My Home From Home - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

"Yes...You see, the thing is, as afore mentioned, this building was converted from an old farmhouse." Thomas explained, running a hand thoughtlessly over his perfectly styled dark blond hair. "The bottom floor was sectioned off and converted into the constabulary and the doctor's surgery, and the top floors were left as they were; as bedrooms."
"Bedrooms? Like... Living quarters for staff?" Henry's eyes widened in pure intrigue; it was a rather peculiar setup to have a cottage hospital that wasn't actually a cottage hospital now to make it not only an infirmary but also a police station as well as staff living quarters. "Oh, I see..." Henry's sapphire blue eyes brightened ever so slightly as a proverbial lightbulb went off in his head. The employment letter Henry had received from the  Alberta Ministry of Health had mentioned living quarters being included with the job, though he'd priorly expected something rather along the lines of a small cottage somewhere; a bedroom above the surgery wasn't exactly what he'd envisioned.
"Yeah..." Trailed off Thomas, pursing his lips and nodding awkwardly as he locked eyes with the young dark haired boy. "Oh, this is Danny." Thomas lovingly patted the head the small boy who was hugging his leg as Henry blinked his gaze down towards the adorable little blond boy. He'd actually forgotten he was there to begin with; understandably so considering he was a bit preoccupied with the confusion surrounding his living situation. "We live upstairs above the police station, so it appears as though we'll be... neighbours."
"Ah! I see." Henry blinked perplexedly, though his confusion was short lived as he watched the handsome blond man scoop up the little boy and carry him in his arms; from first glance he was perhaps the most adorable little toddler he'd ever seen with the most precious pure, big eyes. "Hello Danny, I'm Henry." Henry cooed at the  sheepish little boy who simply stared at him blankly with those innocent round eyes.
"Danny, buddy. You wanna say hello to Dr Henry?" Thomas' eyes brightened, his face beaming as he looked lovingly at his little son in his arms. Henry couldn't help but smile at the sight, the little blond boy with his father's brown eyes dressed smartly in his adorable little boy clothes; a tucked in shirt with brown tweed short trousers and a little tweed suit jacket. But what surprised Henry was how attracted he was to the handsome tall blond man; he'd heard of this phenomenon before in some of his light reading. The idea of being hopelessly attracted to a man who is good with children, a way of ones psyche telling them that that person will make a good future mate. Though he hadn't, up until this point, realised that this phenomenon extended to his lot; men who took fondness to other men.
"C'mon Danny, don't be rude, say hi!" Thomas said softly as the little boy bashfully buried his face in his father's lapel. "Sorry about that, he's a bit shy." Thomas flashed Henry his dimples felt himself go weak in the knees yet again, fighting the urge to swoon at the sight of a man being so paternal.
"I-It's quite alright." Henry smiled warmly, hanging on to his composure as best he could. "I was terribly bashful as a child as well." He stepped towards the man as someone would  should they be approaching a skittish deer in the wild.
"Hello there, Danny." Henry gave it another go, tilting his head slightly with a smile as he gazed at the precious little blond lad in the man's arms. Henry felt his heart swell ever so slightly in his chest as the little boy turned his head to look up into the dark haired man's sapphire eyes with his bright brown eyes.
"Hewwo." Danny blushed brightly before burying his face shyly in his tiny little hands.
"You're absolutely adorable aren't you, Danny?" Henry said sweetly, noting the boy had his father's deep brown eyes and brown hair; he could practically say with utmost confidence that Thomas likely liked exactly like him when he was a child.
"Danny, say thank you to Dr Henry" Thomas took a mental but stern paternal tone as the little boy blushed bright red.
"Tank you." Danny mumbled softly, using one of his little fists to rub his innocent amber eyes.
"You're quite welcome." Henry ruffled the toddlers soft blond hair. "And you can call me Henry, I should think it best we become friends since it seems we shall all be living under the same roof. Would you like to be friends, Danny?" He asked sweetly watching as the little boy nodded bashfully before burying his face in his father's coat yet again.
"Alright bud, go on, run along and play. I have to show Mr Henry the rest of the house." Said Thomas as he set the little boy down onto the wood flooring, heaving teasingly as though he was having trouble lifting him. Danny giggled adorably as he took off out of the room, the toppling of his little boy shoes growing distant as he disappeared into God-knows where.
"He likes you." Thomas whispered softly with a smile as he folded his arms over his chest once again standing so close to Henry that he could smell his light aftershave. Henry tried heard to stop himself from taking in the view of the clearly muscular man's biceps as they seemed to  bulge through the sleeves of his scarlet tunic.
