"Thank you so much Mr and Mrs Gagarov for your kind hospitality, but we simply must get going." Henry stood up and straightened out his tweed suit jacket and waistcoat as the kind faced couple adn their children all stood along side him; one of the younger boys handing him his fur lined overcoat and Thomas his standard issue navy blue Mountie winter pea coat.
"The pleasure was all our's, Doctor. Thank you for coming to see Papa, and thank you Constable for bringing him." Mr Gagarov nodded cordially as Thomas walked up to stand next to Henry by the door; who internally was battling the urge to let out a disgruntled groan at the man's proximity to him.
"No problem at all, Sir." Thomas tipped his hat with a charming smile, all the while Henry internalised and eye-roll. He usually loved how charming and charismatic Thomas was, but in that moment everything he did seemed to irritate him.
They bid the family farewell as they felt it getting late and didn't wish to impose on them. They'd originally intended to make haste and leave early so as to be home before sundown, but as they chatted with the family they found it harder and harder to leave. What was originally meant to be a cup of tea and a bit of light conversation turned into hours of the family sharing their stories about stowing away on a boat from St Petersburg to Southampton and eventually reaching out to another Russian noble family who'd fled out to Western Canada. It was absolutely fascinating to Henry, and though Thomas knew they'd best be off, he couldn't stop watching how intrigued and interested Henry was.
However, unfortunately for Thomas and Henry, nightfall wasn't the sole pitfall that would ultimately throw a spanner in the works this time around. For about half and hour into their journey, they met with a ferocious blizzard as the snow and wind began to pickup around them making visibility near to impossibly through the howling arctic gusts. Henry and Thomas squinted as the unyielding snow continued to fall forming what looked almost like a wall of cascading snow into a grey abyss. Sitting paralysed in the horse drawn cart as the frigid tundra wind hit them like a tonne of bricks; each minute they tried to weather it was another minute of utter and inexplicable torture.
"We have to stop!" Thomas called out over the relentless wind, though Henry didn't so much as acknowledge him. "Henry! We can't go on like this! The blizzard is too strong!" He yelled, again earning him a glare form the pretty blue eyed boy.
"You promised not to speak to me!" Scoffed Henry rudely, unwilling to show how scared he really was as he shivered behind under the hood of the carriage.
"Henry, we're in a goddamn blizzard! A bit of perspective would be nice right about now!" Thomas mirrored Henry's impertinent tone. "We need to stop for the night!"
"Absolutely not!" Henry spat sharply. "You're getting me home and you're getting me home tonight! I don't care how you do it."
"I can't see anything! We could literally be going in the wrong direction! Henry, please! Just be reasonable! Please!" Thomas pleaded, and it clearly was working as Henry sighed to himself defeatedly. "I have a tent and some emergency supplies in the back of the carriage, we can wait it out and leave when it's safer to travel. Please..."
"Alright, fine." Henry screamed angrily, tugging his toque down over his ears to keep the bone-chilling wind and snow from getting at his ears.
"Thank you..." Thomas sighed in relief as he scanned though the dismal visibility before him, hoping to make out some sort of wooded area or thicket to seek refuge from the blizzard. Thankfully for them both it wasn't long before they did find a wooded area where they could get in and pitch a tent.
Henry sat on the carriage with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips quivering as he watched Thomas hastily shuffling about to set up camp for the night; finding what little dry kindling he could to build a fire in a dry patch under the refuge of the boughs of fir trees above them. Thomas unhitched his horse, Trooper, from the carriage, leading him closer to the fire and stroking his head and mane lovingly as he splayed out a basket to keep him warm from the chilly winter wind.
Thomas carried on making camp, periodically glancing up towards Henry who sat stubbornly bundled in his fur coat and glaring at him with his icy deep blue eyes. He sighed to himself as he grabbed a pot out of the back of his cart and a tin of beans, opening the tin and heating its contents over the fire. He didn't know if it was the war, or training to be a Mountie, or perhaps it was merely his paranoid demeanour, but Thomas always kept supplies in the back of his carriage just in case of an emergency; tins, tools, clothes, a tent, a sleeping bag, and other such basic necessities.
"Come sit by the fire." Thomas beckoned with a hopeful look in his eyes that soon faded as Henry simply ignored him. "C'mon Henry, I know you're mad, but you'll freeze sitting over there."
