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crossoversfics · 4 years ago

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Boy Genius (Chapter 3)

(Spencer Reid x Malcolm Bright)

He had seen them arrive and when JT went over to greet the FBI agents Malcolm stayed put. Making nice with the agency just wasn’t on his to do list today. That did not, however, mean he hadn’t begun to profile their new coworkers the moment they showed up. It was less than a minute before JT was calling him over, but it was enough.

Malcolm turned and walked over to them, making sure to keep his micro expressions in check. In a matter of seconds he would learn whether these agents knew about him or not, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

JT introduced him, “Agents this is Malcolm Bright, NYPD profiler. Bright this is-.”

“Agent Morgan,” Malcolm stuck out his hand, and Morgan shook it firmly, “And Dr. Reid”. He did not extend his hand to the doctor, but nodded instead, to which the doctor replied with a small smile.

A sideways glance told him JT was confused, he sighed, “Detective, I’m not deaf, I heard your conversation when they arrived.”

The response was a massive eye roll from JT and a chuckle from Agent Morgan. So far so good. Neither of the agents had seem startled by his presence.

“All right, smart ass,” JT grunted, “Let’s get to work then.”

He led both agents over to the dump site with Malcolm following just behind.

“Both bodies were found lying in this hallway. It had been closed due to construction so that’s why the bodies hadn’t been found before we were called.” JT explained.

“Did the Unsub leave anything behind? Footprints, fingerprints, DNA?” Agent Morgan crouched looking up and down the hallway.

“Nothing that we have identified yet. What did you mean by Unsub?” JT inquired folding his arms.

“It means Unidentified Subject of the Investigation.” Dr. Reid said absently as he walked down the hall a bit, “Have we gotten anything from the CCTV footage?”

JT shook his head ruefully, “There was no footage. The techs said that the cameras had been disabled just before the phone call came into the station.”

Agent Morgan stood, “Surprise surprise, but all the same we should have it sent to our tech analyst Garcia. She might be able to make something of it.” He put his hands on his hips, “This hallway is a dead end, so the only way he could have dumped the bodies here was through the entrance we just came through. There would have been too many people.” He stopped and called out to Dr. Reid who had wandered down the hallway, “Hey, kid what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“Just a hunch.” The doctor replied.

“If you’re looking for the trapdoor it’s not above you,” Malcolm spoke after watching them for awhile. He made his way down the hall and gestured to the large tile squares beneath them, “Its below.”

He knelt down and ran his finger above the cracked sealant around one of the squares, “I haven’t pulled it up yet because the forensic team needs to go over it but I’m sure this is how he got in.”

“He most likely made the phone call from here too and then he could reconnect the cameras and watch us find the bodies.” Reid surmised looking down at him.

Malcolm nodded, “That was my thought as well.” He turned to JT and Morgan, “He spent a long time planning this.”

Neither of them replied. Malcolm swiveled back to Dr. Reid who was looking at him intently.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Malcolm felt his temperature rising, but the very next second he willed himself to remain completely calm, “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, doctor.”

Reid nodded slowly, his mouth slightly agape, “Yeah, sorry must just be my brain mixing you up with someone else.”

Malcolm forced himself to smile, “Not a problem.” He brought himself to a standing position and shoved his right hand in his pocket, “Is there anything else either of you would like to see?”

Agent Morgan shook his head, “I think we’re good for now, how about you, kid?”

“Yeah, all good here.” The doctor replied still glancing at Malcolm.

“All right then we’ll meet you guys back at the station.” JT said to Agent Morgan.

“Sounds good.” He replied.

Reid finished rereading the last of the case files they had on Dr. Arthur, and glanced at his watch. It had taken him thirty minutes and forty-six seconds which was a lot longer than it normally took him. His gaze drifted to the same thing it had been ever since they had arrived at the station. Or rather the same person.

“This is Malcolm Bright, NYPD profiler.”

Bright was sitting across from him going through his own stack of case files, seemingly absorbed in his work. Reid wasn’t sure what it was that bothered him about the man, but there was something, off. At first, he’d thought it was some sort of vanity on his part. It was overtly apparent that Bright was the NYPD’s darker, more worldly version of Reid. The way he read a crime scene without much more than a glance spoke of immense talent and he was clearly intelligent, probably more than he let on.

The more he thought about it, however, the more he didn’t think it could be all excused away by something as petty as jealousy. The one thing he was sure of, Bright did not care for the FBI. Reid had watched Bright bristle in a conversation with Rossi over why he hadn’t applied at the BAU. It was the smallest clench of his right fist that gave it away. There was something there...

“Dr. Reid?”

A voice floated past him and then echoed in his head as he realized someone was talking to him.

“Yes, sorry.” Reid blinked and his eyes focused in on Bright’s questioning expression.

“No problem. I just wasn’t sure you heard Dani say they got ID’s on the two victims.” Bright handed him another file.

