Chapter Text
Chapter One
The sound of clattering metal surrounds him, the laughter of men sitting around eating their first meal of the day. The way the atmosphere is still, with a calm energy one different from what’s beyond the fabric of the tent they call their “chow” hall. Henry never thought he would be here, not in a million years. He had always said he wouldn’t enlist, that he wasn’t built for it, wasn’t made to go and fight in wars.
That was until his father died, his mother was so consumed by her depression from losing the love of her life, his brother had completely clung to his grandmother, changing his behavior towards his siblings drastically becoming abusive and cruel. His sister, dear sweet Bea had gone off the deep end. Henry found her stumbling through his bedroom at five in the morning completely out of her mind, laying in bed next to him cuddling against his shoulder saying.
“I’m so tired Father, can we watch some of your movies until I fall asleep?” She had said breaking Henry in two, thinking he was their father.
After dealing with Phillips abuse daily, making sure their mother ate, and demanding Bea in a way he truly feels remorse about now into rehab, he never mourned himself.
He was so focused on those around him, he pushed his own grief away, pushing the crippling depression aside saying to himself.
“You must be here for them, don’t be selfish.”
Looking back now, Henry should’ve been selfish. He should’ve taken his time to grieve his father, and not be so focused on the others. But he felt he had to, had to be the strong one, the one they all leaned on.
It wasn’t until Phillip and his grandmother the Queen, called a meeting with him. They proceeded to tell him he had two options, the first being that since Phillip had become engaged to Martha that the baton so to speak had now been handed to him.
He needed to find a high class lady, one with a sparkling record and respected family. He needed to propose within the year, of course when Henry refused saying he wouldn’t put love on a damn timeline.
His grandmother leaned in close after having Phillip go get her another cup of tea, telling him he must put aside any feelings that may reflect poorly on the crown.
She had realized when Henry was young that he was in her eyes different, that he leaned more towards men than women. When he became of age, she sat down and discussed how his tendencies were not acceptable, nor would they be tolerated.
Henry was crushed, he felt outed, and backed into a corner.
The second option, enlist and serve his country. It didn’t help that Phillip had achieved both, had served within the military and once he came home he became smitten with Martha, no more than a year or so later he proposed to her.
When he refused both, it sent Phillip and the Queen into a fit telling him he was being hardheaded and would come around after he sat and realized what good they were doing for them.
When he went to object, his grandmother rose from her chair with a stiff upper lip telling him he had two weeks to decide or it would be decided for him.
Henry’s last straw was two days before he left, he had just come back from seeing his sister at the rehab institution. When he arrived there was a woman waiting for him, blonde hair, blue eyes, and heavy makeup.
He was confused as he walked up, greeting her politely. His mood souring as his brother stepped forward out of the parlor room, a smug look on his face as he told Henry this was his date for the evening.
Henry, amused his brother as he took her out to his vehicle where his driver looked at him confused. They got a mile down the road into a small little town, when he had his driver stop. He paid the girl generously apologizing for the waste of her time and sent her on her way, that night he wrote a letter to his sister, explaining his absence.
He packed a bag, took his dog David to his best friend Pez’ house, and went to Sargent Darnell’s office that very morning. He enlisted, and was immediately sent to basic training.
He asked that his Royal status not be made a fuss over, that if his fellow soldiers realized who he was so be it. But he didn’t want to be paraded around, he didn’t want to be known as Prince Henry, he just wanted to be known as Henry where he could be himself.
It had been four months after his fathers death when he enlisted, though he’s gotten homesick mostly missing his sister and David. The only time he cried was when they shaved his head, and it wasn’t out of vanity, no it was because the last time he had seen someone’s head be shaved was his father when the cancer had gotten to the point it made his hair fall out.
His father shaved it instantly, saying he thought the look suited him. It did, it truly did. And when Henry looked at himself he seen his father in his own reflection, now knowing why Bea thought he was his father that night breaking him in two.
Henry never would’ve dreamed of being where he was today, when he was younger he always felt he was to fragile to be in the army, that he wouldn’t make it through basic training before crawling back home with the looming cloud of failure above his head.
He made it through basics with flying colors, channeling every ounce of suppressed emotions into his training. To say Henry had gained muscle would be an understatement, his once lean and lanky build has become toned, and bulging within his army green t shirts.
When he FaceTimed his sister after finally having the courage to, she was in utter shock of her not so little, little brother as she put it he looked so grown like a man.
He tries to talk to her at least once a week, keeping in touch with her and keeping tabs on Pez, David, and his mother.
His mother hadn’t even realized he had went “missing” so to speak, until he had been enlisted for three months. She had went to see her children to find one missing, Bea had tried to hold her tongue when her mother asked where Henry was.
