Spoilers for Fogs Of London. Warnings for: First time writing G.B.

And while I have your attention, just to clear up the last chapter. The two absent people were Dr. G and the injured cyborg. As for who the injured cyborg was, I honestly didn't know when I wrote it. Thank you, and enjoy the chapter.


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Should Have

Hesitance and Great Britain was never to be used in the same sentence. Whenever he received a new part, those nearby would watch as the actor switched masks immediately during a performance, then just as quickly changing back to G.B. when the performance was through. It was the first thing that fellow actors noted about him.

He knew this of course, though never really acknowledged the fact. He was just doing something which ran through his very veins. Hesitance was simply not in there. He just went in there and did something, all the while smiling to the others.

It was because of this, that no one was entirely sure how the great actor slipped away from the limelight, except for Great Britain himself.

It started from the day he actually hesitated. An offer from a prestigious group, the warm smile from the woman he loved… and he hesitated, not knowing what to do. It took him a while, but he finally made his decision. Sophie had urged him to take his chance, he deserved to go join them in the spotlight, but some feeling kept telling him to stay.

But the decision was made, and that feeling had been replaced by regret. It had subsided, until that one day down the carpet, surrounded by the flashes of cameras, arm in arm with an actress of his league.

Look.

Something made him turn, over to the left, and there she was. After so long, there was Sophie. Right there. He couldn't be sure what shone in that night, but as she walked away, the guilt washed over him in torrents. He wanted to run after her, talk to her…

Finally apologize for leaving.

He didn't. He hesitated, again, letting her just walk off. The excuse was that with all the paparazzi there, he couldn't do anything.

He hesitated, and he still never forgave himself for doing so, twice.

Acting just wasn't the same anymore. The spark that emitted from his eyes dimmed with time. His "brilliance of spirit" that would show whenever he slipped into another role had diminished entirely, so he chose to slip away from the stage- slowly, but surely.

Green eyes always haunted his thoughts.

The number of acts he performed in soon dwindled, and one day, the count finally hit zero. Fans and audiences murmured amongst one another the day he performed his last. His fellow actors were shocked, some confused, and a few outraged at his decision.

He didn't care.

Alcohol was what he resorted to, to ease his mind of everything else. Now, he could slip away from reality. At the bars, he regained a reputation, as "the-washed-up-actor", reciting verses in his drunken haze.

He just couldn't show his face to the rest of the world… to her.

Some customers at the bar looked on with pity. He was another poor soul who was just wasting himself away like the others they've seen.

It was the same old routine now: Drinking the troubles away, being kicked out by the bartenders after a round of verses, (they just didn't appreciate the art!) then lying motionlessly on the stone streets, sometimes trying to will the rest of the world gone.

If things were the way they were, Sophie wouldn't have wanted him to do this. She would have dragged him out of there herself, and dumped the coldest water she could find on his head… and then she'd hug him, telling him how stupid he was for drinking like that.

But things were different. She wasn't there. He felt stupid enough as it was, leaving her.

That one night was just like any other night. Except that he didn't know, intoxicated from the alcohol he had chugged down, was that there were still a lot of roles that he needed to slip into.

Including one 007.

He had really liked the team. With time, they really could grow closer as a family. They did seem to be getting along a little. Despite this thought, none of them- excluding 001, on account of his capabilities- knew that a part of him wanted to go back to London, and say exactly what he wanted to say to Sophie. Every single word of it.

He finally did. Before the group officially had to leave London, he went back to her grave with a bright blue bouquet of flowers.

He sat in front of her grave, saying the words he should have said the night before.