A Demand

PART II

Harry shifted in his seat. He would have thought, after all this time, someone would have come up with a comfortable hospital chair. Then again, sleeping wasn't very high on his list of priorities. If he slept he would not be able to watch Merlin- his Alastair- and remind himself that he was all right.

He had him back.

He slumped farther in his uncomfortable chair, and his back twinged. Fuck, getting old was a nuisance. He ran a hand over his face, fingers brushing against the straps of his eye-patch. Losing his eye had been a fucking nuisance. Being here was fucking ridiculous. Merlin was a handler. He should not have been put out there, no matter how low risk the mission had been dubbed.

Alastair should not have been shot. Alastair should have been at home with him, griping about Harry's full head of hair- gray though it may be-, making breakfast and telling Harry not to put so much sugar in his tea, wrapping his arms around him at night and reminding him that he was human.

He was not supposed to be in a hospital bed.

Harry considered having another heart attack. The poison that had induced the last one was in Merlin's lab, a few stories below him. Let the bastard wake up and see Harry in a bed alongside him, wondering what had happened while he was out. Alastair frequently said that if he had any hair left, Harry would have made him tear it out. As if he had the monopoly on worry. As if Harry was somehow running into reckless situations on a regular basis. As if Harry could ever leave him behind, if they did anything stupid these days, they tended to do it together. Harry had abandoned the notion of dieing alone more than a decade ago. Where one went, the other would follow.

He was beginning to sound a little codependent. Not to mention poisoning himself was a touch melodramatic. Their love affair was hardly Romeo and Juliet. It wasn't even an affair. Forty years of friendship, thirty years together, what they had was something else. And managing it in their line of work meant they were fucking owed.

Harry wasn't in the habit of demanding things from the universe, but right now, he wanted a lot. His fucking desperate, silent, pleas for survival when Eggsy had told him Merlin was shot- his atrociously unprofessional call to the head of MI6 on their personal line- had awoken an entitlement in him. Harry had found himself taking things from the cold, uncompromising universe, and somehow the fabric of his reality had not snapped. No, it told him there were other options.

And fuck it, he was old enough now to take them.

He stared at Alastair, the shrill beep of the heart monitor filling the air rather than the low brogue of his voice.

"It's not like you to keep me waiting. I know people say you eventually pick up on the habits of those around you, but you should know better than to emulate me."

Late had just about defined Harry when he was Galahad. When he was younger he called it making an entrance. When he was older, it was looking for another solution. Because there was more to every mission than what was on the page. And right now, there was more to life than the missions he had dedicated himself to.

Shit. He was finally considering it, wasn't he? Retirement.

They had both been injured before- though Harry perhaps, a touch more frequently. Shot, stabbed, torn, broken. Gone missing. Been tortured. Vanished when need be. And fuck, wasn't that a brilliant way to start off being Arthur? A hole in his security, agents scattered to the wind, unable and unwilling to communicate until they found out how- found who was responsible.

His tears on those occasions had generally been private. They had normally been prompted by relief, not gut wrenching terror. Harry hadn't yet decided he wasn't dieing alone, then. It had been a quiet request all those years ago when he first realized it, laying beside Alastair. After this little escapade, he was going to make it a demand.

It was what he was owed.

Harry reached out and grasped Alastair's hand. There was no answering pressure from his fingers, so Harry took his other hand and clasped it on top of both of theirs.

"You used to say you would never live to see this day. As you are unequivocally alive, now all you need to do is see it."

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as the absurdity of what he was about to do caught up to him. He could handle this man seeing him be a bit ridiculous.

Harry leaned forward, damn back twitching as he did so, and kissed the top of Alastair's nose.

"Open your eyes."

It wasn't a request.

The universe listened.