Chapter Text
He’s woken up in his fair share of hospital rooms, given his penchant for causing trouble and getting into fights.
Eggsy knows the drill: the confusion, the too bright lights, that god awful inclined angle that hospital beds are preset to, the aching of fresh bruises and still bleeding cuts, the compulsion to slip away unnoticed. While he wants to do the latter more than anything, the young man finds that his entire body feels weighed down. It hurts to move, even more so when his dress shirt and trousers brush against his skin.
“Eggsy?” Roxy calls softly. Her voice is followed by her hand against his cheek, cool and comforting. Her perfume wafts around them, a pleasant mixture of florals and sandalwood.
He must try to move because Roxy is pushing him back down, without much effort as it seems. He is still disoriented and has a difficult time keeping his eyes open for longer than a few seconds. “Where?” Eggsy croaks.
Even swallowing takes effort.
“You’re in the hospital,” she answers. “You fainted at the theater and I phoned it in.”
Eggsy looks at her, eyes wide. “Phoned it in?” he questions. “Phoned it into who?”
“Who do you think?” Roxy intones harshly. “I couldn’t allow you to go to just any hospital, you daft cow!”
“If you’re already insulting me, it can’t be too serious,” Eggsy says dismissively as he tries to sit up. Roxy pushes him back, shaking her head. “What the hell, Rox?”
Her expression is unmoving. “No, you’re staying put,” she tells him, gesturing to the IV embedded into the top of his hand. She reaches for the call button and presses down. “Dr. Hanover wants to look you over and Arthur is here.”
“What?” Eggsy squawks angrily. “Why?”
“Lancelot,” Arthur cuts in from the doorway before walking inside of the hospital room. “Thank you so much for notifying us that Galahad has woken. How are you feeling, young man?”
His jaw clicks shut and he shrugs, trying not to give too much away. “Alright, I guess,” Eggsy tells her. “I would like to get this thing out of my arm and sleep in my own bed.”
“We will have to follow Dr. Hanover’s recommendations in regards to whether you can return home this evening,” Arthur states in a tone that leaves absolutely no room for argument.
Eggsy fidgets against the mattress and nods, noticing how Merlin sneaks in with Dr. Hanover. “It seems like we’re havin’ a party in here, innit?” he tries to joke as the doctor shuts the door behind them.
“Quite the opposite,” Dr. Hanover grouses.
Eggsy cranes his head, frowning as he snaps, “It’s a fucking joke. You’ve heard of ‘em, yeah?”
“I am going to allow that remark to slide even the fact that you have had a rough evening,” Arthur says with an icy stare. “Now, Galahad, can you explain to me why you accosted a man and insisted that he was Harry Hart?”
A cold feeling rushes over his body as if he was dunked into ice water. It begins in his chest and expands outwards towards his extremities until Eggsy feels a shiver down his spine. “Who told you that?” he chokes.
“It doesn’t matter who told me, young man,” Arthur replies. “Answer the question.”
Eggsy shakes his head, feeling his lips quiver. “You’re mistaken.”
“Lancelot,” Arthur calls, turning her head to glance at Roxy, who stiffens at being addressed. “Did Galahad refer to a stranger as Harry Hart, this evening?”
She looks at Eggsy, clearly struggling between covering for her best friend and her duties as a Kingsman. “He hasn’t been sleeping well,” Roxy explains, stammering. “It is my belief that Galahad was overtired.”
“I want an answer, not an excuse, young lady,” Arthur counters, causing the young woman to wilt in her presence.
Roxy nods nervously because even she knows not to give lip service to Arthur. “Yes, ma’am,” she finally says. “He did.”
“At least one of you isn’t lying,” their superior grouses as she turns back to Eggsy. “Now that is out of the way, perhaps you would like to tell me how it is that Harry Hart’s DNA was found in your swab samples.”
Arthur’s words punch the young man in the gut, sending precious oxygen rushing through his nose and mouth, leaving him dizzy. Eggsy takes in a drag of air as his fists clench the linens on the hospital bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, deliberately.
“Eggsy,” Merlin intones, stepping towards the bed. He looks sincere upon his approach and is holding an iPad in his hand as if it was just another part of him. “You don’t need to be frightened. Just tell us what happened…what you remember.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re goin’ on about! Harry Hart’s dead; we both saw Valentine shoot him,” Eggsy bellows accusingly at Merlin, lunging on the mattress only to have Arthur hold him back. A momentary lapse of surprise of her strength astonishes him before he remembers what’s happening. “And I told you lot everything I know about Russia, so lay the fuck off!”
“Eggsy,” Merlin repeats, louder this time as he comes closer. “I ran a search through the database and saw the results myself.” He sighs while Eggsy shakes his head feverishly. “What really happened in Russia?”
He recalls standing on the lawn of Harry’s home, pressing his palms into his eyes as tears seep out of them. You could have told me, Eggsy had said, sniffling. I wouldn’t have said a word to no one.
Harry, damn him, had gotten a lost puppy expression on his face, highlighted by the sun above them. He nodded and whispered so softly that Eggsy hadn’t dared to ask him to repeat it. I know.
I know.
Two words that are so simple, yet hold so much meaning.
Harry had entrusted Eggsy with his secret, taking a risk that could have been the end of him, and revealed himself to be alive.
Eggsy wasn’t going to break that; not for Kingsman, not for anyone. He would hold it close to his heart and never discard, even if Harry had done that to him and done it so easily.
