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The score was tied, 8-8, with only a minute left. The crowd roared, a cacophony of cheers and anxious shouts, as Alex, a blur of motion in his navy jersey, streaked down the field. The whistle blew, sharp and piercing, just as Alex, sprinting for the ball, was abruptly struck across the back of the head by an opponent’s stick, and came crashing down with all the grace of a freshly felled tree.
The charity lacrosse match, usually a jovial affair, suddenly held a terrifying edge. Henry, watching from the sidelines, felt his heart leap into his throat. He watched, distraught as Alex lay still for a beat, then two, before pushing himself up, albeit a little shakily.
Henry let out a held breath of pure relief, before realizing that Alex had begun to jog quite unsteadily towards the wrong goal.
"Alex! Wrong way, darling!" Henry yelled, his voice strained and drown out by the referee blowing his whistle.
Alex was quickly ushered off the field, as Henry shoved through the large crowd, needing to get to his side more than anything. He arrived breathlessly, reaching out to gather Alex against his chest just as a medic rattled off a series of questions at him. Alex, though clearly still exceptionally dazed, attempted to stumble his way through them, his answers coming out more than a bit muddled.
Sensing the urgency of the situation, Henry wasted no time taking charge. "We’re going to the hospital," He informed, politely, but firmly waving off the well-meaning but ill-equipped medics. "He needs to be checked out properly."
"I’m fine, Hen," Alex mumbled, even as the world spun slightly around him, making it more challenging than he would like to simply put one foot in front of the other, as he found himself leaning heavily on Henry as he guided him the short distance to the car.
Leaning over him to buckle him into the passenger seat, Henry rested their foreheads together for a moment, his warm, sweet breath tickling Alex’s nose.
"I know you think you are, love, but you're clearly not," Henry replied, his voice soft but firm. "We will be going to the hospital, so please spare me the argument, darling.”
Alex huffed quietly, ready with a fairly sound retort, despite the intense throbbing in his head. He was just opening his mouth to speak when Henry’s intoxicating blue eyes met his own, and he finished in a whisper, almost too heartfelt for Alex to bear.
“I know you think it’s unnecessary, Alex, but I need to know you're okay."
And utterly overcome by an unexpected tsunami of adoration, Alex did the only thing he could, nodding gingerly and murmuring, “Alright” before succumbing to the echo of his heartbeat that insisted on playing in the back of his skull, causing him to press his cheek against his fiance’s shoulder seeking comfort and connection as they continued through the moderate mid-day traffic toward the hospital.
*******
After enduring a four hour wait to be seen in the emergency room, followed by a brief examination, the attending recommended an MRI to check for a concussion.
Though he knew it was a good thing they were taking his injury seriously, Henry’s anxiety ratcheted up another notch. This was Alex’s first major health incident since they had gotten together, nearly two years before, and while Alex seemed uncharacteristically mellow, Henry was a bundle of nerves.
"It’s fine, baby," Alex reassured, instantly noticing Henry’s anguished expression and twining their fingers to calm his nervous tic of fiddling with his signet ring. "It’s just an MRI. How bad can it be?"
Henry didn’t want to worry him, and just squeezed his hand. He knew once it was over everything would be okay, but after watching his father go through several MRIs in the midst of his cancer battle, he knew all too well what Alex would have to endure.
He didn’t have long to dwell in the darkness of his swirling anxiety however, as within the next half hour, Alex was prepped for the test, removing any and all metal from his person, and giving Henry a quick peck on the lips before being led into the special room.
The room was overwhelmingly bright and the air was heavy with the pungent aroma of antiseptic. It was all a bit unsettling if he was being completely honest, but before he could take in much more about this new environment, he was being instructed to lie on a narrow table.
"Alright, Mr. Claremont-Diaz," the technician said, "Press your shoulders against these rest nice and firm and then put in these earplugs.” Alex did as instructed, feeling strange but not necessarily uncomfortable in this unfamiliar place.
“We’re going to give you some more hearing protection.” The tech informed, pressing heavy put relatively soft cushions on both sides of Alex’s head, before attaching a tight cage around his head, locking it over his face with a bar that bisected his vision, leaving him disoriented but determined to stay calm.
“This coil will stay over your head the whole time.” The tech continued, her voice kind but matter-of-fact, “ and it’s immensely important that you stay very, very still for the entire test."
"Sounds good," Alex replied tightly, a small catch in his throat, despite his best efforts to sound nonchalant.
She went on to explain that she couldn’t hear him through the thick walls of the room, but he would be able to hear her over a speaker inside the machine.
“Okay. Sure. No worries.” Alex agreed amicably, working hard to lull himself into a sense of calm he didn’t quite feel.