"Fine." Henry grumbled under his breath irritatedly, he knew Thomas had a point, but it was that didn't make him any less cross at the handsome young officer.
He sat down on the small mat next to Thomas, and though Henry absolutely hated being that close to the taller blond, he had no other option. The main issue in the situation was that Thomas normally travelled alone as per orders from the RCMP; thus he only really ever carried emergency supplies for one. Nonetheless he was more than willing to share, though he could already tell that Henry would prove to be a bit more difficult to say the least.
They shared the singular tin of beans out of a singular mug with the singular spoon that Thomas had which needless to say had Henry absolutely fuming. And thus they spent the most of the night in complete and painful silence barring the light soothing crackling of burning kindling and the howling snowy wind that the trees and foliage gave them relief from. Henry stared mindlessly down at his gloves, though he could feel the indelible sensation of eyes on him; Thomas's eyes to be exact, who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Henry fair skin, lightly illuminated by the warm auburn glow of the fire.
"I wish to go sleep." Henry cleared his throat, glaring up into Thomas' guilt-laden, broken eyes.
"Very well." Thomas said softly slapping his hands on his thighs and standing himself up, beckoning Henry to get up as well. "You go on into the tent, I'll put out the fire and be right in."
Henry nodded, following the young Constables directions as he walked towards the tent; minding his head as he pushed through the canvas door flaps to enter. He glanced around seeing nothing but a singular fur lined sleeping bag and a pillow and a lantern.
"Quite the blizzard, eh?" Thomas entered the tent and fastening the door flaps shut to keep out the bone-chilling winter air; turning around and recoiling visibly at the sight of Henry glaring daggers at him. "Ah! Uhh... What's wrong?"
"What's... WRONG?! What's bloody wrong?!" Henry's fuse clearly reached it's end. "Where am I meant to sleep!?"
"In the sleeping bag?" Thomas scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Alright, then where are you meant to sleep?" Henry narrowed his glare back at the handsome officer.
"In... the sleeping... bag..." Thomas grimaced, knowing Henry was likely going to absolutely lose the plot.
"Are you taking the mick?!" Henry threw his hands up in disbelief.
"Listen, Henry I-I know this isn't ideal." Thomas tried to reason with Henry but he was having none of it. "I'm sorry, I only have one sleeping bag. It's big enough for the two of us. I know it'll be weird."
"It won't be odd." Henry folded his arms over his chest with heightened attitude. "Because I won't be sleeping in it."
"Come on, Henry Just... Can't you accommodate for one night. It's not like we have another option." Thomas pointed out matter-of-factly.
"No." Henry retorted sharply, prompting the young Constable in red to furrow his brows at him. "I don't need your help, and I won't be staying here."
"Stop being a child, Henry. I know you're upset with me and you've every right to be but at least compromise for one night!" Thomas began to lose his patience; he'd been working all day, drove two hours to get Henry to Milbury, and at this point was absolutely knackered.
"Me!? I child?! How dare you! You're the one who broke into my room and went through my things!" Henry angrily scoffed at Thomas, watching victoriously as the fair haired man lowered his gaze in shame.
Henry smirked menacingly as he turned on his heels and reached down to open the tent's door flaps.
"Where are you going?" Asked Thomas curiously; watching wearily as the raven haired boy turned to glare at him.
"I'm going home. Henry said sassily as he turned around once again to make his dramatic exit.
"Don't be ridiculous! Fir Creek is miles away, how'd you reckon you'll get there!?" Thomas chuckled humourlessly in complete and utter disbelief.
"I have fully functioning feet, I have a coat. So I shan't be needing your help, thank you very much." Henry seethed with rage.
"The coat is mine, so technically, you will get there with my help whether you like it or not." Smirked Thomas, rolling his eyes at Henry's immaturity.
"Well then." Henry challenged with a cocked brow. "Here's your bloody coat." He slipped it off and chucked it at Thomas discourteously, wiping the smirk clear off the handsome blond's smug face. "I'll see you back in Fir Creek, Constable." He said and dramatically left the tent leaving Thomas in a state of awe mixed with a tinge of amusement.
"I'll see you in two minutes when you realise you're being a ridiculous petulant child!" Thomas yelled out tauntingly after him.