Phillip was expecting his first child, and Bea had told Henry he asked of him frequently. That she thought deep down he realized he had messed up, but Henry wouldn’t dare allow himself to believe his older brother had grown a conscience. No matter how badly he wanted to have a relationship with his brother, he wouldn’t let hope build where death resides.
“Aye, Fox you in there?”
Henry jumps, as he feels Sargent Grants knuckles gently tap against his head.
Sargent, Ezra Grant.
The first friend Henry made when he was sent to fight against the Russians, they had crossed paths on the line of duty. A bomb detonated, almost killing Sargent Grant instantly. If it wasn’t for Henry tackling him to the ground behind a brick building and shielding him with his own body. The U.S would have lost one of their best shoulders, as they had sent their troops out to fight alongside the UK.
“Yeah, sorry just-“
“To far into that smart brain of yours?” Grant interrupts, earning an eye roll from Henry.
“I was thinking if my sister thank you kindly.” Henry throws the green grape he had been mindlessly holding at him, making it bounce off his forehead causing a satisfied grin to emerge on his lips.
“Well as lovely as your sister is, get to eating we leave in forty and I’m not having you bitching about how your belly button is eating your backbone on the drive in.” Ezra states pointedly, stealing one of the cupped cheeses off his plate.
“What does that even mean?” Henry asks confusedly, not ever understanding the bullshit that comes out Grants mouth.
He hurriedly eats his sandwich, being sure to refill his canteen with water for their trip. He tucks his worn copy of Pride and Prejudice into the inner pocket of his vest, as he gears up to leave camp.
He places his helmet on his head, fastening it under his chin as he climbs into the army vehicle.
The loud engine roars around them, the radio muffled by the sound of gravel under its tires and men’s voices yelling above the chaos.
Henry feels light, and airy as he chats idly about how American food is so much better than his homelands.
“No you don’t understand, I love the puddings back home of course. But Tamales, with rice, and that delicious sauce you make it makes England seems so bland.” Henry chuckles softly at the nonsense of this conversation, that they have at least once a week.
Grant loves to tease Henry about his love for food, but especially spicy foods. Telling him he’s an odd breed, which makes Henry laugh every time.
They fall silent as they come up to the village they’re stationed in, it’s quiet, to quiet.
They hop out as each vehicle comes to a stop, in a single file they fall into the village dust clouding around their boots with each step.
There’s a pit in Henry’s stomach, one he’s learned to listen to knowing when this feeling occurs it’s a warning.
He looks over to Grant, giving him a nod.
Grant returns the favor, signaling to approach with caution. As they come through the gate, the little village is quiet. Not a soul in sight.
Linen flows softly in the warm breeze that flows through the vacant streets, the market that’s normally bustling is still.
As they go deeper in, they see one or two villagers in passing. Yet Henry can’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
A little boy runs out in front of him, kicking an old beat up soccer ball. He gently kicks it back to the little boy, and can’t help but notice the fear in his eyes falling away slightly as they kick the ball back and forth.
This is one part of the job Henry loves and hates equally, bringing a sense of ease to the kids in the villages they go into, but also seeing the fear in their eyes, their tear stained cheeks.
He looks over at Grant, who gently tells the little boy to run on home. Before he does he stops in front of Henry, giving a crooked little smile and a quick wave before grabbing his soccer ball and running off.
“I hate to send them off when they feel safe with us.” Grant quietly states, making Henry look over at him.
“As do I, but we’re not exactly the safest to be around right now, not with how quiet it is.”
As they go deeper into the village, Henry is certain that somethings wrong he can’t shake it.
The wind is to still, the sun is hiding behind the rooftops when it typically beats down upon them. The lively streets vacant, not a soul in sight since the little boy and few others they’ve seen. In this part of the village it’s typically busting from the seems, with music, food, families and friends.
Though they don’t love the soldiers, they’ve grown to accept their presence. They’ve grown to find comfort in their souls mingling with theirs, keeping them safe.
Today, it is as though it’s a ghost town. Nothing, no one, in sight not even a sound. It’s moments like these when Henry questions whether or not he was truly cut out to enlist, with his anxiety making his own mind its own kind of war zone.
But so far it doesn’t seem to be his downfall, but they’re saving Grace.
It’s been more than once now that Henry’s “gut feeling” was the thing that got them out just in time, that has saved their asses.
His fellow Marines keeping an eyes on him, asking if he’s getting a bad feeling, if he feels off about an area or situation. At first he thought they were making jabs at him, but quickly he realized they were asking because they trusted him, they trust his anxious guy feeling. They act almost like he’s their secret weapon, that he’s their good luck charm, but Henry feels less than lucky.
Henry’s body stiles suddenly as the smell of gun powder floods his nose, they’ve not shot their weapons once which means it’s not from their guns.
Before Henry can open his mouth to warn his brothers in action to step out of the line of fire, a loud ringing floods through Henry’s eardrums until it all goes black.