Revelations

"Why are we doing this on paper again? Last I checked Kingsman had the newest technology this world has to offer." Eggsy threw the file he'd been flipping through down in exasperation. They had been at it for hours and all they'd come up with was a sparse list of possible locations of warehouses, previous meeting places and snippets of names. But nothing valid that was worth checking out immediately.

"It's easier to handle that way. It also makes it harder for someone who might be trying to monitor our movements while Kingsman's still vulnerable. And the servers still aren't fully back online, yet."

She had made herself comfortable in one of the sofas, feet propped up on the armrest of Eggsy's matching one. A stack of files set neatly beside her on a long mahagony table. The file she was currently reading lay open on her lap and she only moved her hands to turn the pages or to slide the glasses back up her nose now and then. They were barely a tiny bit too large.

"I didn't know you needed glasses." He'd seen her train without any visual aid and was, therefore, surprised. Not that it didn't suit her, but still.

Roxy didn't look up. "I don't. But they come in handy on missions, as you might have noticed."

A bit taken aback by her cold reaction, Eggsy quickly continued. "Yeah I know, I just ... we're not actually in the field right now, so I was surprised. That's all."

Roxy sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tense."

Eggsy had noticed that. It was obvious in the way her eyes found the tablet every few minutes, presumably to check if Lamorak had reported back.

"No news from Percy, yet?" he asked, giving her an opportunity to talk about it. They hadn't really shared a longer conversation since the end of training and Eggsy felt it would do both of them good.

Roxy shook her head, her brows knitted in silent worry. "Lamorak is scheduled to land in half an hour. I know there's no point hoping to hear anything before that, but I can't help myself."

He affectionately patted her foot resting beside his arm, boots long forgotten on the floor. He knew what it was like to be truly worried over someone. It drained your strength, made you feel vulnerable and - worst of all - incredibly helpless if there was nothing you could do, but wait. And hope.

"If you need someone to confide in, I'm here, okay."

He had closed his file and looked at her seriously. Roxy mimicked him and returned his gaze, smiling faintly. The library with its millions of books carefully lined up on the shelves suddenly wasn't as suffocating anymore.

"I never asked you how you were," she stated, not answering his silent question. "I know he meant a lot to you. And it may not help you or change anything - and mind you, it will definitely not bring him back - but I'm convinced, I know that you meant a lot to him, too."

She could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the pain and desperation. It reminded her painfully of her own loss and the never healing wound it had left. "Hold on to that knowledge, Eggsy. It will make you strong. Although you may not believe it, yet."

Unable to think of anything to say, Eggsy simply nodded, his jaw clenched tightly in an effort to keep his emotions in check.

"Saying 'I'm sorry' felt cheap," Roxy added. "A hollow statement, a lie, an excuse to not have to meet your eye." She took a shaky breath and looked away from him. After a few seconds of silence she whispered, "I've heard it too many times myself."

"You're talking about the previous Lancelot." It wasn't so much a question as a realisation. His friend's face darkened and for a brief moment, Eggsy regretted bringing it up.

"Yes." She watched him thoughtfully. "I think it's time I told you a few things about me."

She paused to consider how to begin and Eggsy waited patiently, knowing interrupting Roxy would only distract her. There was no reason to reassure her that it was okay if she didn't confide in him, she knew that. They had grown close friends during their training and he loved her like a sister.

"First of all," Roxy began. "You should know that Percival isn't only my mentor, but also my brother. When I was very young - just about five years old - he took me to his house to raise me by himself. Why and what happened to my - our - parents is something Percy has told even me very little about."

She halted in her narration, starring at the bookshelf opposite her. "The previous Lancelot - James Spencer - joined Kingsman 17 years ago. Against all odds, my brother and he became friends. And after a year or so, their strong friendship turned into love."

Roxy took off her glasses to have something to occupy her hands. She spinned them between her fingers, distracted by the reflected light. "James moved in with Percy and me when I was about six, constantly present in my life from then on. If I've ever had something close to parents, if I would ever get asked who I'd see as such, they would be my two dads."

She was right, Eggsy noted. Saying 'I'm sorry' seemed pathetic, such a weak attempt to try lessen the other's pain. So, instead, he continued patting her foot.

Roxy let out a huff. "We are a true mess, aren't we?"

"Yeah." He wasn't sure why, but Eggsy smiled. He felt a lot better having Roxy here with him. Having her understanding and comfort and not just her pitty made all the difference in the world.

"You know what?" He straightened, closing the file on his lap with a dull thud. "You stay here and I'll get us something to cheer us up, to get the endorphins rolling ..."

A bemused look on her face, Roxy was about to ask him where he was going and if he'd really just said 'endorphins' - who knew Eggsy had such medical knowledge - , but Eggsy had already bolted out of the room.

~oOo~

Voices, unknown and unimportant. They came from far away, penetrating the fog that surrounded him.

They were shouting, violently tearing through his brain, trying to reach his mind and conquer his thoughts. With every word pain cursed through his already hurting and bleeding body, digging deeper, destroying him from the inside.

You will tell us everything you know, they said. You will obey us. You will succumb to us. You will help us. You will do everything to destroy them. Everyone you know and love, you will tear apart.

They were insisting, didn't stop talking. Minutes, hours, days. Months. He didn't know how long. All he wanted was to sleep, to fade. Maybe if he gave in, he would be able to rest. What was the worst that could happen? What was worse than this? All he needed to do was let go, let them win.

No.

He screamed. Not knowing if just in his head or actually aloud. Never.

He woke with a start, again met by the ugly face of the man who'd flashed water in his face earlier.

His throat hurt like hell. And from the look on his opponants face he guessed he'd been screaming in his sleep. He now remembered vaguely what had transpired before he'd first woken up. The torture, the fruitless attempts to break his will. Someone had gone though quite a lot to turn him into an assassin, but he still had no idea why. Just as he couldn't recall anything before he first ended up in this room. Or who he was, for that matter.

His head still hurt like it was split in two, though. And he wondered how long he'd been held captive. He must look like hell if the smell of his clothes was any indication.

"Now," the man spoke, patting his swollen cheek to get his attention. "It seems like they have done a very thorough job trying to break you."

He blinked up at his captor, clearly confused. If the man wasn't with the people who'd tortured him in the first place, why was he here now? And what did he want?

"But I don't care what they wanted you to do. I'm only interested in the information you clearly hold. And if you can't remember it, I'll make sure you do soon."