Henry stomped away in a fit of rage, not even realising that he'd left his toque and gloves in the tent; Henry was many things, and stubborn was the root from which most of them stemmed. He loved one thing more than anything, and that was proving people wrong and refusing to let anyone else be right. Though in most situations this persistent stubbornness worked to be in his favour, on this night perhaps it'd be his undoing.
Thomas groaned to himself, sitting himself down on the tent's canvas floor and tugging frustratedly at a fistful of his straight blond hair. Words couldn't've explained how overjoyed he was when he read that Henry felt the same way about him as he did; it was like every dream he'd had since he'd met Henry had come true. But like every other dream, he was forced to wake up when Henry walked in to find him in his room going through his things.
It wasn't that Thomas didn't understand or acknowledge that he'd done wrong; quite the contrary, he knew what he was doing went against everything he'd been taught as a Mountie. He'd broken the trust of someone he was meant to protect, broken the laws that he was meant to uphold by searching a room without a warrant. But he wasn't thinking as a Mountie at that time; he was thinking as a friend who'd placed his trust in someone who he had reason to believe wasn't being completely honest with him. He was thinking as the father of children, into whose life he'd introduced a new friend whom it turned out he didn't truly know.
A part of him knew that there wasn't true cause for him to think Henry to be a threat to his family and their wellbeing; but his few run-ins with criminals and the sort left him knowing that one can't truly trust anyone. It often is exactly as they say. 'not as it seems'.
Thomas groaned as he glanced up, raising his hands out of his palms as he stared through the strands of blond hair that'd fallen into his eyes. He felt a pain in the depths of his gut he stared at his own fur lined coat, haphazardly strewn onto the canvas floor below; he noted the fashionable black wool toque and gloves that Henry had been wearing was also on the floor, meaning that Henry was wandering about in the cold with neither a coat nor anything to protect his head from the frigid unforgiving Canadian winter wind.
"I give it two minutes, tops." Thomas muttered bitterly, a part of him blaming himself while the rest of him blamed Henry for being so stubbornly self destructive in that moment.
But two minutes turned to five, and soon ten; Thomas went from being annoyed, to concerned, to overwhelmed with panic. Where was Henry? What if something had happened to him? How was he out for that long with merely a tweed suit coat and trousers?
He hastily ignited a match to light the lantern he had, shuffling out the tent and glancing around with bated breaths in hopes he'd see the handsome young doctor sitting stubbornly by Trooper or by the now entirely extinguished fire. But much to his disappointment Henry was nowhere in sight.
"Henry!" Thomas called out with all his might; his voice seeming to be absorbed by the snowy evergreen boughs and the lightly dusted ground under the trees. "Henry!" He called out again praying for an answer, but once again... silence.
Thomas ran aimlessly, his senses heightened and his eyes sharply on the lookout for the young raven haired lad; though seconds turned to minutes, to Thomas it felt as though time was ticking painfully slow. Adrenaline coursing thorough his veins, Thomas ran through the dense wood with laboured breaths and tears pooling in his eyes as he felt the hope genuinely fleeting like time itself; and yet still Henry was nowhere to be found.
"Henry!" Thomas yelled at the top of his lungs, running his hands over his face and clasping them over his mouth as he glanced around wide eyed in hopes he'd see Henry. If Henry made it far, he wound't be able to withstand the freezing temperature. If Henry didn't get warmth soon, he might not survive the night.
And that was the moment, out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw something; in the distance he saw a small dark figure huddled under a tree seeking refuge from the snow. The figure was motionless, hunched over lifelessly with his knees tucked into his body for warmth; trying and failing to shield his body away from what the cold.
"Henry!" Thomas called out as he stepped towards the indistinguishable figure, his snow crunching against the snow on the ground as shook his head to insure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. "Henry..." He whispered before he took off running, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw a very pale and partially conscious Henry shivering like an autumn leaf about to fall off the tree.
"Henry! Henry!" Thomas crashed next to Henry, lifting the boy's limp head up and pushing the dark hair out from his face. "God, Henry..." Thomas felt his heart crack in his chest as he saw how pale he looked, the slightest tinge of blue on his lips which wasn't a good sign. "Henry, bud, can you hear me?" He asked, feeling relief to hear the boy groan and slur words that were indecipherable. Again, this wasn't a good sign, but it meant he was responsive; it was likely hypothermia, albeit mild... For now...