"He's precious. He looks just like you." Henry's cheeks flustered, watching with a throbbing heart as the man blushed and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. There was something about Thomas that Henry couldn't quite understand; he'd always found confidence in a man to be attractive, but something about this handsome manly man being so wholesome, shy, reserved, and sweet really seemed to do numbers on poor Henry's heart.
Thomas nodded with a tight lipped smile, he didn't seem to be a man of many words; in one swift motion he knelt back down and lifted Henry's cases, silently beckoning towards a creaky dim staircase in the back of the house that lead up stairs; the house was old even for the time, likely Victorian, and thus came with it little creaks and squeaks that one would naturally expect of a house standing for that long.
Henry followed without saying so much as a word, watching silently from behind as Thomas led him up the stairs, his back muscles clearly tensing even through the layers of his Mountie uniform. In that moment he felt such a burning desire for the handsome blond, but he also knew that acting on this attraction was perhaps the worst possible thing he could do. Here Henry found himself, halfway across the world from his home and his family, all due to the gut wrenching thought that he'd face legal challenges for being at an establishment that catered to men like him. Only to be standing here contemplating risking it all for a literal law enforcement figure whom he suspects might has the same inclinations as he does; and though Henry had never been wrong, it was still a risk he knew he dare not take.
"And... Here we are. Your bedroom." Thomas stopped at one of the bedroom doors along a long corridor with doors lining the either side all the way down. He creaked the door open, glancing back over his shoulder towards the other man who followed behind him silently. As he stepped inside he turned to see Henry wearily peeking around the corner of the door frame before tiptoeing into the room.
Thomas' eyes remained transfixed upon the pretty raven haired lad simply taking in his view; the way he stepped gracefully about the room, blue eyes darting around and scanning his newfound surroundings methodically. The strand of raven black hair that'd fallen into his eyes, practically begging for Thomas to push it back atop his hair; though he knew better than to follow the itching he felt within to stalk up to him and push it away. He felt a warm sensation in his cheeks as he watched the boy smile and nod to himself, as though pleased with the place he'd found himself in.
"It's quite homely, I will admit." Henry said softly as he glanced around with a smile perking up the corners of his pretty pink lips as he got a good sweeping view of his new abode. There was a four posted mahogany bed in the centre complete with matching bedside tables and a bureau in the opposite corner. A large wardrobe with the same style as the rest of the furniture staring beside the chimney peace and a hearty stack of firewood next to the hearth. "Right, well, I should think it shall do quite nicely." He flashed a smile towards the handsome Constable, earning him a gracious yet confident nod in return.
"Well I shall leave you to get settled in. The washroom is across the hall." Thomas beckoned Henry towards the corridor once again and pointed out towards another door across the hall. "And just there... That's where the boys and I live." He said pointing down towards a shut door at the very end of the long corridor, though in contrast to the rest of the doors this one had a glass window on the top half that allowed one to see a continuation of the corridor on the other side. "There were doors put in when the house was converted to separate the police station and surgery, they do lock both ways if you'd prefer to keep it locked. I'll keep our end unlocked so that should you ever be in need anything, you can simply come ask."
"That's jolly nice of you..." Henry admitted softly, not so much as realising he was batting his eyelashes like a schoolboy with a crush. "Thank you."
"What are neighbours for." Shrugged Thomas with a warm dimpled smile that made Henry feel like he'd melt. "Well, you enjoy the rest of your day, Dr Dunmurry." The young Constable tipped his hat respectfully at the dark haired me before turning to take his leave; though not before Henry could stop him, placing his hand the man's rugged forearm.
"I meant what I said earlier..." Henry began softly. "To Danny... About being friends... I meant it for all of us" Thomas cocked his head to lock eyes with Henry's sapphire blues. "I'd like you to call me 'Henry' as well."
"Very well, Henry." A smile crept across Thomas' gorgeously chiselled face. "And I'd like you to call me 'Thomas'..."
Henry didn't know why, but the way Thomas' warm brown eyes honed in on his seemed to all but take his breath away. It was as though for the time being they were the only two people in the world; it was as though his knees seemed to give way altogether whenever he looked into those invitingly mysterious dark eyes.
They silently bid one another good-bye, leaving Henry once again alone with merely his muddled up thoughts. He stalked back into his new bedchambers, placing his hands on his waist and letting out a huff as he mentally organised himself for the undertaking he had before him; getting settled in. The room was quite quaint and homely; there was a warm feeling about it and it was clear to see that whomever owned the home prior to it being transformed into a police station and surgery by was quite well to do.
