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Gary “Eggsy” Unwin has never been one to stand still.
In fact, he had always proved himself incapable of staying out of trouble in his teenage years, which made him his mother’s most lovely headache. But that is all in the past, is it not? He is now 25 years old and employed full-time at a tailor’s shop - as far as his mother is concerned, that is.
But, as stated above, he is not one to stand still. After saving 90% of the human population and slaying megalomaniac Richmond Valentine and his henchmen, all following missions seemed to lack substance and even his secret relationship with a certain swedish Princess was only worth a few casual encounters, as it had been nothing but a fling between two youths in adrenaline-packed circumstances.
He is often bored.
At least, that is the image he struggles to convey.
Of course, Merlin is not fooled. Neither is Roxy, for that matter. However, they both agree to leave him be.
Thus, Eggsy is often found alone in his mentor’s study, gazing upon newspaper headlines - painfully dull when compared to truly significant events occurred in the respective days in which they had been printed. He paces the room slowly, traces the old record player’s buttons until it lights up and fills the room with Chopin’s Nocturnes. Eggsy is not a particular fan of the composition, but anything that can fill the overwhelming silence in the room is welcome. He proceeds to sigh and sit at Harry’s desk, which he knows is now his own, having received the codename ‘Galahad’ upon his death.
The desk doesn’t feel his.
He carefully probes the furniture’s drawers, urging to find something he might have missed in his previous searches, something that might teach him an aspect of his mentor that he did not know before, something that might point him in the right direction; only to find each item exactly where he had left it, untouched, unwilling to share any information with him.
There are neat stacks of newspapers and documents on the wooden tabletop, and he has read them so many times already that he can almost recite them by memory. He brings the papers close to his face, inhaling the typewriter ink mixed with the hint of quality brandy and amber he knows was part of Harry’s own scent.
Eggsy takes his glasses off and sighs once more. His mother and sister are taken care of and safe, which had always been his primary goal, but the feeling of emptiness never leaves him.
He can’t bear to consider the study his own, and yet he feels it as his only refuge. He rubs his face and puts his glasses back on, tapping the frame to open the intercom frequency.
“I’m ready for dispatch.”
He moves on to his next mission.
***
Gary “Eggsy” Unwin has stopped counting the days since his mentor’s death. He specifically asked not to know any details on his remains, on his funeral ceremonies, or on anything pertaining the church in Kentucky in front of which Harry Hart’s skull has been pierced.
He greets Merlin with witty remarks and pats Roxy’s shoulder wearing a lopsided smile, but his eyebrows are tense. He jokes about his ‘Bond Girls’, never missing a chance to praise his skills in the bedroom, earning mocking remarks from his colleagues.
He pokes little Dee’s nose as she sits on his lap in the living room, facing the fireplace with a glass of whisky in his hand. He compliments his mother Michelle’s new outfit, basking in her smile as she talks about the beautiful dress she has seen in the boutique, and how she is uncertain of whether to buy it in dark blue or white.
He takes JB for long walks at the park, throwing his favourite chew toy along the grass and watching him stumble and run to fetch it, returning proudly with more saliva in his mouth than actual chew toy.
The days start and end slowly when he is in London, becoming fast-paced as he is called to HQ and picks new weapons, new accessories, and reviews the details of his missions. He is reckless, almost too reckless, as if his life means nothing to him, important only enough to make sure the objective is complete and his mission securely dealt with.
Roxy finds it progressively harder to stay silent, knowing his bravery to be nothing more but an excuse to be closer to death. Closer to Harry. But that, she also knows, is something Eggsy will never admit to himself, much less to her.
Merlin scolds him, but the shadow behind Eggsy’s eyes leaves him powerless to insist, and he settles with hoping his training keeps one of Kingman’s most brilliant agents alive.
Grief takes many forms, and Eggsy’s has cloaked itself in a complex pas-de-deux between death and cockiness.
***
“Galahad”
“I’m here.” Eggsy leans back on the chair, upset at having his personal time in Harry’s study interrupted by the intercom.
“I need to speak with you.” Merlin’s voice seems even more serious than usual, leaving Eggsy jittery enough to snap out of it. “I need you to be here as soon as possible.”
“On my way.”
He quickly puts on his jacket and leaves, kissing his mother’s cheek goodbye and leaving her wondering what on Earth could ever constitute an emergency in tailor shop terms.
He finds a stone-faced Merlin standing beside a very stiff Roxy, who shifts uncomfortably in a clear display of anxiety. Eggsy’s face tenses and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Merlin.”
“Eggsy.”
“This isn’t normal, mate. What's going on?”
“Harry is dead.”
“No shit. It’s been two years.” He grits his teeth, feeling like he's been slapped in the face.
“For the past two years he has been kept under our observation, brain dead.”
“What.”
“He didn’t present brain waves in our scans, but he kept breathing.”
“So what the fuck do you want me to do? Do you need my permission to shut down the machines?”
“Eggsy.”
“No, no "Eggsy". You’re fucking with my head right now? After all this time?" He turns his eyes to his friend, filled with rage. "Did you know about this, Roxy?”
“Lancelot was fully aware the entire time. We spoke nothing of it. As you asked.”
“Well that’s priceless, i'nnit? It’s five o-fuckin’-clock and you invite me over for tea to break a promise?”
“Eggsy…” Roxy’s voice was barely audible.
“Is this some kind of joke? Are you enjoying this, Rox?”
“Eggsy.”
“No. Fuck that.”
“Harry woke up.”