stardragon77

Kingsman - Soul Mates


This is a fanfiction born out of a headcanon idea that my friend Miles Yagami came up with one day.  I saw it and said, “I’ll write it for you.”  And here it is. 

© Kingsman the Secret Service - MARV Films

Eggsy Unwin was dressed in his fine standard issue suit when he entered the Kingsman meeting room.  He sat at near the head of the grand oak table when he activated his glasses.  Within his field of vision he saw the green holographic versions of the new Kingsman members.  There was himself, the new Galahad, across from him were the new Gawain and Percival.  Eggsy was the one who recruited both of these men.  Both were good friends and had passed all of the tests to become Kingsmen, something that was unprecedented according to Merlin, but then again, the organization had never been betrayed from within like it had. 

            Without the green tint, Gawain was a young man roughly in his thirties, with thick black hair combed neatly to his left, small brown eyes, rounded face and very straight nose.  Percival had the same features, only he was a few inches shorter than Gawain and also had a far more piercing glance. 

            “Good morning, gentlemen.” 

            “Good morning, Galahad,” both Gawain and Percival greeted. 

            “Where is Lancelot?”  Gawain asked. 

            “She should be arriving anytime soon,” Eggsy explained and just then the door opened and in came the new Lancelot:  a beautiful woman barely out of her twenties with chestnut hair, oval face, soft eyes and very taut lips.  She was wearing her Kingsman power suit (a suit that commanded power and attention as opposed to the kind of power suit that she had tested with Merlin).  She came in and sat down next to Eggsy, slipped on her glasses and turned on the display within its lenses. 

            “Now that we’re all here,” Eggsy said, “How are the recruitments going?” 

            Percival went first, “All is well.  We have several promising candidates that I’m overseeing at this moment.  Soon we should be able to fill in the posts for Bedivere, Ector, Lucan, Maleagant and Tristan.” 

            “Very good.” 

            “However, Galaha,” Gawain spoke up, “If I may, I wish to address a very serious issue.”

            “Yes,” Eggsy said, “Speak your mind, Gawain.”

            “Sir, it has been a year since the Kingsman fell from within.  And we still have yet to choose and Arthur.” 

            Gawain presented his hand towards the empty chair at the head of the table. 

            “And I dare say that I believe that you would be the most likely choice,” Gawain continued further.

            “I know, but aren’t there others that can fill in the post?  Perhaps Kingsman who have retired?” 

            “You have mentioned that several times at our other meetings,” Percival said, “And each time we’ve mentioned that all other retired Kingsman have died thanks to Valentine’s implants.  No other retired Kingsman are left.”

            “Very well,” Eggsy said, “I’ll take on the role if there are no objections from the current Kingsman?” 

            No one said a word. 

            “Right.  I, Eggsy Unwin, formerly Galahad, take on the role of Arthur of the Kingsman.  If there is no other business, we shall adjourn for the day.” 

            Everyone turned off their glasses and got up from the table. 

            “Oi,” Eggsy groaned. 

            “You don’t like the idea do you?”  Roxy asked. 

            “Nah,” Eggsy shook his head, “I’m no Arthur.  Would be nice if Harry were here, I think he should be the next Arthur.” 

            “Eggsy, it’s been a year.  Harry is gone.”  Roxy reiterated. 

            “But we never found a body at the scene, did we?”  Eggsy pointed out with a cocked eyebrow.

            “True,” Roxy said, “But I hardly think that Harry Hart could survive a bullet to the head and then just get up, dust himself off and wander the wilds of America.” 

            “If there’s no body, then he can’t be dead.”  Eggsy said with staunch conviction.  

            Roxy placed a hand on his shoulder, “I see you’re still in denial, Eggsy.  I know how much Hart meant to you but try not to let this detract you from your duties.  You are now Arthur, after all.” 

            “I know.” 

* * *

            The day ended just like any other work day in the London area.  Only this time, Eggsy Unwin wasn’t going to the squalid apartment that he, his mother and Daisy had shared for so long.  This time, Eggsy had moved himself and his family to the apartment that Harry Hart once had, the one at Stanhope Mews South on Gloucester Road.  The word that his mother used for it was “Posh”.  Although there were a few things that his mother didn’t approve of.  Such as, Harry Hart’s old dog, Mister Pickles, stuffed and sitting on a shelf in the bathroom. 

            “I don’t want to see that while I’m on the lou,” she protested to Eggsy. 

            That memory is what came up when Eggsy looked into the dustbin sitting outside the door and found Mister Pickles sitting in it.