“I did not, thank you.” Reid took the folder and opened it. Time to focus, he chastised himself. After he finished, he looked up to see see Bright eyeing him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve never actually met someone with an eidetic memory before. I’d imagine it would be very useful.”

Reid smiled slightly, “Yes, along with its fair share of drawbacks, and the statistics for an adult having an eidetic memory are-”

“Less than one percent,” Bright finished for him.

Reid pressed his lips together and nodded. He didn’t try to contain his surprise that Bright knew the statistics, instead he moved back to the case.

“Speaking of memory, all of the victims have a lot of background in research or the study of memories. All of them were highly educated, successful, and popular.” A thought struck him, “You know, early on in this case we theorized that Dr. Arthur wasn’t his actual name and that he was most likely not from the same pedigree as his victims.”

Bright nodded while he massaged his right hand, “That could lead to a couple of possibilities. He could have been undereducated or poor and he resents those of a higher social, educational, or economic status than him. The problem with that theory is all of these victims seem, specific. They don’t read like targets of opportunity.”

Reid agreed, “So he must stalk them then. In all cases, the victims weren’t missed for several days and that takes extensive planning.”

“Yes, but why?” Bright stood up and inspected the board, “There’s no criminal history, no dirty laundry in the families, and none of them are involved in any type of ground-breaking research or controversial studies. The last two, Tate Medford and Juan Santos, were still working on their PhD’s.”

Reid tapped his finger on the table as he thought, “The torture clearly makes him a sadist, and we established that he is a pyromaniac just based on his obsession with fire and explosions.”

“So its safe to say he was probably abused, probably by a male figure, a father maybe. I’d say an intelligent one too.” Bright mused.

“What makes you say that?”

Reid glanced over his shoulder and saw that Hotch, Lieutenant Gil, Detective Powell, and JJ had come in. It was JJ that had asked the question.

Bright was now facing them too, “Well, just based on the victims he chooses. They all scored in the thirty’s on the ACT or over 1100 on the SAT, they all went to Ivy league schools or were enrolled in one, salutatorians, valedictorians, debate team champs, editors of the school papers, top athletes, they had scholarships, and I could go on and on and on. It looks like he is obsessed with what society deems intelligent or smart.”

Reid licked his lips, “I agree. It all points to him being angry or at the very least needing a substitute for someone in his life that was very smart.”

“Well why does he need two of them then?” Detective Powell asked with a frown, “and then why does he just go bomb random buildings?”

“That’s the part that just doesn’t make any sense.” JJ replied, “You would think that if it was intelligence he was targeting then he would be bombing schools and museums, but its just old warehouses or apartments.”

The Lieutenant sighed, “I’d say there is a whole lot more that doesn’t make sense besides all that.”

A phone went off and everyone turned to look for the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from Bright.

He pulled out his device, glanced at the screen, and frowned, “Sorry, I have to take this.”

Reid noted a look that passed between Lieutenant Arroyo and Bright before he left the room but it was gone as quick as it appeared.

Hotch sat down in a chair next to Reid, “A bomb will be going off without warning any time now. If we want a chance at stopping it we need to complete this profile so the police know what they are looking for.”

Everyone nodded and got to work. As he started reading the file on the two new victims again he realized that the uncomfortable feeling he had about Bright had temporarily disappeared but that phone call had brought it back. He needed to know why.

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earlgreytea68 · 8 years ago

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Focus

For @kate2kat! Happy Valentine’s Day! Happy @eamesstupidcupid! (Now on AO3, too!)

Arthur had always had laser focus. When he had been a child, he had been single-minded in his pursuit of all objectives. Undistractable. Maybe it had been an issue in relationships, Arthur admitted. Maybe more than one ex had, on his or her way out the door, accused him of being unable to devote the proper time and attention to anything other than his job (and had accused him of being unbearable in his refusal to make anything other than his job his top priority). Arthur hadn’t cared about any of that. His laser focus had gotten him an early graduation from high school, a full ride to college, a dazzling career in government intelligence in which he’d had top security clearance, and then an equally dazzling career as an excellent, wily, most-wanted dream criminal, all before the age of thirty.

A relationship had never gotten him anything.

And then what happened was: Arthur met Eames. Eames, around whom Arthur’s storied laser focus absolutely, positively crumbled.

It was humiliating to him, but from the moment he’d met Eames, he’d been distracted. And it took nothing for Eames to accomplish it. Arthur was pretty sure that Eames had once successfully distracted Arthur by deciding to breathe too loudly. But, frustratingly, if Eames was there—in the room—on a job—in the same country—then Arthur was distracted, was thinking about him, was wondering about him, was hating him furiously.

Once they’d happened to be in the same airport, merely passing through, but Arthur had felt the weight of Eames’s presence tugging at him in the periphery, his focus on the next flight, the next gate, slipping, and then he had turned and Eames had been watching him, looking endlessly amused, because Eames probably knew very well what his effect on Arthur was.

