#i love him as a flautist as well but like it's a real pity he doesn't sing more

[atomicstarburstlabware]

... is beimid fé bhláth go brách

[stuckysdaughter]

What Once Was Lost

Harry Hart (Kingsman: The Secret Service)/Fem!Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: You were shot by Valentine, taking the bullet meant for Harry. They presumed you dead, until they found you back in the States with the Statesman Agents. Can he bring back your memories and help you once more recognize the loved ones in front of you?

TW: amnesia, guns, mentions of blood, a smidgen of language

"But this isn't that kind of movie," Valentine was saying to your husband.

"No, it isn't."

And not too soon after that, Valentine's gun was aimed and ready, right toward Harry. You knew in that moment that he was going to be shot. No. You couldn't let that happen. Not on your watch. So when the shot was fired, it wasn't Kingsman agent Harry Hart it hit. It was you, Agent Guinevere, Y/F/N Hart it hit instead, right in the chest. You briefly heard a shout, someone yelling your name, before everything went black.

The first thing you remember was waking up in a small room. You didn't recognize this room, but to be honest, you didn't recognize much. Not even a name to call your own. You hoped your clothes would provide a hint as to who you were, or even where you could be. You looked down, but you only saw a black dress that went to the floor. No clues there.

After a few minutes of sitting on the bed, trying to remember something, anything, the only thing you came up with was music. Yes, that's it. You were a musician, a flautist to be exact. This had to be your small studio apartment, and you were on your way to the concert tonight. That was it. But where was your flute and music?

A young woman with dark skin and hair walked in the room. She was wearing glasses, and oddly enough had on a white lab coat.

Something's wrong with this picture.

"Y/N, you're awake! How do you feel?"

"Uh, fine? I was just asleep, nothing to worry about. But, um..." You trailed off.

You really wanted to ask the millions of questions swirling around your brain, but maybe this woman would think you're crazy. Tonight's concert is a big deal, it would make or break your career.

"Where's my flute? And my music, did I leave that lying around somewhere?"

The woman had a look of brief shock, before she collected her features and replied, "I think I saw them out in the living room, let me go get them."

What you didn't see was that once she left the room, she entered a huge lab. Ginger wrote down what she noticed on a clipboard, noting that you thought you were an orchestral flautist. She didn't know where she'd find a flute and music, but maybe the Statesmen had connections in that department. She looked at you through the two-way mirror. In reality, you were in a white padded room, wearing a short white sundress. When they found you, you were a mess, covered in blood.

Today was the first day you gained consciousness, and Ginger was dismayed to learn she was right. You had no memory of anything other than this supposed dream you were living, and it didn't look like you would regain them any time soon, if at all. She just wished she knew of someone to contact. Family, friends, a spouse, someone that could vouch for who you are. If she only knew they were mourning her back in England, not knowing she was alive in America.

-------------------

Eggsy, Harry, and Merlin were finishing up the tour of the Statesman headquarters. They were taken into the lab, and thoroughly interrogated by Tequila. They were shown what was behind the clearing glass, and the first thing they all noticed was you, holding a flute, studying the sheet music in front of you.

"Oh. My. God." This was all Eggsy could get out at the moment. Merlin just stood there in stunned silence, not sure how any of this was happening.

"Y/N" Harry murmured. His world was shaking to its core. You were the love of his life, and he thought you died in his arms. But here you were, unaware that your husband was on the other side of the glass.

"You three know her? It took us forever to get a name out of her, and we weren't even sure it was her real one." Ginger was shocked. It had been months with no sign of anyone who'd recognize her.

"Her name is Y/F/N Hart, otherwise known as Agent Guinevere of the Kingsman Agents. She's one of our best agents. Y/N's my wife... and we thought her to be dead," Harry's words were rushing now, he really wanted the formalities to be over so he could hold his wife in his arms again.

Ginger looked at him with pity. "Agent Galahad, I'm sorry to say, she has virtually no memory. She thinks she's a flautist for the New York Phil living in a studio apartment. If you go in there, who knows what would happen to her mental state. Or yours. She won't recognize you, any of you." She looked at the group, took a deep breath, and finished her thoughts. "I think it would be in her best interest if you left her alone here, with us. She's been making some good progress, but she will never gain more memory than this. It's too dangerous for Y/N to be exposed to so much all at once. I'm so sorry. I'm only thinking of her."

