The Crown (Prince Harry fanfic #5)

Chapter Forty-Four

And it continued. Her laughs were like thunder. Her stomach ached from the muscles getting a work out. Her body was doubled over. Lucy placed a hand to her stomach, trying to hold herself together. Her face was hot, burning up. Her whole body temperature had risen. Suddenly, her laughs weren't loud, but rather it was heaving sound. Lucy couldn't get enough air in her lungs. A smile stayed on her face. Her eyes were light. She laughed. But there wasn't enough air. It was dry heaving with a smile. She coughed but continued.

The whole time, Harry stared at his wife through the phone. She had just lost her best friend, and she was laughing. He was confused, but then again, this was Lucy. She wasn't exactly normal.

The laughter and dry heaving quieted down. Her eyes rested on Harry. "I'm leaving tomorrow night. I'll be back in two days. Give my love to my boys."

"Of course." He smiled sadly. "Am I one of your boys?"

"Sure, I love you too." Her voice cracked.

Tears spilt from her eyes, and Lucy didn't realize it for a second.

"Holy shit," Harry commented quickly.

Her cheeks were wet. Her body temperature stayed arisen. Then her eyes burned as makeup splashed in. Tears spilt out more. Her tongue tasted the salt from her tears. Snot flowed out of her nose. It covered everything. She couldn't wipe it off, like the tears. It was everywhere, touching everything. It wouldn't stop! Once again, Lucy couldn't breathe. The tears wouldn't let her. Her heartbeat was too quick and her body shook. The world, to her, was going to shit. Everything hurt. Her body ached. Her head pounded. Her lungs burned, like her eyes.

"Now, you're crying," Harry commented with a grimace. He had wanted to come to Minnesota with her, but Lucy had been one to say no. The boys needed to stay at home, she wanted that. There were people to take care of them, but Lucy wanted at least one parent with them. So Harry was ordered to stay. They had a disagreement over it, but he stayed. Now, he wished he hadn't. His wife was broken in front of him.

Shaking, Lucy tried to clear her face. It didn't work. The loud sobs of torture lasted for another five minutes before Lucy could start forming words again. She couldn't form thoughts for the longest time. Finally, she was able to realize her surroundings. "Sorry," she apologized.

"It's fine, Luce." Harry wished to be there. "Let's talk about it, yeah?"

They had talked about it a little before she left, but it was different now. More information had been fed to Lucy since she arrived.

"Sydney committed suicide," Lucy said it aloud. It was the first time she said it out loud. Shit, it hurt to admit. It hurt to say and think about. "Sydney killed herself." Her chest pounded again. Tears spilt from her eyes again. Sobs left her lips again. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit," she muttered to herself. Swear words helped her. It just made the pain a little less.

"Luce?"

"Shove it in. Shove it in. Shove it in," Lucy said to herself. She shook her blond hair back and sniffled. "They found her a week ago, in her house. She had," Lucy let out a chuckle because of irony, "with a self inflicted gunshot wound. She killed herself with a gun." Lucy let out another shaky breath. "She did not purpose, not an accident. She killed herself on purpose with a gun; it was dramatic. And you know we all feel the pain, because we survived a fucking school shooting. So many people died that day." Lucy's family had died that day. "So many people were shot that day. Syd wasn't even shot that day. She wasn't fucking shot that day!"

Harry waited patiently.

"She was shot later, you know. And she was trying to save the person, because it was a robbery. And she got shot and she died." Tear pooled in her eyes.

"You're blaming yourself, Luce."

"You bet I am. I fucked up."

"You did nothing wrong."

She shook her head. "She followed me. She saw what I was doing. I was saving people. I did these things. I stopped a terrorist from shooting up a train. I did this and this, and she wanted to do it too. And she fucking messed it up. But I started it. I played hero when I wasn't really a hero."

"You took down the gunman in the school."

"No, I didn't. I distracted him while he got shot. I am not a hero, but she thought I was. And she wanted to be like me." Lucy hated that, always had. When little girls, at events, said they wanted to be like Lucy, she hated it, every single time. "God damn it."

"Luce, please don't blame yourself."

"I should've been there, Harry. I shouldn't have left home. I ran away and... and...."

"If you would've been there, then what?" he asked. "You wouldn't have this life now. You wouldn't have me and you wouldn't have two beautiful sons. You wouldn't have people adoring you and loving you. You wouldn't be the person you are today. The person you are today is amazing and stunning and wonderful. You are a badass."

"Harry, I'm happy with the life I have, with the life I have lived. I have you; I love you. And I love our boys and I love my life. I'm happy with what I can accomplish. But if I hadn't left when I was sixteen, then I would've been there for her. I left to go to Africa when I was eighteen, but I stopped when I was sixteen. I quit when I was sixteen, after the shooting, after a bunch of people died."

"Luce, you had to heal yourself, physically and mentally and emotionally. You had to heal yourself. You had to accomplish that so you could leave."

"I should've seen, Harry, that she was in pain, and I should've tried to help her." Lucy felt so angry with herself. "I knew she had PTSD, and it fucks you up. She didn't deal with the physical wounds of the shooting. She dealt with the emotional wounds and the mental wounds. And everyone thought she had moved passed the PTSD, like she had gotten better. And she was better, and then shit hit the fan. And she was gone. PTSD came back, like it always can. We're never fully healed because we remember, Harry, we remember."

Harry knew this as well as anyone else, if not better. He saw when he served. He saw it in the Invictus Games and with soldiers. He knew. Harry saw it with Lucy. Thankfully it didn't come often. It was calm, like when she woke up in the night. She didn't like loud pops, but most people didn't. She didn't run away. Lucy had gotten help and accepted it a long time ago. Lucy was lucky.

Lucy continued, "She couldn't handle it anymore. It got too bad, and we all forgot what happened. We all moved on. The world continues to move even when you don't, and she fucking blew her brains out." Anger grew in her gain. "God, I know I shouldn't be angry at her, but I am. I am pissed off. I am annoyed. I blame her for this and I shouldn't! There are actual people to blame, like the asshole that shot us up. I blame him, but I am angry at her!"

"You're angry at her because you feel like she abandoned you. You feel like she left you all alone. You feel like you hate her because she has been your best friend since you were six. She has been the person you have always been able to talk to. Sydney was your rock, and she's gone," Harry stated. "She was part of your old life, and you liked her because of that. Because this new life, with me and all of this shit, it is crazy. And we're sometimes not real. Sydney is real. And if you needed to getaway, you would talk to her. She was the person that would keep you sane in this madness. She was objective because she wasn't apart of this. She was normal."

Harry was right, which Lucy hated to admit.

"There has been a hole in my heart for a while now, Harry. And I was thinking about it today. My mind wandered," she swallowed, "during the funeral. Fucking Latin, Catholics, no one fucking speaks Latin." Lucy tried to get back on point. "Harry, I need to make a change."

"Whatever it is, I will help you," he promised.

She nodded. "I need to know why I started on this path, and I don't mean going all the way back to when I was sixteen. I don't even mean Africa. I mean the refugees, when I worked with them in London and I traveled to work with them. I mean those people. I want to help those people again. I need to help them again."

"Let's get to work."