"It’s just like a baby in a swaddle," Alex thought, trying to lighten the mood in his head “This isn’t so bad.” He told himself as the technician pressed a few buttons and the machine drew him in until the long white expanse was all he could see.
Once he was locked into the tube, he was surprised by how snug it was, the walls pressing firmly against his arms, and the ceiling not 4 inches from the cage secured tightly around his head.
“Deep breaths Alex. You’re okay. Henry’s right out there. Everything will be alright. Just breathe through it.” Alex chanted to himself in his head on repeat and was surprised at how much relief it brought him.
It was far too silent for what could have been twenty minutes, or maybe less than one, before the technician was pressing a small ball into his hand and hurriedly explaining it was his “panic button” if he needed a break or was not feeling well during the test.
Although he was grateful for the fail-safe, he had already decided that he would not use it, he was Alex Claremont-Diaz and he could do this.
Despite his slightly embellished stoicism and unwavering stubborn resolve, he could admit to himself that he now completely understood why they had asked him so many times if he was claustrophobic.
The technician had slipped out of the room and into the observation room where she would control the MRI machine and the eerie silence was back, seemingly pressing him even tighter into the endless void of the tube, and Alex had the fleeting sense he may now well know what being in a coffin felt like.
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m going to be cremated.” He snarked quietly to himself, just to fill the space.
"Alright, we’re starting," the technician’s voice crackled through the intercom interrupting his thoughts.
And without further warning the noises of the machine began. A rhythmic, pounding thrum that vibrated through the entire table, followed by high-pitched whines, then deep, guttural clanks.
THUMP-THUMP-WHIRRRRR-CLANG!
It was incredibly loud, an assault on all his senses and he tried closing his eyes and opening them, trying to see what felt more comfortable but coming up empty.
He supposed the hearing protection muffed some of the thunderous and unrelenting noises but he couldn’t deny that the near-deafening noises were making his steady headache ratchet up in both intensity and surface area.
Alex began to struggle to stay calm in the face of his intensifying discomfort, a tight knot forming in his stomach. But before it could overtake him, he found himself self-soothing by closing his eyes lightly, allowing his mind to drift to his happiest moments with Henry.
He remembered their first kiss, under the glowing fairy lights of the White House Christmas party, a stolen moment that felt both illicit and inevitable. Henry’s lips had been soft, hesitant at first, then firm and utterly confident, tasting of champagne and a future Alex hadn't dared to dream of. The faint scent of pine needles had lingered, an anchor to a memory that still made his heart ache with tenderness.
Then there was the proposal, on a quiet beach at sunset. Henry, usually so composed, had been endearingly nervous, fumbling with the ring box as the waves crashed gently behind them. He’d gotten down on one knee, sand clinging to his trousers, and asked Alex to spend forever with him. Alex had laughed, tears streaming down his face, and practically tackled Henry in his embrace, a resounding "Yes!" echoing across the darkening water.
But it wasn't just the grand gestures. It was the quiet, everyday domesticity that truly grounded him.
He pictured Henry, sleeves rolled up, humming off-key as he chopped vegetables for dinner, the warm scent of garlic and olive oil filling their Brooklyn brownstone. Or the way Henry’s hand would instinctively reach for his under the table, a silent conversation passing between them.
The gentle weight of Henry’s arm wrapped around him at night, the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing a lullaby against Alex’s ear as they drifted off to sleep. The way Henry would always leave a mug of perfectly brewed coffee on his nightstand in the mornings, just the way Alex liked it.
As these vivid, cherished memories unfolded in his mind, the harsh reality of his surroundings began to recede. The thunderous noise seemed to soften, becoming a distant hum. The tight knot in his stomach loosened, and the sharp edges of his headache began to blur.
A profound calm settled over him, a warm, pervasive sense of peace washing away the discomfort. He felt Henry’s presence in every fiber of his being, a comforting balm against the chaos. A soft, genuine smile touched Alex's lips, and he took a slow, deep breath, immensely calm.
Staying still for long periods of time, or okay if he was being fair, anything over a minute had never been his strong suit, but he knew it was of the utmost importance so he told himself he would try, so there Alex stayed, wrapped in the comforting embrace of the seemingly endless blissful memories he and Henry had together, and the promise of forever that sparkled before them was just the icing on the cake.
From the observation room, Henry paced, twirling his engagement ring on his finger habitually and biting his bottom lip nearly raw from unchecked anxiety.
He watched the blurred image of Alex through the glass, his brow furrowed with immense worry. He seemed to be doing alright, but it wasn’t like he could see his face or really anything other than his ankle and shoes.
Knowing how distressing it must be for Alex to have to endure such an isolating procedure Henry suddenly had an idea.
“Can I just… Can I say something to him?" he asked the technician, his voice low.
The tech, kind but uninterested nodded. "Just a quick word, though. We need to keep on schedule.”