The group stood in silence, weighed down by Ginger's words. None of them wanted to accept that even though you were alive and mostly well behind that door they would never see you again. Somehow this was worse than before, knowing you were there within reach, yet still so far away. Harry couldn't take the waiting any more. Fuck that, he was going to get his wife and bring her home again.

He took long strides until he could walk through the door. This was it. The moment that would decide everything moving forward. He braced himself for the worst, and turned the knob.

"Y/N, it's me. I'm here to take you home."

You just looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't know you. And I am home. I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

Harry took the flute from you, and placed it on the case on the floor. He gently held your hands, and walked you over to the bed in the corner, sitting you both down.

"I know you don't remember me," he said softly, much like when he would talk to you in the softer moments you shared. "But I remember you. Will you let me share some of it with you?"

You thought for a moment. You didn't know this man, but something about him was familiar. You couldn't place where you had seen him before. Oh, what the hell.

"If you say that you know me, then you do. I want to hear what you have to say. Where are you going to start?"

Harry smiled, and let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding in. Maybe he could bring you back. "I'll start from the beginning."

-----------------

It wasn't an easy time for either of you. But with each story Harry told, you got more and more small flashes of something. Your life with him, you knew, but nothing to break the floodgates. Eggsy and Merlin each contributed a small thing, but nothing yet. Harry had one last story to tell, and he really hoped that it would do the trick.

----------------

You two were sitting on the couch together, one arm around your shoulders and the other holding yours, slowly rubbing your thumb. You were tucked into his chest, the both of you with small, soft smiles on your faces. There was a comfortable silence between you, but you broke the silence.

"Harry, my love, I have something to tell you."

He shifted so he could look you in the eye, and moved his arm from your shoulders to your back.

"You know you can tell me anything, darling. What's on your mind?"

"I... I want to have a baby."

Harry shifted his gaze, looking down for a moment. A baby. Was he ready for that? Goodness knows that his job was too dangerous, and so was yours. But... when he thought of raising a child with you, having a small version of either of you running around, the happiness he got won out. He finally met your worried face, and gave you the biggest smile he could muster.

"I do too, Y/N. I do too."

------------------

When Harry finished recounting one of the happiest days of his life, he took one more glance at you. Your gaze was cast at the floor, and for you, there was a rush. All of your life came back to you in one moment, and there it all was. You knew the man in front of you. The wonderful man who didn't give up when all hope was lost. Your amazing husband of a year and a half. You locked eyes, and smiled.

"I was so happy you said yes. My heart had never beat so hard and so fast in my life. And that's after telling you that I loved you the first time and jumped out of a plane."

Harry's brain couldn't catch up fast enough. You were back, for real. At last. He beamed, and gave you the biggest hug he could. When you both pulled away from the embrace, he moved his hands to the sides of your face and pulled you into a kiss. This was gentle, like he was being careful not to break you, but full of the passion that comes from being apart. The kisses grew more forceful, but you were interrupted by your friends entering the room.

You turned to look at them, and smiled once more.

"Merlin. Eggsy."

You met them in the middle, and gave each a hug.

"Wait a second. Before we go off to save the world one more time, I just remembered something. Well, a lot of somethings, but you know what I mean. First things first, where's my wedding ring and can I please put it back on?"

Ginger had it in a safe place, and brought it back for you. Harry slipped it back on your finger, just like that wonderful day you got married.

"Ok, one more thing." You looked at Harry again. "Remember how we said we wanted to have a baby?"

The look in his eyes told you he knew what that meant, and in that moment he knew that no matter what else the world decided to throw his way, everything would be just fine. After all, he had his friends by his side, his beautiful wife, and now a baby on the way.

He couldn't be happier his entire life.

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THE END

Author's Notes: Another request done! I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope y'all loved reading it, too. This definitely follows none of the movie (either of them), but I tried my best. For those of you that are wondering, I play flute, that’s my major in college. I needed something that I would do, and that’s quite the lofty goal and perfect for another life. Thank you to the anon that sent in the request, I hope I did it justice. Requests are open, so if anyone has something please send it in. As always, please reblog and comment if you liked the fic!! I love you lovely people so much! - Butterfly