            “Dammnit, Mum,” He muttered to himself after reaching in, dusting it off and taking it inside. 

            Upon unlocking the door he came in and called out, “Mum!  I’m home.” 

            “Welcome home, Eggsy,” His mom called out from the kitchen. 

            Eggsy turned and there in the dining room there was Daisy, a year older and starting to outgrow her high chair. 

            “And how was your day, Daisy?”  He asked leaning forward and pushing her nose with his finger.  The little toddler laughing and slapping her hands upon the tabletop of the high chair.  He couldn’t help but look at how he and she shared so many features.  Eyes the same color as his.  Hair that was starting to curl was the same color as his as well. 

            “Oh, Eggsy!”  His mother cried out.  “Did you have to bring that dirty old thing back in.”

            Eggsy turned around and saw his mother looking at Mister Pickles. 

            “Mum, this belonged to Harry Hart.  I’d like to keep it in memory of him.”  Eggsy said in equal protest. 

            “Well, if you’re going to keep it, at least put it somewhere other than the lou, would you?”  She asked. 

            “Right,” Eggsy said before heading up the stairs. 

            “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”  She called out. 

            “Right, mum,” He said before heading into his room. 

            In the year since the fall of the Kingsman, Eggsy had moved quite a lot of his things into that flat and some of the stuff he had to move out or at least box up.  Such as Harry Hart’s butterfly collections.  Another thing that Eggy’s mother found unnerving: 

            “What kind of man collects insects and sticks pins in them?”  She had asked the first day of coming to the flat. 

            So it was with that that Harry Hart’s butterflies had gone into storage.  Eggy’s mother had insisted that they be given away, perhaps to some collector, but Eggy would have none of it.  He kept it in boxes in the attic but Mister Pickles was something that he kept out in the open.  Maybe it was because of one of the lessons that Hart tried to teach him about that final test.  Eggsy still couldn’t bring himself to shoot JB. 

            And JB was still there, sitting on the bed of his bedroom wagging his curled little tail, panting and oh so happy to see him that he bounded off the mattress and went up to greet him. 

            “Hey, JB.”  Eggsy said reaching down to pet his faithful pug companion.  “Looks like Mister Pickles will be joining us up here.” 

            He went over to his desk, set down the stuffed dog and turned on his laptop computer.  Maybe a little chat with CountryGent91060 would help ease his troubles. 

            Eggsy opened Skype and there were his contacts.  Some of his friends from his rowdier days before joining the Kingsman and then there were a few members of the Kingsman there as well such as Roxy and Merlin.  Both of them were offline which said to Eggsy that they were off having a little fun somewhere else. 

            And then his name came up:

            CountryGen91060.

CountryGent91060:  Hey Eggsy. 

GreenEggs101189: Hey Mark. 

CountryGent91060:  Did you have a good day today? 

GreenEggs101189:  Wouldn’t call it all that good.  Got a promotion.

CountryGent91060: Isn’t that good?

GreenEggs101189:  I guess, but it’s not something that I want.  I have to lead a lot of people during a really bad time.  But I can’t tell you any more than that.

CountryGent91060: Say no more, Eggsy.  I know your work doesn’t allow you to say very much. 

 

Eggsy paused for a moment and started to wonder.  He had been talking with Mark for over a year.  Sharing in their love of British rock music, James Bond films, even parodies of the films and so on.  It was something that was far beyond mere friendship or net-friendship.  Eggsy was certain of that.  He had a love for this guy much like he did for Harry Hart.  After all there were a few times when he and Mark had cybered across the net, even through voice.  Mainly because Mark didn’t have a webcam. 

Eggsy wasn’t sure why he typed it and maybe he never would but the question was put out there. 

GreenEggs101189:  Do you think it’s time we met face to face?

            He pushed ‘enter’ and the question was sent to Mark. 

            “Oh shit,” Eggsy thought to himself, “What do I do?  What do I do?” 

            The panic shot through him quicker than any amount of fear or anxiety that he had in his entire life.  Why had he asked that question?  Was it because of how lonely he was?  Was it because he missed Harry?  Could it have been because of becoming the new Arthur in the Kingsman that made him wish for Harry?  Whatever it was, Eggy’s hands went into his hair and the motions of his fingers had ruffled his dirty blonde hair out of their nearly combed positions. 

           

CountryGent91060:  I think it is time.  When do you want to come out? 

GreenEggs101189:  As soon as possible. 