Eames had convinced Arthur to have a drink with him during the layover. One drink turned into four as the snowstorm that had been threatening descended upon the city and flights were delayed and delayed some more. When, eventually, they had had to part ways, Arthur had found himself bewildered by how much time had passed and he had barely noticed. It had been like being in a dream, like the suspension of the normal functioning of time. If Arthur hadn’t known better, he would have thought Eames was a wizard.

Eames was a wizard in one respect, of course, and that was in his incredible talent to turn himself into someone else. Arthur tried not to be too open-mouthed in admiration of this, tried to pretend it didn’t impress him when Eames slipped in and out of personas in dreams. Arthur would have liked to do it himself, but he’d tried, and he was dismal at it. You’re no good at forgetting yourself, Mal had told him. You’re too focused on who you are.

Focused on who he was. That was Arthur to a T. Until he’d met Eames. And then he’d seemed to focus entirely on Eames.

Right now, at this moment, it was Eames’s fingernails Arthur was focusing on. They were long and red and one of them was tapping impatiently against the shiny lacquered hotel bar Arthur had dreamed up. Eames was half in forge mode and half out of it, his regular features with dark red lipstick and smoky eye makeup, his hands tipped by the fire engine red acrylic nails favored by the mark’s mistress, his body with a tight black cocktail dress sheathed around it. There was too much for Arthur to be distracted by in that package, so he was focusing on the fingernail tapping against the bar as they waited. The mark wasn’t behaving himself. The extractor was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to Arthur. Arthur was proving a point by refusing to help. Eames was waiting for the whole fuck-up to get itself sorted out.

Eames said abruptly, “Darling, what is it with you and hotel bars? Really?”

Arthur was startled by the question. He looked from Eames’s fingernails to his face. “Nothing,” he said. “The dream called for a hotel bar.”

“The dream called for a seductive assignation. When asked to design seductive assignations, you always go with ‘hotel bar.’ I always ask myself why that is.”

Arthur scowled. “Don’t play the psychologist. Hotel bars are easy to dream up. Generic. One looks like all the others.”

Eames ignored him, the way Eames did. “Do you have a lot of seductive assignations in hotel bars?”

“No,” snapped Arthur, even though he kind of did. When you didn’t really do relationships, and you traveled as much as Arthur did, mainly you met people in hotel bars.

Eames smirked like he knew how much Arthur was lying about and tapped his fingernail on the bar.

Arthur said, “Do you have to do that? It’s annoying.”

Eames stopped tapping, instead holding his hand up and studying the fingernail. “The thing about a fingernail like this is…” Eames frowned at it closely, then continued, “I’m sure it leaves the most vicious scratches down one’s back.” Eames looked innocently over at Arthur. “Do you think that’s the point?”

Arthur was not thinking about scratching his nails down Eames’s back. Or Eames scratching his nails down Arthur’s.

Arthur said, “Get rid of those fucking fingernails. They’re annoying.”

“You don’t like long red fingernails. Check. Tell me, darling: What do you like?”

“Focus,” Arthur said. “I like focus.”

Eames actually laughed at him. “You know, I don’t even think you’re lying about that,” he said fondly.

Arthur wanted to ask why he would be lying about that, except that’s when the dream started collapsing around them.

***

Months later, Arthur, packing up the PASIV after a job well done, was subjected to a young eager architect saying to him, “Hey, you’re friends with Eames, right?”

“No,” Arthur denied shortly.

“Oh,” said the architect, face falling. “I thought you knew him.”

“I know him. We’re not friends.”

“Whatever,” said the architect, like that was just semantics. “Did you hear what happened to the last job he did, out of Rio?”

Arthur’s movements slowed. “That job’s not done. They weren’t doing the extraction for another week.”

The architect gave him a look, like it was curious that Arthur knew that. “Well, while you were being fussy and checking to make sure everyone had come out of the Somnacin okay, I got a text from Joelle and she is pissed.” The architect held up the phone so Arthur could see.

Joelle was the extractor Eames had been working with. Arthur had met her only once, and been unimpressed. Her text to the architect was fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Arthur drew his eyebrows together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The architect shrugged. “Don’t know. Thought maybe you had heard from Eames about it. That’s why I was asking.”

“No,” Arthur said. “Eames is fine. No problems. Check your bank account, I’ll send the shares out as soon as I’m clear of the country.”

Arthur turned and walked out of the warehouse calmly, PASIV in hand, and pretended that his heart wasn’t pounding out of his chest. He got into his rental car and drove it away from the warehouse but he could barely focus on the traffic rules and instead he pulled over and texted Eames. You okay? It was an out-of-the-blue text, and Eames would probably have no idea what to make of it. Or Eames would know exactly what to make of it, which might almost be worse.

