'Merlin I had this ridiculous dream that we were in HQ and you'd called me down cos someone was messin' with Harry's file and then...he...was...' Eggsy trailed off; sitting up slowly in the chair he'd been seemingly asleep in, wide eyed at the sight of Harry in front of him.

'Sorry to say, lad, but that wasn't a dream. Seems the bastard was late to his own funeral by quite a few months, and didn't feel the need to tell us.' Merlin's voice is bitter, and resigned, and very exasperated. Harry, on the other hand, simply looks bemused, hands assumedly on his lap as he sits across the table.

Eggsy, on the one hand, was incredibly pleased that he hadn't been hallucinating. It certainly wasn't an unthinkable situation- he spent enough time thinking about the man, imagining might-have-been's. On the other hand, he was incredibly angry that Harry had left them assuming he was dead for nearly eight months. They'd fucking buried a coffin for him, there's a headstone out on the grounds with far too few years on it- but the house was just as it always had been. He feels like the two extremes just kind of neutralise any further outward reaction he'd have had.

'So, Harry, what did you think was gonna happen when you got here?' Eggsy is proud of how solid and sure his voice is, trying to pretend that he's not as affected as his earlier fainting spell would suggest. Stubbornly meeting Harry's eye straight on.

'Well, honestly, I intended to speak with Arthur and work things out from there.'

'Yeah, well, he's dead. Tried to kill me. Hey, you know what happens when you assume, bruv?'

'I'm stuck in a room with a young man still recovering from a fainting spell and a very angry bald man?'

'You make an arse of you and me, Harry. That's what happens.' Harry raises a hand to his face, shaking his head sadly, a small huff of laughter escaping him. 'Except, of course, you're the larger arse in this situation; cos to add to you assumin' shit you are also causing a fucktonne of paperwork for Merlin. Since, you know, he's been Merthur all this time.' Merlin strikes him across the back of the head, tutting at him lowly, but none of that gets rid of the smile on his face.

'Eggsy, what have I told you about using that name?'

'Not to.'

'And yet you continue.'

Harry feels bittersweet, seeing the two banter so easily; he's simultaneously glad to see them happy and incredibly disappointed that he wasn't there to see the development. He might as well not be in the room, excepting Merlin's frequent glances in his direction, but he's glad he came back. He's so shocked by Arthur's betrayal, but reminds himself that it was that kind of possibility that kept him from contacting Kingsman when he first woke up.

'Well, luckily for me that's no longer the case.' Merlin sounds smug when Harry tunes back in, and he's suddenly wary of the words he had missed.

'What?' Eggsy has a glint in his eyes that's unfamiliar to him, and Harry is suddenly reminded of how little he actually knew of Eggsy. He'd seen so few emotions on his face: heartbreak and disappointment and determination and maybe a moment of mischief and- Oh.

No. *No.*

'Sorry to say, Harry, but you've got no choice here.' He hadn't even realised that he'd spoken aloud.

'You can't make me, Merlin.' He sounded childish.

'Actually, I can, Harry- you're the one that reactivated yourself in the Kingsman database. . But, you see, your death meant we had to fill your spot at the table. I happen to like the new Galahad more than I want you in that space- not when there's a seat far more suited to your new status. I'm your boss at the moment, and I'm delegating Arthur to you. Effective immediately.' Harry's head fell to the table with a loud thump.