AN: I don't know why I keep torturing Harry, it's not as though he hasn't been through enough already. Eventually I mean to make this fic part three in a series. (The first one is End of the Beginning and part two is still a work in progress.) But this is done and it works as a stand-alone too, so y'all might as well go ahead and read it now...
He should have done this sooner. He meant to. But Eggsy had been his first priority, and Eggsy was never going to set foot here. The boy felt responsible for Merlin's death and was having a difficult time with it. Harry knew exactly how he felt, he'd only gone to Lee's home because he owed it to Lee's wife and son. Merlin didn't have those kind of attachments.
Harry let himself into Merlin's private residence. The place needed to be packed up and he couldn't think of another soul he trusted to do it. He also knew he didn't want to face the task alone.
"Where do you wanna start?" Tequila asked.
Harry looked around the small living area, he actually had no idea.
"We could take a room each...?" Tequila suggested.
"No," Harry declined, "let's just do it together. Get it done."
"Alright," the younger agent accepted.
Harry didn't really care about the furniture or household items. Once he had all of Merlin's personal things, he could call some charity to take care of the rest.
Sorting through Merlin's things felt like an intrusion. Even though Harry had known the Scotsman for decades, there was a lot he hadn't known about Merlin, and the man deserved some privacy.
"Look here," Tequila said, offering a small, wooden frame to Harry. Inside was a faded, old specimen.
"Polyommatus icarus."
Tequila gave him a blank look.
"Common Blue butterfly," Harry said. "I gave this to him when we first made Kingsman. I can't believe he kept it all these years."
"It must have been important to him."
Harry had caught this butterfly himself, it was a species also commonly found in Scotland. Blue butterflies were believed to be wish granters and the wish had come true.
He added it to the box of things to keep.
It didn't take very long at all to gather up the few personal things Merlin had left behind downstairs, and they headed up to the bedroom. There was an ensuite attached which Tequila took a quick glance at.
"Hey, I thought you said your pal didn't have a girlfriend..."
"He didn't. Or at least not that I was aware of. Why?"
"Two toothbrushes. Either he was real particular about his oral hygiene or someone stayed over regular."
"Unlikely." Merlin had been married to his job. Like Harry, he'd never had time for relationships.
"A girl with taste," Tequila assessed upon opening the wardrobe door. Harry saw a grey pant suit hanging there and he would recognise that tailoring anywhere.
"Lancelot..." Could Merlin and Roxy have been dating? It was possible Harry supposed, he'd been out of the loop for a long time. He pulled open the drawer on the bedside table, where he found a note written on a small, white card. He lifted it up and read the feminine handwriting.
'Not every accident is a disaster...'
He flipped it over to reveal a grainy black and white photo. It was an ultrasound picture, marked R. Morton. Suddenly, there wasn't enough air in the room and his chest ached. Merlin was going to be a father?
Then a big piece of the puzzle fell into place. Not Merlin's sacrifice, Harry knew he'd have done anything for Lee's son, but the manner in which he'd faced his death. The way he'd appeared to welcome it.
Roxy was dead and Merlin had known that on the mission. Had he asked to join them because he had a death wish? Oh Eggsy. Eggsy who was being crushed by guilt needed to know this.
"I have to tell Eggsy," Harry suddenly declared, it was all he could think of. The only thing he could do to salvage some meaning from the situation, because he had to do something. This blow was too much.
"Where did I... put that phone?" he wondered, patting his pockets, doing his best to ignore the hitch in his voice. "Where is that bloody thing..."
"Hey, hey..." a sympathetic voice intruded. "Just stop. You're allowed to be sad about this too."
He looked up into compassionate green eyes and couldn't hold back the sob, then Tequila had him wrapped up tight in his arms.
Harry cried. Not only for the lost child and the missed opportunity, but every tear he'd denied himself since the death of his closest friend and ally. When the flood of emotion had run its course he felt stupid and weak. He should've waited until he was alone and had this breakdown privately.
He stepped back and took his glasses off, wiping the wetness from his eyes.
He cleared his throat and tried to act in a more dignified manner.
"I apologise for that ugly display."
Running his hand over his left eye, he suddenly remembered it was gone and he wanted to put the glasses back on as quickly as possible to hide his ruined face but Tequila wasn't going to allow that. Gently, he curled his fingers around Harry's wrist.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for. I wanna see every part of you, including your tears..." And here he pressed a soft kiss to Harry's right temple, "and your scars." Then he kissed Harry's left temple, near where his eye used to be. "Nothing about you is ugly," he finished, resting his palm against Harry's face.
Harry felt the lump in his throat tighten again, no one had ever accepted him so completely. It was such a foreign yet liberating feeling. And he was too old to fight it, too old to not grab what was being offered and hold on as tight as he could with both hands. Today had been a brutal reminder of the fragility and uncertainty of life.
He let himself be pulled back into strong, young arms and find comfort. After all, this man was all he had left. Though, safe and secure in that embrace, he discovered that it might be more than enough.