At any rate, Arthur got to the airport and got on his plane and tried not to worry about the fact that Eames hadn’t texted back. There was no need to worry about that. They were separated by multiple time zones. And it wasn’t like they really ever texted each other anyway. Eames was probably so bewildered he didn’t even know how to respond.

Arthur tried to focus on distributing the shares properly and almost sent three hundred thousand dollars to entirely the wrong bank account. The extractor would not have been pleased.

***

Arthur dragged himself to the hotel where he had planned to hide for the night and showered and crawled into bed and told himself to focus on falling asleep. There was no reason to be lying awake staring at the ceiling worrying about Eames. Just go to sleep, he told himself firmly.

And then, an hour later, Fuck it, and got out of bed and threw on jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs to the bar. Anything was better than lying in his bed worrying, like an idiot.

It was late, and the bar was mostly deserted. A couple practically sitting in each other’s laps was purring at each other over martinis at a corner table. A woman at the end of the bar looked up at him as he slid into the seat three seats down but went back to the book she was reading, apparently not interested.

Not that Arthur was looking for a seductive assignation.

The bartender was down near where the woman was, doing something with glasses. He said to Arthur, “Be right with you,” and went back to what he was doing.

Arthur leaned his head in his hands and pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed. Somewhere in the background the hotel was piping in nondescript piano music.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender.

Arthur lifted his head to answer.

Eames beat him to it. “He’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” Eames slid into the seat next to Arthur. “I’ll have a scotch, neat.”

The bartender looked at Arthur, probably to see if he consented to this choice of drink.

Arthur couldn’t consent to anything because he was too busy gaping at Eames, so the bartender eventually went away.

Eames looked at Arthur and smiled. He looked exhausted, and the smile looked like it took the last vestiges of energy out of him. Arthur had the ridiculous impulsive desire to cuddle him close and tell him just to go to sleep.

“What the fuck,” Arthur said very eloquently.

“Indeed,” said Eames. “I could say the same to you.”

“Say the same to me? Why? What have I done that’s shocking? You’re fucking stalking me or something. How’d you know I was here?”

Eames held up his phone, where Arthur’s text sat on it.

“Nothing about that text told you which hotel I would be in tonight,” Arthur said. “Nothing about that text told you which city I would be in.”

“Darling,” said Eames tiredly. “As if I don’t know where you are at all times.” The bartender put Eames’s scotch down in front of him and Eames contemplated it. “At most times,” he amended, and took a sip.

“What happened on your job?” Arthur asked, ignoring that. “I heard bad things.”

“I thought you must have. I thought that was the reason behind your text. Joelle’s an imbecile.”

“I told you she was.”

Eames gave him a look. “You think everyone’s an imbecile, pet, I can hardly give credence to every one of your proclamations on that front.”

“Whatever,” said Arthur, as a dazzling comeback, into his glass of pinot noir.

Eames leaned his elbow on the bar, propped his head in his hand, regarded Arthur. “Were you worried about me?”

“No,” Arthur denied.

“Then why did you send that text?”

“I thought you might have some good gossip.”

Eames smiled. “And I know how much you love gossip, petal.”

“Why are you here?” asked Arthur. “You could have just texted me back, you know.” And then he wouldn’t have had to worry all flight.

“Darling.” Eames leaned forward. “Do you know what today is?”

“Tuesday,” said Arthur. “In this time zone.”

Eames chuckled. “No, I mean the date.”

“February 14,” said Arthur.

“Right,” Eames replied slowly, looking at him curiously. “Do you know what February 14 is?”

Arthur wondered wildly what Eames was talking about. “Is it your birthday?” he asked uncertainly.

“No. Darling. Honestly. Sometimes I just…It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh,” said Arthur. That made sense. That wasn’t a date that was ever really relevant in Arthur’s life. “Okay.”

Eames gave him a smile that made Arthur feel like he’d just downed a shot. His stomach went warm and tingly and his head swam a little bit. Eames said, “Alright, gorgeous, I can see I have to spell this out for you.” Eames suddenly turned Arthur’s chair so Arthur was facing him, put his hands familiarly on Arthur’s hips, like they’d been made for just that purpose, said, “I was wondering if you would like to be my valentine.”

Arthur stared at him, feeling oddly short of breath. He’d never been anyone’s valentine before. “What does that entail?” he asked.

Eames gave him a crooked smile. “Let’s start with sex.”

***

Afterward, Arthur lay on his back with Eames’s right hand caught between Arthur’s two hands, studying Eames’s fingers closely.

“Mmph,” Eames said into his pillow. “I got a manicure just for you. I know how you have strong opinions on fingernails.”

“I don’t,” Arthur said, but kissed the fingernail on Eames’s index finger anyway. Then he looked at Eames. “You got a manicure for me? You knew you were going to come and see me?”

Eames turned his head so Arthur could see him, smiled at him. “Eventually. Best to always be prepared. Then my job went all to hell, and you sent that text, and it was Valentine’s Day, and I knew where you were.”