            “Eggsy!”  His mother called from below, “Dinner’s ready.” 

GreenEggs101189:  Be right back. 

            Eggsy came down the steps to the dinning room where his mother had already laid out the plates and was trying to feed Daisy but was having more fun splattering the food over the table of her high chair as well as on her bib. 

            “Eggsy?’  His mother asked, “Are you alright?  Your hair is a mess.” 

            “I’m fine,” Eggsy said sitting down to eat, “Just stressed a lot at work.  I got promoted.” 

            “That’s lovely, sweetie,” she said continuing her efforts of feeding Daisy, “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re not doing anything too dangerous, is it?” 

            “No, probably not.  Probably means more desk work.” 

            “Doesn’t sound like something you want to do.” 

            “Nah,” Eggsy said continuing to eat his dinner at a rather sluggish pace. 

            “I’m the new Arthur,” he thought to himself while eating his steak and kidney pie.  “Eggsy Unwin the Arthur of the Kingsman.

            It still seemed so unreal to him.  He kept expecting that the last year was a dream that he would wake up in bed next to that Sweedish princess that he was having such great sexual fun with.  But no, he was here in Harry Hart’s flat and he was still the new Arthur. 

            After he had finished eating, he took his plate to the sink where his mother continued to clean up both the dishes as well as what was left over of Daisy’s little food fun. 

            Eggsy headed back up the stairs to his computer where the messages from Mark were still blinking. 

GreenEggs101189:  I’m back.

CountryGent91060:  Welcome back, Eggsy.  You still want to come out here to meet me?

GreenEggs101189: Of course I do.  I know you live somewhere in Kentucky but I don’t really know where. 

CountryGent91060:  A little town called ‘Shallow Ditch’ just north of Frankfort. 

Green Eggs101189:  How will I find you?

CountryGent91060:  Look for a bar called ‘Maggie’s Roadhouse’.  It’s the local hangout.  You’ll find me there. 

            With that, Eggsy’s heart grew wings and flew above all his woes, worries and troubles. 

* * *

            No matter how many times Eggsy had traveled around the world as a Kingsman, the jetlag was the hardest thing to get over.  He often asked Merlin to come up with a way to fix it but, as Merlin often told him, “I may be good with weapons and such.  But I’m no miracle worker.”  So, Eggsy had to suffer through it the old fashioned way. 

            Even though he was off-duty he was still dressed in his Kingsman standard issue suit.  After all, you never know when you might be called into action at a moment’s notice.  This was especially true as the new Arthur. 

            Before he had set off on this jet setting adventure of his, he told Roxy that he was going to America to look into something.  He didn’t say what but he would have his phone with him in case of any kind of emergency that would come up. 

            After the four hour plane ride on the Concord, Eggsy took the next flight from New York to Frankfort, Kentucky.  During the flight, he did find it peculiar that Mark was living in the exact same state as the place where Harry had met his end at the hands of Valentine.  Did fate have a very weird sense of humor?  Or was this a real huge coincidence? 

            Eggsy tried to take his mind off of it by watching movies on his phone. 

            After the plane landed, he rented a car and drove north from Frankfort to Shallow Ditch.  Driving an American car with the steering wheel on the left side of the vehicle was a jarring experience in itself for Eggsy.  He had to smirk and make the snarky note in his mind of why there are so many accidents in America: they have the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car. 

            Of all the places that he had visited in his time as a Kingsman, this had to be the most backwater place in America that he had come across.  If it weren’t for the signs as well as Google Maps that marked out that he was driving up to Shallow Ditch he would have missed it completely.  Most of the main buildings were on one side of the road, a small movie theater that was in major disrepair, a bunch of churches, corner stores and a small school.  On the other side were farm fields. 

Then there it was:  Maggie’s Roadhouse.  A one floor building with a red sign hanging over the front: 

MAGGIE’S ROADHOUSE

            There were a few open parking spots since it was still early afternoon.  So it wasn’t necessarily time to start drinking heavily, at least not yet.  Getting out of the car and taking his umbrella, Eggsy hoped to God that this place had coffee. 

            Stepping inside, he was bathed in the smell of stale beer and cigarettes.  The smell was a lot more rank than the pubs that Eggsy would often visit.  And he also heard about how American beer was really watered down compared to what he was used to.  So now was the moment of truth. 