If there was one thing Henry loathed it was packing his things only to have to unpack them upon his return. One by one he opened his cases and placed his belongings into their designated locations within the wardrobe and atop the bureau; on the train he'd rather thought this to be a temporary bit of his life, but a deep seated feeling deep within the pits of his stomach told him that he'd be here for a while. And though he expected it to be rather bleak of a mining town, what he'd seen thus far pleasantly surprised him. The charming buildings along it's pleasantly old fashioned high street, the wide open spaces, the general brighter weather that paled to dreary English autumns... The handsome young Constable.
He sunk down onto the corner of the bed taking a moment to collect himself before he unpacked the final suitcase of the lot; it mostly had random things in it that he'd yet to find himself needing since he'd arrived in Canada, lending to the fact that he'd yet to open it since leaving London. Pulling the leather case towards him he undid the fastens and prised it open; it contained mostly papers, a few medical books he figured he'd utilise for reference, and some extra stationary. But amongst the miscellaneous mess of random odds and ends he found something he didn't quite recognise; small mauve coloured satin drawstring bag.
He narrowed his gaze at the peculiar bag; he'd never seen it before and of this fact he was quite certain. Grabbing one of the drawstrings he lifted it up and immediately noted that it was heavier than he'd anticipated, the light outline of an envelop showing through the delicate satin cloth. Henry's face contorted out of pure perplexity; what was it and most importantly how the devil did it get there?
Henry undid the drawstrings and opened it, his body tensing up as he looked inside to see a sealed envelop and the slightest glint of something with a metallic lustre hidden within. He hastily overturned the bag onto the duvet gasping in utter shock to see an envelop addressed to 'Harry' about a half dozen or so articles of jewellery that, contrary to the bag, he did recognise. Distraught with utter confusion he fumbled with the envelop, ripping it open and pulling the letter hidden within... A letter from his father.
My dearest Harry,
I pray that this letter finds you well; healthy, safe, and settled in your new home in Canada. You must think me rather cold hearted and unfeeling as I should think I've come across as of late. As I'm sure you're aware, writing this letter to you is difficult to say the least; we Englishmen aren't much use when it comes to conveying our feelings. Your Grandpapa always said emotions were best left to foreigners and the working class.
I won't pretend like I'm pleased to learn what you are, I also won't pretend as though you're the first I've met in my time on God's green earth. I don't think myself an intolerant man; only a man crippled by the weight of the title he holds. In families like ours men like you aren't spoken of. I daresay it isn't because they don't exist, but solely because we carry the weight of the entire English aristocracy and the centuries old institutions that come alongside it.
I hope that by the time you've read this letter I've come to my senses and sent you off with a warm hug and kiss atop your soft hair just as I did when you were a mere boy going off to boarding school or as a smartly dressed young man going off to university. But in the event that I, a mere weak mortal, do not build up the strength to look past your recent indiscretions, just know that I love you, son. I love you with all my heart and perhaps that is why my anger is so fiery in light of recent events. I hope you won't reveal this to your other brothers, but I've always had rather a soft corner for you of all the children; your spirit, your nurturing personality, your warmth and the light you bring as you brighten any room that you enter.
Which is why I write you this letter today and hope that it may bring some comfort to you as well as me; to tell you, my dearest boy, that I love you with all my heart, and that you have my sincerest apologies for the way in which I've cast you aside and hurt you as of late.
Before you left, I took something from you that you've had all your life; something that has dictated your very existence all your life. Your Identity. Which is why I've tucked your old passports and identification documents in the bottom of your cases; should your name and blood line ever need to get you out of trouble. And within this satchel I've given to you some of our family's most prised jewels that've been in the families for generations. Should you find yourself in need you may sell them for a hefty price, but I've mostly given it to you so that you may always remember who you are no matter what your new passports might say.
I know not if we shall be fated to meet again in this lifetime, my dear Harry, but I wish you the very best of luck and every happiness in this world. May God keep you and guide you on your journey, and may you soon return home to us; to your family, to your home which shall always be open to you. Be careful, my son, for in this world you'll find that odds stacked against you solely because of who you are and how you're born. I won't pretend like I understand it, but I can't for a minute believe you'd choose to be the way you are; choose to feel isolated in your struggle. I can only assume that the road ahead of you is dark, winding, and you might find yourself in loss of hope or so terribly alone; but even in the bleakest of winters I want you to know that you're never alone, not truly. Take care of yourself, my darling boy, and as always. I love you with all my heart.
Affectionately, Your dearest Papa.
Henry folded the letter back up as he finished reading the last words; he could practically hear his father's voice through the ink handwriting. His lips quivered as he felt a tear cascade down his alabaster cheek. If he'd said he didn't resent his father for the past few weeks, he'd be lying; but perhaps that blame was all that'd kept him strong in that time. But now that he had nobody left to blame it all seemed to leave him vulnerable; and regardless of what the letter said, feeling utterly, and unequivocally... alone...