“How’d you know I’d be in the hotel bar, though?” said Arthur.

“Lucky guess. It’s where you like to go for seductive assignations. And, I hoped, to worry tenderly over me.”

“Fuck you,” Arthur said, and shoved him playfully.

Eames laughed. “If you weren’t in the bar, I was going to pretend to be room service to get in here.”

“I probably would have shot you.”

“Probably,” Eames agreed.

“And what if I had had somebody in here with me?”

“Then I probably would have shot them,” said Eames, and rolled his way on top of Arthur.

Arthur let Eames’s weight slowly adjust over him, letting it press him into the mattress. He said, “Tell me what happened on the job with Joelle.”

“Now, darling,” said Eames, disentangling his hand from Arthur’s and putting it to good use. “That can wait until later. For now: focus.”

#kate2kat #eamesstupidcupid #inception #arthur x eames #long post

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my-one-love-is-music · 8 years ago

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These Wings Are Made to Fly Ch. 9

This is the second to last chapter of this fic. I feel like this story has come from a good place and will resolve appropriately in any case. But for now, enjoy the current update. ^.^

(Also I've been considering making a twitter as a place to give more frequent updates about my writing schedule or have a more casual place to interact with my readers so if that's something that you'd like, don't hesitate to let me know!)

Also on AO3!

The hours passed quickly in the Statesmen headquarters and Eggsy had used his time to get his things settled in the room that had been provided for him, which was much larger than he expected and not at all unwelcome. Abe had kept pretty close to him when they travelled down to the residential floor, but had left him to his own devices when he opened the door and passed over the key, telling him that he’d be waiting in the hallway if he needed anything.

Eggsy took the time to set his suitcase on the luggage rack provided and even went so far as to shower in the private bathroom which was more than he ever expected to get when he arrived. He did force himself to avoid lying down on the bed, because he knew that as soon as he did he would be asleep now that the exhaustion from his overnight flight and being awake all day was catching up to him.

He took the time to send a report back to Kingsman and confirm that he’d made it to Statesmen and was safely tucked away in their headquarters. He had just finished typing up the information about the lead that he’d gotten and sent that on when a knock came at the door.

“Yes?” he called, slipping his tablet back into his suitcase.

“Galahad, sir? We have a car ready for your departure to the hospital. The staff will be expecting you shortly,” Abe answered.

Eggsy grabbed his umbrella and the keys to his room and slipped out into the hallway. He locked the door quickly and pocketed the keys waiting for Abe to lead him to the car. He eyed his umbrella once before turning down the hallway without a word, long strides eating up the distance between him and the lift while Eggsy hurried to keep up.

The ride to the hospital was quiet, but thankfully short. As much information as the lessons at Kingsman had given him and prepared him to face any number of situations, it hadn’t taught him how to navigate the waters of awkward interactions with agents from other organizations. He’d have to suggest adding that to the curriculum for the new trials for Kingsman agents that Merlin would no doubt be holding soon.

Abe parked in a car park next to the large hospital and killed the engine. They walked out of the garage and over to the hospital entrance, passing through the doors easily.

“I’ll wait over here until you’re done. We’ve only received permission for you to go in and see him so they won’t let me pass.”

“Right,” Eggsy nodded. He watched as Abe made himself comfortable in one of the seats before making his way to the reception desk where a man gave him a kind smile.

“How may I help you?” he asked.

“Evening. My name is Frederick Jones and I’m here to see my father, Thomas Jones,” Eggsy said, hoping that he looked the part of a bashful and nervous son wanting to see his father and not a complete stranger who would immediately draw suspicion.

“Yes, yes! Let me just page the nurse who’s been assigned to take you back to his room. We’ve all been looking forward to you coming here. It’s not every day that we have such an interesting case. And with a foreigner no less!”

Eggsy felt relief flood his veins and returned the worker’s grin with a tentative smile of his own. The receptionist continued to talk on and Eggsy dutifully listened.

“Mr. Jones?” a woman spoke up at his elbow. He looked towards her and she held out her hand to direct him to a set of double doors. “If you’ll just come this way, I can take you to see your father.”

Eggsy nodded and followed her into the clean, well-kept hallways beyond.

“We were worried when he first arrived in the hospital and we had no way to contact the family, but were more than relieved when we received your request looking for your father. He’s been in relatively stable condition after the surgery and has healed up nicely so far, though it will take a bit more time before he’s fully recovered. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have had any memory problems and seems to have his wits about him like the trooper he is.”

She paused, handle on the doorknob of a row of identical doorways. Eggsy was thrumming with nervous energy and excitement. He was more than ready to get through that door and see if this person was actually Harry. His Harry. As much hope as the information the nurse had relayed had given him, he couldn’t let himself be convinced until he saw who was sitting in the bed beyond this pointless piece of wood.