            He looked around the bar and saw a few men in flannel shirts and jeans.  One of them had a shirt with the Confederate flag across it and was wearing a camouflage trucker’s hat.  Eggsy had heard the stereotype but he never thought that he’d see it this upclose, like seeing a tiger in a zoo.  Only this time there would be no bars separating him from this wild animal.  He saw several of these men turning around to look at him and they looked at him much like one would look at an albino tiger in the wild: with curiosity. 

            Walking up to the bar, Eggsy was met with a very heavyset woman who was wearing clothes that made her look like some kind of flowery tent.  Her unkempt hair was wavy and black and her face was saggy and in disarray. 

            “What’ll ya have, stranger?”  She asked. 

            Eggsy couldn’t help but feel like the stranger who wandered into town in some old western movie. 

            “Do you have any coffee?”  Eggsy asked. 

            “You’re really not from ‘round here are ya?”  She asked. 

            “No, I’m not,” Eggsy said not feeling the need to reveal country of origin. 

            “Well, as long as you got money to pay.  Don’t matter where ya from.” 

            Eggsy took out a twenty that he had gotten from currency exchange and laid it on the counter. 

            “Coming right up,” She smiled and that smile seemed to make her disheveled appearance melt very slightly.  “What brings ya to these parts?”

            “I’m meeting someone.  A man by the name of Mark.” 

            “Mark?”  The woman asked, “I know a Mark.  Lived here for about a year.  Weird fella.  Same accent as you.  Wandered into town with a gunshot wound to the head and wearing a suit of all things.” 

            Hearing that, Eggy’s heart began to skip several beats and he began to listen more and more to what the woman had to say. 

            “Doc Hauge took him in and fixed him up,” She continued while pouring the coffee to a carafe.  “He looked pretty banged up.  He had stab wounds and that nasty gunshot wound to the head.  Doc said it went right through his eye and out his skull.  Should have killed him but the guy was walking.  No one could figure out who he was.  He had no I.D. or nuthin’ on him.  And he couldn’t remember who he was.  Police report was filled out but no one claimed next of kin.”

            It couldn’t be the same Mark that he spoke to for the past year or so, as Eggsy had reasoned.  But it had to be.  Mark never said much about his past, just that there wasn’t really anything remarkable about it.  Was he lying or hiding the fact that he didn’t remember?  And if that was the case why didn’t he tell him? 

            “Do you know where I can find him?”  Eggsy asked desperate to hear the answers himself. 

            “He’s working with Doc Hauge and they should be in shortly.” 

            She then brought out a large carafe of coffee and a mug.  Eggsy picked it up and headed over to the table opposite of the door.  The whole thing seemed far too good to be true.  He was in Kentucky near the place where Hart had lost control thanks to Valentine’s experiment and lost his life thanks to Valentine.  Would he look and find Harry Hart coming through that door?  It seemed so much like what it would be. 

            “Hey, stranger,” The woman at the bar called out, “What’s your interest in Mark?”

            “He’s a friend I met online,” Eggsy said, “This is my first time meeting him.” 

            “Sure,” the woman said before going back to her duties at the bar. 

            Eggsy began to pour himself a cup of coffee and started to pout in sugar and creamer that were set up at the table.  Odd things to have set up at a bar but everything about this place and this situation were weird like some kind of Lewis Carol/Kafka-esque dreamscape.  Everything was fitting into place far too easily.  He didn’t know what Mark looked like because the man said he didn’t have a camera.  Was it because he really was Hart and didn’t want Eggsy to see his face?  Or was he ashamed of his appearance?  The questions were tearing at him and he wished Mark would show up. 

            Just then he heard the door open and the bright light of the sun did a backlight effect on the person standing at the door.  Eggsy tried to cover his eyes in the hopes of seeing who it was that was standing there but the figure walked closer and closer to him and as soon as the door closed and his eyes readjusted to the dim light of the bar he was met face to face with all his hopes, dreams, aspirations and nightmares in one look. 

            He saw the face of him. 

            Harry Hart was looking down at him with that aged look but one of his eyes was covered in an eye patch and he was wearing a pair of roughed up jeans and a red flannel shirt. 

            “Eggsy?”  He asked

            Eggsy gave no thought to what he was doing.  He bolted up from his seat and threw his arms around the man and squeezed him tight to him. 

            “Eggsy,” the man wheezed, “Let go, I need to breathe.” 

            He complied with the man’s wishes and then leaned in and kissed him.  His lips pressing against the man he had come to love over the course of the year.  When he pulled back, the sheer haze of his love was louder than the audible groans of disgust that emanated from the room. 

            “Eggsy,” he whispered, “This is not the place for that.  The guys don’t know about you and me.” 

