Work Text:
“So,” Eggsy said, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the Infirmary room, “Someone gonna tell me what we’re doing here?
He sat on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs back and forth as he looked at each of them in turn. Roxy had taken the chair by the side of him; back straight, knees together, face impassive as she stared at the wall opposite. It was the biggest giveaway that she was worried, which didn’t do much for Eggsy’s state of mind if he was being honest. Harry had taken up his position by the door, looking the very picture of nonchalance despite his sharp eyes following the lone Medic around the room. Eggsy did his best not to wince when he thought back to the conversation they’d had in Dressing Room 1, hands balled awkwardly in his pockets as the lift started its descent.
“Are we gonna talk-?”
“No.”
One word was enough and he thanked god that the shuttle was quicker than the lift.
It was Merlin, turning his attention from the large screen on the wall, who finally answered him.
“Harry’s already filled you in on the identity of your target, so we’ll waste no time going over it again.”
“The Chemist, fuckin’ nutter, gave me something that makes me go mental when I remember him.” Eggsy summised.
Merlin nodded, “Essentially, yes. His first kill in ‘99 earned him the top spot on every major Most Wanted list; CIA, Interpol, MI5, FBI - you name it, he’s on it. So far no-one has been able to get close enough to take him down and live to tell the tale.” Merlin paused, brown eyes boring into his own, “Except for you.”
“We tracked you to a cut-through street 100 yards east of the club after you left with him,” Harry continued, finally moving from the door. Using a data clipboard he cast the image of a map onto the big screen, complete with flashing red dot that Eggsy assumed was him. “You were there for three minutes and twenty eight seconds. You moved back to the main street again and then we lose the signal.” Eggsy watched the dot move, then disappear completely. “We can only assume at that point you were put into a car and taken to the apartments where we eventually found you four hours and seventeen minutes later after Merlin reconnected the feed.”
Eggsy accepted the information, let his brain make the connections. “You need to know what happened in those four hours and seventeen minutes.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head, “That’s great, an’ all, but I can’t tell you jack shit without my head exploding, so unless you’ve got another source you’re a bit fucked.”
“Which brings us to why we’re here,” Merlin said, waving the Medic forward, “Daniel.”
The man who stepped forward was tall and thin with bright blue eyes and a grim smile that did nothing to reassure Eggsy of what was coming. “Sir,” he acknowledged Merlin before giving Eggsy his full attention, “We’ve been working around the clock to find the exact composition of the drug he injected you with, but everything we have tried has been ineffective at best. The Chemist’s work is renowned. It’s too complex to untangle and, quite frankly, too advanced for us to try.”
Eggsy arched an eyebrow, “Not exactly givin’ me hope, here.”
Daniel gave a lopsided smile. “Apologies. My point is that through copious testing we think we’ve managed to find something. We synthesized it from the toxins in your blood, but... “ he trailed off, glanced around at all of them, “Well. It’s not a cure. We’re not entirely certain how effective it will be until we use it, and then you have to consider the potential risks involved.”
“Risks?” Roxy stood then, moving closer to Eggsy’s side.
He nodded, “Trial evidence suggests that it would allow you to access the memories hidden by the Inhibitors without killing you, but it’s likely to be… traumatic.”
Eggsy tilted his head back with a small, humourless laugh, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic.”
“Eggsy.” Harry waited until Eggsy had lifted his head, until he was certain he was paying attention, before continuing, “I wouldn’t be asking this of you if there was another way.”
And that was it. That was all Harry needed to say, because Eggsy knew it was true. It was there in that carefully blank face and in the eyes he couldn’t quite mask; that truth and that question.
Do you trust me?
Eggsy’s answer hadn’t changed in the 24 hours since he’d first asked. Yes.
So he nodded, cleared his throat, and forced himself to stop looking at the older man in case he said something stupid. “Yeah. Alrigh’.”
Merlin patted him on the shoulder and moved aside to let the medic through, taking the clipboard from Harry as did so. “We’re going to be hooking you up to some equipment, monitoring you throughout the process. We’ll also be recording you.”
“Fun,” Eggsy muttered, stripping off his t-shirt to allow Daniel to attach sticky pads to his chest, followed by two more at his temples. Nerves fluttered in his stomach when Daniel showed him the pressure syringe, but he tilted his head to allow him more room anyway, knowing there was no going back. He felt the cold swab across the injection site a scant second before the soft hiss and sting indicated it was done.
“It could take anything from sixty seconds to five minutes for the drug to take full effect,” the medic said, stepping back and placing the used syringe in a yellow bio-hazard bag that he placed carefully inside a sealed tube. Merlin offered his clipboard to the medic without a word and Eggsy watched as his vitals appeared. Green zig-zags crawled across the screen in what Eggsy assumed was his brain activity while his heart rate was measured in beats per minute in the bottom corner. He wasn’t an expert when it came to these things but everything seemed normal, and he wasn’t feeling any different.
“So how is this gonna to work, then?” He asked after a few moments of silence, glancing at Merlin, and then at Harry, who was concentrating on his own data pad and not even looking at him, “You askin’ me questions or something?”
Merlin watched him carefully, “As we’re unsure of how things will progress, we thought it better to let the memories surface on their own. We’ll leave questions for now, but it would be helpful if you could tell us what you remember when you remember it, in as much detail as possible.”
Eggsy nodded silently. Roxy rubbed his arm gently and he smiled, bumped her shoulder in an automatic, thoughtless gesture, but when he saw the naked worry in her eyes his smile faded. He sighed, reached over to pat her hand, “C’mon, Rox, it’s gonn-”
Black dress, bare legs, calling himself Charlie to make her smile.