“We made sure that he was roused before coming to fetch you so he should still be up and awake, but do try to be mindful of his injuries in that he is healing. I know that both of you are going to be quite excited to see each other.” She turned the knob and pushed the door open before stepping aside.

Eggsy couldn’t see who was in the bed beyond as he was faced with a short entryway and he took the time to close the door behind him so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, nearly collapsing with relief at the sight that he was greeted with. Harry was sitting there and had been watching him intently at first, scowl visible on his face, but fell away immediately as soon as he caught sight of Eggsy.

Eggsy rushed to his side and clutched at his hand that wasn’t connected to the IV. “God damn it, Harry,” he whispered, already on the brink of tears after a handful of words.

Harry hushed him and pulled his hand free to cup the side of Eggsy’s face. He smiled gently and rubbed his thumb across the skin. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’d hope so. Especially after I came all this way to find you. To be honest, I didn’t think that it would be this easy, but I’m glad that it was with how much I missed you.”

“I am glad that it’s you here who’s come to fetch me rather than Merlin,” Harry conceded.

Eggsy reached behind him and pulled the chair up next to the bed so that he could sit down. He gave himself a minute to look over the bandages that were covering Harry’s left eye, but aside from that he didn’t look any worse for wear. The nurse had said that he was recovering nicely.

“Don’t think that me being here is going to let you off the hook. Everyone’s waiting for you to come back and Merlin expects you to take up the role of Arthur upon your return.”

Harry groaned. “He does, does he? I never wanted to be Arthur and he knows that. Why would he put me in that position?”

“Consider it him getting back at you for going missing after you got shot in the head and not being there to help us defeat Valentine and his plot to cripple the world’s population. Plus, Kingsman has hardly any agents right now and we need someone to lead the organization as it works to get its feet back underneath it. And since you’re the only person left with the most experience besides Merlin…”

Harry winced. “The news that I’ve managed to round up with my limited abilities has not sounded pretty.”

“Just think of it like what happened in the church, but with the entire world.”

Harry sighed. “I can imagine what the cleanup is like for that.”

“Well, you’re going to be doing much more than just imagining it when we get you back to England.”

“What if the two of us just settled down here in Kentucky? I’ve found the southern hospitality to be quite welcoming and the food wonderful for the stomach. No one back home has to know.”

“Sorry, Harry, but I can’t do that. I came here to bring you home and I’m not about to give up my spot as a Kingsman agent when I was already out of the running once before.”

Harry let his head fall back against the pillow. “And I’m sure that Merlin is tracking your movements regardless.”

“Even if he wasn’t, I doubt the Statesmen would allow me to join their organization or would be entirely welcoming to have a rouge Kingsman agent fucking around in their country.”

Harry’s brow furrowed and he looked over at Eggsy with a frown. “Statesmen? You’re working with them?”

He nodded. “Merlin made arrangements for them to brief me here and they were the ones that got a drop on your location in this hospital. So it’s really thanks to them that I got here so quickly. Who knows where else you would’ve gone off to without me. I’m certain you probably don’t have any of your things or the means to get back to England from here.”

Silence fell between them and the beeping of the machines seemed to fall away into the background as they looked at each other. Eggsy kept his eyes on where Harry’s hand was now clutched in his own.

“How did you even know that I was alive?”

The softness of Harry’s voice took Eggsy off guard and he looked up to see a special kind of vulnerability in his eye as he watched his reaction. Eggsy allowed himself a small smile.

“Well for one thing, I always assume that you’re tougher than it seems and that you couldn’t have died from that shot because damn it all if you wouldn’t let yourself get taken out so easily. And for another thing, something that you’re very obviously forgetting about and the reason we came together in the first place, my wings. They didn’t change at all like what happened to Mum after Dad died. So I knew. I knew that you had to be alive and were out here somewhere kicking like your life depended on it.”

“I wish that I could kiss you right now,” Harry murmured.

Eggsy squeezed his hand. “Later. My bed back at Statesmen is more than enough for two people. That is, if you can get discharged today?”

“Considering I’ve been in a stable condition since the surgery and haven’t had any other problems, I don’t think that the staff will keep me now that my son has come to collect me. I’m sure that they’ll recommend instructions for the healing process from here and give me requirements in finding a doctor in England to care for me as I work to make a full recovery. As long as I have the medical records, it’s nothing that the Kingsman medical staff will have any problems with managing.”

A short knock sounded before the door was pulled in and the nurse from before walked in. Eggsy didn’t even bother pulling his hands away from Harry’s, knowing that to her it would simply look like a son finding comfort in his father, but to Eggsy it was a lover finding comfort in the fact that his soulmate was still alive and was there.

“Everything going okay in here?” she asked with a smile.

Harry nodded. “Yes. My son and I were just catching up about the events over the past few days and were wondering if it would be possible for me to be discharged now that I have someone to care for me and monitor my condition.”