Henry leaned into the microphone. "Alex, darling? I know you can’t answer me, but I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing great. Just a little longer, sweetheart. I’m right here. I love you.”
Alex’s eyes flashed open at the sound of Henry’s voice rattling shakily through the machine, and an immediate wave of relief and peace washed over him, sending a swarm of butterflies through his chest as he closed his eyes once again, replaying Henry’s words over and over as he waited out the test, the minutes seemingly growing longer with each new image that was taken.
He desperately wished he could answer him, tell him he was okay and how much he loved him too, but he knew it was a moot point. Even still, he found himself struggling not to break into a grin, just thinking about being back in Henry’s arms, his shoulders covering his own, making the weight of the entire world fall away.
Breaking his love-addled daydream was the crackling of the speaker once more. This time it was the technician again, with another instruction.
"We’re going to slide you out just a bit and administer some contrast now, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. You’ll feel a slight pinch and then a cool sensation. It is imperative that you absolutely do not move during this part."
When Alex is slid partially out, he can just barely make out Henry’s terrified face through the tint on the observation window. He knows Henry must be distraught, between his moderate needle phobia and his poorly regulated anxiety at the thought of Alex being in pain.
Alex wishes he could reassure Henry that he is okay, but he cannot even give a thumbs up or sit up even slightly to flash him a grin, lest he ruin the images and have to begin all over again.
He tells himself it's okay. This will all be over very soon and he and Henry will both be absolutely fine.
Interrupting his thoughts, the heavy door groaned as it opened as a nurse came in and expertly inserted an IV, pushing the contrast rapidly.
Alex, used to much larger needles from his frequent blood donations, didn't flinch, hell he barely even felt it, and all too soon he was sucked back into the tight machine, the cool liquid spreading through his arm, and then his body as the inescapable noises began again, even more intense this time.
He focuses on his breathing, once again, slow and steady. Inhale, exhale. He couldn’t move a muscle, the forced stillness somehow even more challenging than the noise.
As the minutes stretched on once again, Henry’s worried face flashed in his mind, and he mentally sent a reassuring message. I’m fine, Hen. Really.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the technician’s voice returned. "Alright, Mr. Claremont-Diaz, all done! You can move now."
The table slid out, and the IV, cage, hearing protection pads and earplugs were swiftly removed.
At the instruction of the technician, Alex sat up slowly, feeling a bit stiff, but otherwise okay.
He blinked rapidly, trying in vain to get his eyes to adjust to the overstimulating fluorescents flooding the room.
As he stepped out of the MRI room and into the hallway, Henry was there, practically pouncing on him, wrapping him in a tight but gentle hug, his strong arms winding around his back. Alex fell into his arms gratefully, blinking at him lovingly as he pressed kisses were pressed to his cheek, then his forehead.
"Oh my God, Alex, are you alright? I was so worried," Henry fretted, his voice thick with emotion.
Alex smiled, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "I’m fine, baby and I love you so much."
Alex nuzzled their noses together for a few seconds before the technician was clearing her throat and they took the hint that it was time for Alex to grab his things so they could get out there.
Pulling apart reluctantly, Alex led Henry into the small side room where Alex put his belt back on before retrieving his phone and the car keys.
“I’ll take those, darling.” Henry murmured, holding a hand out for the keys, the other already clasped with Alex’s.
Alex thought about arguing but when Henry raised one eyebrow slightly, welcoming the challenge, Alex knew this was one argument for which he was hopelessly outmatched and begrudgingly handed over the keys.
As they approached the car, Alex winced slightly, fingers tensing over the site where his IV had been only a few minutes before.
"You okay, love?" Henry asked immediately, his eyes searching Alex’s face.
"Yeah, fine," Alex replied calmly even as a small grimace creased his beautiful features. "Just… the tape from the IV. It’s pulling on my arm hair."
Henry chuckled, a shaky sound of relief. “I can help you with it if you want.” Henry offered once they were in the car. Alex obliged, holding his upturned forearm out to him.
“Quick or slow?” Henry asked as he began to pull at the edges of the medical tape to loosen it. “Ow!” Alex protested, his voice a strained sound. “I don’t care, but that hurts.”
Henry slowly worked the medical tape off Alex’s inner elbow, continuing steadily albeit gingerly despite Alex’s continued grumbles of “Ow!” and “This is the worst part…” Once he got it completely removed there was no obvious damage besides a very small, but visible patch that was now hairless.
“Sorry, love,” Henry murmured apologetically, pressing a kiss to the reddened area. “At least it’s all over now.”
Alex smiled up at him and pulled him in for a short but meaningful kiss, reveling in the delicious slide of their lips against one another, yearning for more but knowing it wasn’t the right time or place.