The memory was a sudden burst across his mind, flaring bright and sharp against the black void and with enough force to make him gasp. It was a crystal clear picture of Roxy, walking up to him at the bar, blowing him off when he tried to make a play for the sake of appearances. Whisky burned his tongue and the smell of grapefruit teased his nose and it was all so clear that it could have been happening all over again in that very room.
“Eggsy?”
Blinking away the image, he acknowledged his name with a nod, “Yeah. ‘m good. Just remembering. We were at the bar, Roxy was supposed to seduce him, right?” He couldn’t help but smirk a little at the woman beside him, teasing her with, “You looked well fit.” He counted it as a win when the worry in her eyes lessened with the expected eyeroll.
“While I’m glad you can appreciate the finer qualities of Lancelot’s attire, it would be better all round if you could tell us what happened after you left the club.” Harry offered almost coldly.
He frowned at the Harry’s back, “How can I concentrate on something I don’t remember?”
Wrists against the wall, tongue in his mouth, smoke rings. Eggsy coughed, shook his head, “Nevermind,” he said, swallowing thickly at the second burst. He glanced at his wrists as the phantom scratches ghosted over them, “Kissed me, when we got outside. Up against the wall. I musta’ lit up when I got out ‘cause he stole my fag.” Fingers digging into his hips, hitching his legs up more, pulling him in, making it look like he was desperate for it. He cleared his throat, “Um. I was playing him, making him think I wanted it. He wouldn’t tell me his name. Didn’t ask for mine either, so I guess he thought I was a real prozzy.”
“-when I found these in your pocket.” Glasses, shit, lie, lie, lie.
Eggsy frowned at that memory, rewinding it in his head, ignoring the soft throb of pain that followed, “Wait. He found my glasses.”
“When?”
He shook his head, “It’s… at the hotel? Apartment? It’s not comin’ in order. Prick tied me to a chair, I couldn’t get free. Good knots.”
Server collecting glasses, Rox wait! “He was checkin’ out the waiter’s arse,” He scoffed, reaching up to rub his head, “‘s why I told Rox to stop. That was back at the club. Shit.”
“Take your time,” Merlin said quietly, turning to the medic for an update, “Daniel?”
The man studied the data on the screen, “Everything looks good so far. Fluctuations, but then you expect that…”
Strong hand holding his jaw, bruising kisses, biting down and tasting blood. He could taste the copper-tang of it on his tongue and feel fingers gripping his hair, squeezing. A perfect image of his face crystalised in his mind; curling dark hair, narrow nose, blue eyes so pale they were almost grey. Thin lips curling into an indecently hungry smile. Fuck you until you screamed.
Eggsy hissed as the words echoed in his head, flinching when the soft throb turned into a stabbing pain behind his eye. The sound of his name on Harry’s lips, combined with the other man’s quick step forward, made something in his stomach flutter. “‘s fine.” He said, squinting up at the man, “Head-”
But he could barely get the word out before another memory surfaced, bringing with it another stab behind his eyes. Sorry didn’t see you there, thicken your accent, work him. And another. You’re an agent, fucking think, get out of this. And another. Hands around his throat, fists in his face, boots against his ribs again and again and again.
Two pairs of hands steadied him as he pitched forward, worried, urgent voices mixing with the echoes in his mind. He groaned softly as the stab became a hammer slam against his skull, “Aw fuck, fuck that hurts.”
“Eggsy?”
Disabled the locator, coding hard to crack. He groaned again, screwed his eyes shut against the pain blasting through his head. God I love the spirited ones. “Sick fuck, sick fuck.”
“Eggsy,” Harry said, his voice close and gentle and urgent, “Talk to me.”
“Knew I was an agent, goons kicked the shit out of me. Sick fuck wanted a piece of me, knew it, could fuckin’ see it in his face.” He shook his head, “Glasses, fucked the glasses, took out the locator. Bug sweepers in the car.”
“The car, do you remember the car?”
Sick, dizzy. Drugged.
Rough brick, bruised hips.
Quiet night before my flight tomorrow.
What’s a tart like you doing with glasses such as these?
The memories slammed into him, one after another, with the force of a speeding train, giving him no room to breathe and no option but to sit and take it. He cried out, body tense, shaking under the strain as each flash, each puzzle piece brought with it a new, blinding pain that hacked into his skull like an axe. “Drugged me,” he forced out between gritted teeth, “Fuck!” He reached blindly for his head but couldn’t decide if it was to tear it apart or hold it together. “Fuckin’ hurts!” Fingers digging into his scalp, short nails biting into sensitive skin, pulling at long strands, anything to detract from the pinball machine that was currently his head. But cool hands pulled them away quickly, holding both hands in a vice-like grip, keeping him from doing further damage to himself.
And it got worse with every new image, sound, scent. They assaulted him, taking him down a rabbit hole of chaos and panic. His world narrowed down to the red-wash of burning agony that slid torturously from his head down his spine. Someone was saying his name over and over again but he couldn’t tell who and he didn’t really care. The room was no longer his focus, the people no longer mattered. He didn’t hear the high beep of machines, the panicked voices around him, his own screams as his body contorted and arched and fought. Grey eyes bored holes into him, sharp teeth sank into his lip, bloody fists connected with his kidneys. Cool hands held him close and that usually warm voice grew cold and barked orders. Reality lines blurred and Eggsy didn’t care, he just wanted it to stop, make it stop, please fucking stop.
Someone must have answered his prayer because soon enough the torment ceased. Raging fire became a warm simmer and the echoes of pain rang softly in his head like a muffled bell, singing him to sleep. Sounds were jumbled, someone was talking to him, stroking his hair, but unconsciousness was waiting and Eggsy wasn’t about to resist. He let the darkness take him, willingly falling into its embrace with the soothing lub-lub of a heartbeat under his ear.