She nodded happily. “Your doctor left me with some directions if that were the case. We were hoping that this reunion would let us send you home. As you know, and we’ve told you multiple times, your healing has been stellar and we have no need to keep you here any longer and your condition is more than sufficient for flying. Since you will be going back to the U.K., do you have a doctor that we can send your files or would you like us to send them with you?”

“I’ll take the files with me, thank you. To avoid the risk of them getting lost if anything else.”

She nodded. “We can have a copy of your records ready when you complete the discharge forms. Now, you will need to find a doctor that has experience in dealing with head injuries and facial surgeries. We’ll send a recommendation in getting a pain medication prescription, but with your progress so far, there is a high probability that it won’t be needed. Just give me a minute to remove your IV and shut down the rest of the medical equipment and then you can get dressed and head down to reception to fill out your forms.”

Eggsy watched her move around to the other side of the bed and bend her head over Harry’s arm in order to carefully remove the needle in his arm. She pulled a piece of gauze and medical tape from her scrubs and placed it over where blood had come to the surface. She then turned to the machines and gradually shut them off down while removing the wires and patches from around him.

“There you are,” she said, pulling the last thing free and stepping back. “I’ll leave you to get changed and when you’re done just head down to reception and they can take care of you.”

Harry nodded and the two of them watched her leave. He pushed the blankets off of his legs and Eggsy stepped back to give him space to stand. He managed to get up without a problem and move over to where his suit had been piled. Eggsy could see some of the dried blood stains and was surprised that it still seemed to be in one piece. And then his attention zoned in on the back of his medical gown and the fact that Harry was very obviously not wearing anything underneath.

He felt his throat go dry and looked towards the other side of the room and let himself relax when he heard the bathroom door shut. He walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside to look out at the sidewalk and the people who were walking by far in front of the building. He was glad that there was so much space between the sidewalk and the windows of the ground floor to offer the patients some privacy if they wanted to allow some natural light in.

He turned at the sound of the door being pulled open to find Harry looking somewhat better now that he was wearing a proper suit again. “Shall we go, then?” he asked.

Eggsy nodded and followed him from the room as they made their way back down to the main area. He spotted Abe as soon as they were through the doors and Eggsy took a seat next to him, letting Harry take care of the paperwork on his own since he’d come up with his own identity during this whole fiasco. Abe said nothing as they watched Harry chat amicably with the receptionist and scratch his signature on a handful of forms.

Looking far too proper for the state of his suit, Harry walked back to the two of them as they rose to meet him. Abe led the way back to the car park and Harry took the backseat while Eggsy sat himself up front with Abe again. He hoped that would help to keep their relationship a bit more discreet.

“I’m going to operate under the assumption that he is more than willing to stay in your room and we don’t need to prepare an additional room at headquarters. Do you have an idea of when you’ll be heading back to England?”

Eggsy willed himself not to flush, but knew that he’d failed as his cheeks heated up. “I’ll get in contact with our operator back at Kingsman as soon as we get back to headquarters and let him know that I’ve found our missing agent. From there he’ll most likely book us plane tickets for tomorrow in order to get us back as soon as possible.”

Abe nodded as he pulled into the underground car park below the Statesmen headquarters. “I’ll inform George. He’ll probably want to meet with you before you leave tomorrow so be ready for that debriefing session.” They walked over to the lift and rode it to the residential floor. “I’ll leave you two to get settled. If you need anything else, the phone will connect you directly to me.”

Eggsy nodded. “I’ll inform you when I’ve received flight information.” He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, letting Harry walk in first before shutting the door behind him. He turned to find him standing right behind him and stepped back against the closed door as he crowded into his space. Harry raised his hands and cupped the side of his face, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. Eggsy sighed into the contact and gripped Harry’s arms, holding him close.

He pulled away and leaned their foreheads against each other. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Harry said, looking deeply into his eyes. “I thought that I’d never be able to see you again and that was the last thing that I wanted. I’d waited so long to find you that it would’ve been a crime to leave so soon.”

“I’m glad that you managed to survive. Now,” he said, squeezing Harry’s arm and stepping away. “I need to contact Merlin and let him know that you’re alive and well.”

Harry groaned, but followed Eggsy further into the room. He sat down on the bed and watched Eggsy take a seat at the small table and pull a tablet out of the suitcase, tapping out several commands and getting to work. After a few minutes he set the tablet aside and turned to look at Harry.

“I’m sorry that I don’t have a change of clothes for you at the moment. We might be able to get something better for you to wear tomorrow. Unless one of my suits would happen to fit you.”

“I might be able to wear one of your shirts and possibly the pants, but I don’t want to risk damaging your Kingsman uniforms.”

Eggsy nodded and moved to say something else when a ringing emitted from the tablet. He lifted it and rolled his eyes before swiping.

“What? Do you need to actually see him before you’ll believe me?” Eggsy asked, irritated.