"Henry, hey, Henry." Thomas lightly slapped the boy's cheeks to wake him, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as Henry groggily blinked his eyes open; they were dull and lacked their usual lustre, but at least they were very much conscious and for that Thomas was thankful; for now...
"Henry, can you stay with me? Keep your eyes open. Just stay with me, okay?" Thomas unbuttoned his own fur lined coat, scooping Henry up bridal style and bring to cover him with it's warm fur as best as he could. "Henry, are you good, bud? You okay?" He bounced Henry in his arms to try and keep him awake; he glanced around letting out a huff plotting his next move.
Thomas rushed back towards their campsite, trying to talk to Henry and keep him engaged and awake. Mountie training had given Thomas a basic overview of recognising and helping patients with hypothermia who had been rescued and extracted from the cold or a frozen lake, but this was the first time he'd found the need to physically implement any of those skills.
"Alright, here we are." Thomas hastily carried the shivering boy into the tent and set him down onto the sleeping bag, turning around to shut the door flaps and keep the chilly wind out of the tent. He turned around, wincing empathetically at the hearth wrenching sight of Henry shivering violently with rapid and shallow respirations.
"Alright. I need to take your clothes off, is that okay?" Thomas asked softly, watching as Henry's eyes pooled with tears, shaking his head and barely eyeing out the word 'No'. "Henry, you know I have to. P-please! You can go back to hating me tomorrow, but let me do this!" Pleaded Thomas, his voice cracking from the pressure, frustration, and cold night air. Henry closed his eyes as his body continued to violently shake; he knew what Thomas was doing. At the time skin-to-skin contact was widely considered to be the fastest and most efficient way to transfer heat to a mild hyperthermia patient, though with time that'd come to be disputed by medical professionals.
"Y-you w-won't w-want t-t-to i-if y-you k-knew w-w-what I-I a-am.." Stammered Henry, his eyes glazing over as his body gradually started to succumb. "Y-you w-won't-"
"Stop." Thomas knelt down over him, looking him in the eyes as he reached over to stroke Henry's icy cold cheek. "I read your diary, Henry... I know what you are..."
"A-and y-you're n-not d-d-disgusted?" Henry stammered shakily, his hyperventilation seeming to get worse.
"How could I be..." Thomas said with a soft whisper and a twinkle of vulnerability clear in his deep amber eyes. "How could I be disgusted... when I feel the same way about you..."
Henry gasped, his hazy blue eyes scanning Thomas wondering if this wall was a cruel dream that'd he'd wake up from. He shakily reached his hands towards the buttons of his tweed suit jacket, fumbling with the button to try and get it off himself; though his involuntary shivering was far too violent to do the job.
"May I?" Thomas laid his hand on Henry's, watching as the dark haired boy nodded to give him permission. Thomas hastily unbuttoned each and ever article of clothing Henry had; rending him only in his underpants as he tucked him safely inside the warm fur lined sleeping bag. Without wasting any time, Thomas himself disrobed down to his underpants, throwing both their fur lined coats and whatever else he had on top of the sleeping bag for added reinforcements. He climbed in himself and got on top of Henry, allowing his body to engulf around Henry's to, in theory, transfer his body heat.
Thomas rubbed his hand up and down Henry's torso and midsection; he was taught to warm the trunk, then move out towards the extremeties as warming the extremities first could cause cardiac arrest by moving blood away from the heart. Henry shivered and shook violently under Thomas body, all the while Thomas pulled one of the fur coats over their heads to create a little furry bubble of warmth.
"Shhh... Shhh... I'm here... I'm right here..." Thomas whispered as his strong manly hand reached up to caress Henry's icy cold cheek and slender neck. "You're going to be alright... It's all... going to be alright... Just stay with me, okay?" He cooed softly, earning him a hum and a nod from the dark haired boy.
"Good boy." Thomas whispered, his hands working up and down Henry's exposed soft skin to create enough friction to warm him up. "Stay awake for me, can you do that?"
"P-please d-don't l-leave m-me..." Henry stammered, his shivering significantly better than before though they had a ways to go before Henry was in the clear.
"Shh... Shh... I'm not going anywhere..." Thomas whispered into Henry's ear, snaking his arms around Henry's waist and holding his cold body tight against his. "And I can promise you that..."