Inescapable History, Inescapable Fates

He knows that he knows that he knows

Luna was in town, but Alex didn't want to meet him. Henry knew. He had to know. The gun said his name in Anglo-Saxon runes. Alex felt so stupid. How did he know hundreds of international treaties by heart but didn't know Anglo-Saxon runes existed? Of course, Arthur Fox had Anglo-Saxon runes on his gun.

Henry knew. So what did that mean? Luna could help, but he would tell Zahra and Zahra would- no, nope, not an option.

Henry knew Alex knew he knew Alex had his father's gun. OK, he didn't know... he was pretty sure Alex knew he knew Alex had his father's gun based on Alex's panic spiral that started the next day and resulted in multiple whiskey-fueled benders, most of which ended up with Alex throwing up all night and waking up the next day with no memory of Henry helping him from the toilet to his bed. Henry walked in on him getting a drunk blow job once, Alex didn't remember that either.

None of it affected Alex's grades. He studied as much as he drank, running on Redbull instead of sleep. He wouldn't look at Henry, and Henry wanted to tell him it was fine that he knew Alex had his father's gun, but maybe it wasn't. Thursday night, Alex was sipping from a flask and texting, pregaming, and Henry sighed at him. Alex did not notice, so Henry sighed louder. Alex glanced over at his stricken face.

"Please don't," Henry said,

"What do you mean?"

"Just don't. Don't go out, don't get drunk, don't come back sick, don't wake up miserable... I can't do this anymore."

"Then don't, this has nothing to do with you." Alex sounded defensive and Henry stood, crossing his arms.

"I can't watch you do this anymore."

"Why? Deal with it." Alex sounded petulant and Henry wanted to scream.

"Because you're torturing yourself Alex, and over what-" This was dangerous territory because Henry knew what and Alex knew what and Henry knew Alex knew what and Alex knew Henry knew what. But here they were. Because Henry could not do another night of this.

"You just don't understand." Alex spat.

Henry sat down, suddenly calm. "Everyone in the world, or at least everyone you care about, is counting on you to look like you're succeeding. They expect it, they take it for granted that you'll get the grade and the girl and the internship." Henry spat the word girl, talking about himself now, not Alex. But he forged on, "And you feel like the world is falling apart around you and everything is too much and you're overwhelmed and you're drowning. But you make the grade anyway because you always do... and so the expectations don't change, even though you're not treading water anymore, you are actively drowning and any moment now you'll run out of air and how fucked is it that we are more afraid of people realizing we've run out of air than running out of air." Alex stared at him in surprise. Henry realized it might be the first time he swore in front of Alex. Alex had a filthy mouth, but Henry couldn't quite escape his British sensibilities.

Then, Alex collapsed back into his bed, "Yeah, that's basically what it feels like."

"You just don't understand," Henry mimicked Alex's angsty cowboy drawl, teasing, and Alex flung a pillow at him.

Henry picked up the pillow, walked over to Alex, and whomped him with it, playfully. Suddenly, Alex grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. For a moment, Henry thought they were going to- But then Alex was on top of him, pinning his hands.

"I win," Alex breathed triumphantly. And Henry couldn't have that, so he took advantage of Alex's sense of victory to break his hand hold and start wrestling for real. Alex was on top, which gave him an advantage but Henry was a bit larger. They scrabbled for a few moments, Alex was much better at this then Henry thought he would be. Finally, Henry trapped Alex's chest under his knee. He could hear their breaths, panting. It was silent and tense, and Alex was looking up at him with a dangerous glint in his eye. But he was straight, so Henry climbed off of him, brushing off his pants like that could clear his head of Alex. Alex, like always, mistook his withdrawn embarrassment with sanctimoniousness. "C'mon it was fun." Henry cast him a cold look without meaning to. Because all he could think was this is bad, this is bad, this is bad, I need to leave. "I have your dad's gun." Alex said, and that pulled Henry completely out of his head.

"What?!" He said, "I mean I know, but why lie and tell me now... especially when I clearly knew."

"Technically, I didn't lie. I left out information. And I didn't know you knew. Also, I didn't know until you knew!"

"What do you mean you didn't know until I knew?"

"I got the gun from my mom, I didn't realize there were fucking Anglo-Saxon runes on it. I forget white people have culture sometimes."

"Then- Why did your mom have my gun?"

"Fantastic question Henry, let me call her up and ask her... oh wait she's dead." He shouted. And then they stood in silence. Henry didn't want to say the words he had heard too many times, but they slipped out anyways in a small whisper.

"I'm sorry."

Alex fixed him with a glare. "They probably worked together in Belize," He said finally, and turned away from Henry. Henry was about one hundred percent sure Alex was not supposed to say that last part. He decided to go to the library and give Alex some space, hopefully, he would stay safe in their room.