric: "What do you want?"

The bed creaks; a dip opening up in the mattress as Pez faceplants onto it beside Henry. From the corner of his eye, he watches sceptically as Pez starts doing snow angels on the linen.

Silence.

Eventually, Pez pauses his strangely hypnotic movements, and says:

"Star Wars?" Henry flips over; eyes flicking shut against the sudden, too-bright light. Yawning widely, he considers his options: 1) make small talk with Pez until he gives up and leaves Henry alone to sleep more, or 2) watch Star Wars in silence. Like they always do when he gets like this: when insomnia strikes, when the world has Henry's insides in turmoil.