******
The late afternoon sun was blazing down as Henry turned the key in the ignition, but just as the engine rumbled to life, Alex’s vision blurred, numerous too-bright sunspots dancing before his eyes. He blinked profusely, rubbing his temples.
"Honey?" Henry’s voice was instantly laced with worry. “What is it? Are you alright?”
"Yeah. Fine. Just… Just need a minute," Alex murmured, closing his eyes and covering them with his hands to block out the bright sunlight for a second. Henry reached over, resting a hand on Alex’s knee and rubbing his thumb over it lightly.
After a few minutes, Henry offered him some water, holding his straw cup up to Alex’s lips. Alex took a long sip, feeling a little better. "Thanks, baby."
They made quick work of the short, two mile drive home, Henry constantly glancing over at Alex.
Once inside, they went upstairs to their room to drop off their things. Henry, still a little too keyed up from the events of the day to relax, went downstairs to make them coffee and tea.
Walking into their bedroom less than ten minutes later, he found Alex, sound asleep on their bed, curled on his side.
His breathing was deep and steady and Henry hoped he was dreaming peacefully and letting those dreams override the events of the day from taking root in his mind.
Henry smiled softly, a wave of tenderness washing over him as he pulled up a chair by the bed, reading in the dimming sunset glow that streamed through the window, occasionally brushing his fingers gently through Alex’s dark curls.
**********
Alex slept soundly for several hours, his occasional soft snores echoing in the large room.
Finally, around 7pm, he stirred, blinking groggily in the soft light from Henry’s bedside lamp as he read silently from a favorite Austen novel.
"Hen?" he mumbled, reaching out a hand.
"Hey, love," Henry said, putting down his book and immediately snuggling in beside him. "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," Alex yawned, burying his face in Henry’s neck. "And I want cuddles."
A low chuckle rumbled from Henry’s chest, “Say less, darling.” He grinned as he pulled him close, pressing several kisses to his hair before gently pressing their foreheads together and giving Alex eskimo kisses until he was content to just lay there for a while, safe in Henry’s arms as he both read aloud and recited from memory some of their shared favorite passages from his book.
"Ugh," Alex groaned eventually, "I messed up our plans for the beach after the game, didn’t I? I know how much you wanted to go."
"It’s alright, love," Henry murmured, tightening his embrace. "The beach isn’t going anywhere. Besides, it isn’t your fault anyway, the contrast from the MRI often makes people sleepy. It’s best for you to listen to your body for now and just rest."
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Alex murmured, kissing the tip of Henry’s nose and watching him blush.
“I’m not an Irishmen, but it seems I am the lucky one regardless.” Henry purrs low and heartfelt against Alex’s ear.
Alex rolls them so he is laying fully on top of Henry and snuggles practically inside his chest as they snuggle together for another hour or so until Alex’s stomach aggressively grumbles.
"Right then," Henry decides, reluctantly untangling himself, "dinner it is. Any requests, sleepyhead?"
Alex shook his head, resting his cheek against the soothing coolness of their sheets, and fighting off another massive yawn.
He eventually rolled over, before sitting up and half-heartedly trying to tame his out-of-control curls with a frustrated sigh before completely giving up, deciding that it’s nothing a ton of conditioner and a nice long shower can’t fix.
Deciding that was a problem for later, he got up and padded into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist from behind and nestling into his back.
"Hi, sweetheart,” Henry murmured lovingly, continuing to prepare their dinner. “You still doing okay?”
"Yeah," Alex mumbled into Henry’s shirt. "The whole experience was so weird though. Like being on a roller coaster, but you can’t move. Or being inside an Iron Man suit, only way less cool. Or a really un-snuggly sleeping bag."
Henry chuckled softly, turning in Alex’s embrace and kissing his forehead. "Well I’m sorry it wasn’t overly exciting or comfortable, but you were very brave, angel.”
They enjoyed a peaceful and delicious dinner before retiring to the couch to watch bake-off, David stretched between them.
Eventually, after several failed attempts, they both managed to drag themselves up their spiral stairs around 2am and go to bed like the proper adults they liked to occasionally pretend to be.
*****
The next day, the results came in revealing Alex had a mild concussion.
“It’s not a big deal, Hen. I’ve probably had them a hundred times before…” Alex protested, but Henry refused to give in and continued doting on him, ensuring he rested, limited his screen time, and just generally staying close.
The latter Alex swore if he was ever anything less than thrilled about, the only acceptable solution should be to have him detained because it is definitely a robot impersonating him.
Alex, though a bit exasperated by the unwavering attention, was immensely grateful. How lucky he was to have someone who loved him so completely, no matter what kind of trouble he found himself in.
It only took a few days under Henry’s watchful, loving care until he was completely healed and back to his usual shenanigans, this time roping in Nora and June for good measure.