Torment comes to him in stinging tears. Eggsy sets his jaw and shakes his head, adamant not to reveal his secret.
Their secret.
“Harry’s dead,” he repeats, his voice hollow to his own ears.
Merlin grabs him by the shoulders, giving Eggsy a good, firm shake. “Harry isn’t dead,” he argues. “Don’t lie to me just to protect him.”
“Harry Hart is dead,” Eggsy snaps, each word like a blow with his fists. “And dead men can’t lie, yeah?”
The older man frowns, turning his eyes into a fathomless sea of darkness. His fingers dig into Eggsy’s shirt, pinching the skin underneath. “I know what happened,” Merlin states. “He was the one who got you out of the JACKAL compound and sent us that message. The encrypted one telling us that you were safe and no harm would come to you.”
“No,” Eggsy whispers, lowering his head.
Merlin tugs at him and their eyes meet. “He tended to your wounds and nursed you back to health,” he continues, calmly. “Am I right, Eggsy? That house you were found in belonged to Harry. He was with you the entire time you were recovering. He removed and disabled your tracker, didn’t he?”
“No!” the young man shouts, pushing against Merlin’s grasp. “Fuck you! Get off me!”
“He revealed himself to you,” Merlin says over Eggsy, his voice trembling with desperation. “He told you what happened to him after Kentucky and left you when he realized that you were well enough to go home. But something between you two and then he abandoned you.” He ignores the sob that escapes from the younger man. “Harry knew that you would keep his secret and that he didn’t have to worry. Am I right, Eggsy?”
Eggsy finds it hard to breathe as Merlin relays the events in Russia without missing a beat. He claws at the man’s arms as his head shakes until he’s sure it will fall off. “Harry Hart is dead,” Eggsy sobs, shoving Merlin away from him.
He leaps off the hospital bed, tearing the IV from his hand with the sudden movement, and tries to get to the door. To Eggsy’s astonishment, it swings open to reveal two orderlies who grab him by the arms and haul him back to the bed, kicking and screaming. “I hate you!” he screams as he’s thrown face first onto the mattress. “I hate all of you! Fuck you and your fuckin’ knights! Get the fuck off me!”
Dr. Hanover approaches him, holding a needle and syringe, and motions his head to one of his staff. Eggsy’s sleeve is rolled up, exposing his bicep. “You will feel a pinch, Galahad,” the doctor assures, not bothering to look the young man in the eye. “But it won’t hurt much.”
“I won’t tell you a fuckin’ thing!” Eggsy spews, struggling to move. “You can drug me with whatever you want, but I won’t tell you a fuckin’ thing!”
The needle sinks into his flesh like a knife to butter and the contents are pushed through to his body before Dr. Hanover removes it.
“Fuck you!” Eggsy continues shouting, ignoring the bitter taste that lies on his tongue. His face is wet with tears and he can’t seem to stop crying, even as he breaks free of the orderlies’ grasp. He turns upon his heel and falls gracelessly to the floor. “I’ll kill all of you. After you’re done with me, I’ll kill each and every one of you.”
Roxy’s face appears above his own, framed by darkness that is rapidly swallowing his vision. “Eggsy, just calm down,” she pleads, placing his head in her lap. Her fingers are in his hair, brushing it off his face. “It’s going to be fine, you’re just tired is all. You don’t know what’s you’re saying.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t tell,” Eggsy cries. “Roxy…I swore I wouldn’t.”
She hushes him. “And you didn’t,” Roxy insists. “It’s okay now.”
“He left me, Rox,” Eggsy whimpers. “Harry left.” The familiar pull of becoming faint has returned, though he is starting to suspect that whatever was in that syringe was a sedative. “Why did he leave me? What did I do wrong?”
If Roxy answers him, he doesn’t hear it as his own voice is the last thing Eggsy hears.
“So what do we do now?” Arthur inquires sometime later.
She and Merlin are standing in Eggsy’s hospital room, which is now silent save for the sounds of medical equipment and murmur of his mother’s voice as she whispers to him. Roxy had phoned Michelle Unwin as soon as the excitement had ended and was now at their home, watching the lad’s little sister.
What Dr. Hanover told her, Merlin will never know, but it seems to pacify her questions as to why her son is in the hospital. Michelle holds Eggsy’s hand in both of hers and kisses his knuckles when she isn’t speaking to him.
As for the young man, he has been changed into a hospital gown and tucked under layers of blankets to keep him comfortable as he rests. His clothing has been taken away and stored somewhere until Eggsy is discharged.
If they can even discharge him.
“Hamish,” Arthur intones, worried.
Merlin shakes his head, surprised to hear his given name. “Yes, pardon?”
“What will we do now?” she asks, gesturing to Eggsy. “Do we send a task force to bring Harry in? Give Galahad extended paid leave and force him to see one of our psychiatrists? I’m afraid that I am at a loss…”
He nods in understanding, turning his gaze back to the young man in question. “There’s only one thing we can really do,” Merlin sighs as he unfolds his iPad cover and turns the device on. He goes to the messaging system he created and hopes that Harry had the foresight to retain his own access to emergencies.
Knowing his old friend, that iPad stored amongst his belongings is a duplicate.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asks.
Merlin types a message with a trembling finger, hoping that the words are enough. “Bringing Harry home,” he replies, as he hits the last letter to his communique and sends it off.
Eggsy needs you, it reads.
Ten hours later, Merlin finds the recipient standing in his living room.