Inescapable History, Inescapable Fates

Can you make him not incapacitated?

Henry regretted not fighting with Pez on the living with Alex part of their plan when he returned to his dorm and found a half-naked girl wearing Alex's shirt and Alex puking his guts out in their bathroom. The girl was blonde, tall, and very, very drunk.

"Where are you from? Go back to your dorm." Henry told her, casting a worried glance towards the bathroom.

The girl walked suggestively towards him, nearly falling over her own feet in the process. "But we haven't finished yet." Henry looked at her, then at Alex.

"Get out of my room."

Once she left, he grabbed a glass and hand towel from his desk and joined Alex in the bathroom. He had stopped throwing up and was now huddled over himself, shaking and crying.

"Hey, wipe your mouth," Henry whispered, handing Alex the towel and trying to push the other boy's curly hair out of his eyes. This was wrong. Alex's hair was soft and beautiful and Henry needed to be putting distance between them. Instead, he leaned closer as Alex cleaned himself up. Alex was muttering,

"It hurts it hurts, everything hurts, I'm going to die,"

Henry pulled Alex into his chest. He smelled like weed and alcohol. So he was crossed. Fuck. A phone was ringing in their room. Henry ignored it, though he thought distantly that whoever was calling was probably worried about Alex. Henry remembered a year before throwing up antidepressants in an identical bathroom, thanking god his roommate was out partying. Alex didn't have his luck. Thank god.

Alex started whispering something unintelligible to Henry in Spanish.

"Quiero hogar llévame casa llévame casa llévame casa"

Henry carried him to his bed, and he passed out almost immediately. Then Henry noticed Alex's wallet and phone laying on the floor. If Alex was a spy, he was the worst spy on earth. But there was only one way to find out for sure. Henry made sure Alex was out cold and grabbed his wallet. Two hundred dollar bills, two twenties, and a wad of change. Weird but ok. An American Visa card. A photo of a boy who looked like a very young (maybe six-year-old) Alex, an older girl (his sister?), and their parents; the kids were playing on top of a cannon in front of a very official-looking building. Henry put the photo away. He shouldn't be snooping.

And then Alex's phone started to ring again. Henry tried to answer the call this time. The phone asked for Alex's passcode or fingerprint. Henry stared at the screen for a moment, then carefully untangled Alex's hand from his sheets. Henry held his breath as he carefully, carefully, pressed Alex's finger to the phone. As soon as he opened the phone, it stopped ringing. He opened Alex's call history to call them back. There was no call history. Henry opened contacts. There were no contacts. Henry opened text. There were no texts. Henry opened Signal, an encrypted text service used by journalists, activists, and criminals alike. It required multifactor authentication. Henry opened notes. There were no notes. Henry opened photos. There were no photos. The phone started ringing again and Henry answered immediately.

"Um... Hello? I'm umm... Alex's roommate." Henry mumbled awkwardly.

"Can you give the phone to Alex," A woman said,

Henry glanced at his roommate "He is erm... incapacitated at the moment,"

"I see. Can you make him not incapacitated?"

"I don't think so?" Henry said, then added, "He's safe though."

"You're Henry Fox, right?" Henry wasn't sure he should answer this question. Who even was this woman?

"Erm... Yes"

"Are you going to be his roommate?" She must be in charge. Of the operation. The spying operation. She sounded in charge. Christ.

"Umm Yes."

"Good. Tell Alex to call me back in the morning."

She sounded like she was hanging up and Henry suddenly shouted, "Oh um-"

"Yes?"

Henry wanted to make her recall Alex. He wanted her to understand that he knows what she and Alex are trying to do and it will not end well. He wanted to ask what the hell she thinks she's doing sending an untrained eighteen-year-old into the field.

"Just. Nothing. Ermmm. I think he misses home. He said that, I think... in Spanish,"

"Thank you, Henry." She said and hung up.