“Yes. Now just show me that he’s fine,” Merlin said, voice filtering strangely through the speakers.

Eggsy flipped the tablet around and aimed it at Harry.

“Still in one piece, I see,” he said tightly, but the relief was unmistakable.

“Still alive, yes. I’m assuming that you’re going to have Eggsy and I on a plane back tomorrow morning?”

“I’d be stupid not to. I need you two back here to help get Kingsman back off its feet. Now get something to eat and get some sleep. You have an early flight tomorrow.” Merlin immediately cut the call and Harry fell back on the bed.

“Can’t argue with that, I guess.”

Eggsy chuckled and set the tablet aside before pulling off his suit jacket and leaning down to undo his shoes. “I’ll call Abe later. For now, I just want to lay down with you for a while.”

Harry smiled and pulled off his own jacket as Eggsy crawled onto the bed. He joined him quickly and wrapped him in his arms, closing his eyes and letting the world of dreams take him once again, Eggsy’s familiar scent finally quieting the restlessness that he’d been unable to escape since he woke up in the hospital.

#hartwin #kingsman #molim writes #fic: these wings #update #penultimate chapter

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tharteye · 8 years ago

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monday 11th

I need to write about this weekend before i forget. Thats just how it is, the more days that pass with every minute the moments fade. It was overall an incredible weekend but also extremely overwhelming and a little weird and strange. The thing is we were a group of people of all ages and backgrounds that fundamentally do not get along that well and dont know eachother that well either. So being this group of people stuck together in a house for a weekend with alot of alcohol and drugs and not that much in common to speak about, it was bound to end up a little bizare. I woke up early saturday because i went to sleep early on friday and it felt so good to have a goodnights sleep and wake up in these beautiful surroundings with fresh air. I took a walk by the pond and relaxed in the sun by the pool. Then we made lunch and ate all together and drank some wine and gin and tonic. our host was quite drunk and spent the majority of the time making love somewhere with her guy, Arthur or guru as we call him. a little after lunch we wanted to horse ride and serena went to catch them. They were wild argentinian horses and she rode them saddleless. It was so beautiful and sexy i have never seen anything like it. I fell off my horse and it was quite scary but afterwards we rode fast into the sunset and it was dangerous and amazing at the sametime. I dont rememeber ever being this fearless and stupid. we had no helmets on and had quite abit of alcohol in our blood. I dont even want to imagine what could have happened. When we finished we made an asado over fire and ate all together. Serena wasnt feeling well i think she maybe pushed it all abit too far. After dinner we went to the guest house, we drank and took these pills that look like little minions. But as m said to me the following day, you cant create an experience with drugs, you should use drugs to enhance the experience you are having. Recently we have just been taking drugs out of boredom I think and partly just to loose control and not be in any control at all. We are so free here that it feels so good to not have to control anything and just let go of yourself. But I am getting bored of being bored and doing things out of boredom. To be honest I am a little tired of this situation over all. And sometimes I feel like I should have gone travelling alone. As we watched the sunrise by the pond, my brain registered how beautiful and amazing it was and how perfect this moment was lying cuddling with lucy and lucas but I couldn’t help but almost wish I wasn’t high and I could truly enjoy the moment because it felt like even though I was there and registered everything, I wasn’t really there. It sort of felt like there was a blurry glass over my eyes and my perception I couldn’t really really grasp what was going on. Almost as if I was only half present and half somewhere else, just floating around. Im tired of feeling like that. I want to be a live truly and really. However We did have a one beautiful moment earlier that evening. We had shortly just taken the ecstacy and we went outside to sit on this bench placed in the field and we just sat there looking at the stars. Just breathing. Breathing deeply and properly. Only thinking about breathing and nothing else. We closed our eyes and I don’t know for how long we were there but it is the first time in a long time I havnt thought about anything. It felt like the most healthy and right thing to do. The night air blowing gently on your face, touching shoulders with two humans that feel just like you in that moment and just being. What a feeling. The answers all blowing in the wind. What a beautiful life. And times like that yeah I guess its all sort of worth it. We didn’t have wifi all weekend and that felt good too. Guru and serena were hooking up making love the majority of the night. And mara and oli hooked up. They had sex the entire night. He asked me on a date a few weeks ago but I wasn’t really interested. But mara suddenly started liking him. Deep down I think she just liked him because he liked me. I slept in a tiny bed with lucy , I have no idea how we did that. We woke up the following day all a litte aloof and we just wanted to get out of there. So oeverall a bizarre weekend. There was this French guy hugo who was unbearable who I just couldn’t stand and this girl martia went nuts whent we took the drugs. I could have easily passed the night without them. After I showered I went to lay down in my bed for abit with my ipod and I needed that. I thought about my family and a and m. I received a message from m once I turned on the wifi. Which I found quite strange, I havnt heard from him in so long and he never used to message me when we lived a few blocks from eachother. Lifes weird.

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