            “Harry, it’s me,” Eggsy whispered. 

            “Harry?”  Mark asked, “My name is Mark, Eggsy.  You know that.” 

            “No, your name is Harry Hart.  You’re a Kingsman.”  

            “Kingsman?”  Mark asked sounding very puzzled

            “Hey, Mark!”  A very thick burly voice called out. 

            Mark (Or rather Hart as Eggsy knew it had to be) turned around in a very timid and frightened sort of way like a willow bending in the breeze.  The voice belonged to one of the flannel dressed men.  He was towering over Eggsy and Hart, with his barrel chest and stomach sticking out and his name tag reading “Earl” on it and his camouflage trucker’s hat having the confederate flag on it. 

            “Mark, ya’ll didn’t tell us you were a fag,” the man named Earl said while three other men in the bar came up behind him. 

            Eggsy knew where this was going.  How he had faced men like this before in a similar setting. 

            “Now, now, Earl,” Mark said trying to quell the situation, “I don’t want any trouble today.” 

            “We don’t like faggots around here, Mark.  You know that.”

            “Yes, I do, Earl,” Hart said, his voice trembling along with the rest of his body. 

            Seeing Hart like that confused Eggsy.  This was the man who took down men like this in a bar as casually as a man playing darts.  Yet, here he was trembling like a child in front of their overbearing parent. 

            “Bad enough they got the right to marry” Earl continued, “They’re sending the country we love to hell in a handbasket and now we have one here in our town.  That’s the last straw.  And it’s time we did somethin’ bout it.”  

            Earl brought up his hairy forearms and hairy hands.  He cracked his knuckles. 

            “Please, Earl,” Mark uttered begging the giant of a man to stop.  “Maggie?”

            He looked over at Maggie who watched it all with folded arms, “Sorry, Mark.  I agree with Earl.  Ain’t no place for your kind here.” 

            “Don’t apologize, Harry.” Eggsy said stepping in and looking up at the gorilla of a man, “Earl…I have a question for you.”

            “What, fag?”  Earl snarled. 

            Eggsy brought up his umbrella and hooked it onto his arm and headed towards the door.  Coming up to the door, his hands reached for the locks, slipping the deadbolt upward and seuring it. 

            “Have you not heard the phrase ‘manners maketh the man’?”  Eggsy asked turning around and taking his umbrella and setting it to the ground, holding it like a knight at the ready for battle. 

            “What does that have to do with this?”  Earl asked. 

            “Because, I do believe it is time for you to learn such manners.”  Eggsy said before bringing his umbrella and holding it like a rifle and pointing it at Earl. 

            “Mark,” Eggsy called out, “You may want to stand aside.” 

            Eggsy opened up the umbrella and activated the weapon system within it.  Inside he saw the green heads-up-display and the four men that were standing there looking very dumbfounded.  The current setting was “kill” but with a  flick of the handle it was switched to “stun” and he let lose the stunning shot at Earl who went down like a fifty pound sack of cement.  His impact made a good rumble through the wooden floor.  The three men remaining were just as confused by what had transpired and made their attack.  The first man that came at him, Eggsy quickly closed up the umbrella.  In a sweeping motion he brought the hook of the handle around the second man’s neck and then yanked it downward towards a nearby table.  The impact made a very good knock against his skull and rendering him unconscious. 

            The third man came at Eggsy with a drawn knife.  Acting on instinct, Eggsy reached out for the man’s wrists.  His one hand caught the wrist and he did a very sharp and quick turn, breaking the wrist and making him drop the knife.  He then took the man’s whole arm and made him do a forward-flip which sent him flying onto his back.  With the assailant on his back, Eggsy came down with a punch to his face knocking him out cold like the first three. 

            Eggsy turned around to face the final one who had brought out a handgun and took aim at the Kingsman.  But he was soon trembling all over and fell, first to his knees and then flat onto his face.  Behind him was Harry Hart who was holding out his right fist where upon the pinkie finger of that hand was his Kingsman ring. 

            He looked down at the fallen assailant and then at the ring on his hand.  His face seemed so bewildered by what had transpired but then the bewilderment started to melt away with familiarity.  Just like seeing a face that was a stranger and soon the dots were connecting, the pieces were falling into place and the memories were coming back. 

            “Eggsy?”  Mark had asked. 

            “Harry?”  Eggsy said looking at his friend, his teacher, friend and lover. 

            “Harry?”  Mark asked again and then looked down at the floor and back to Eggsy, “Yes….Harry Hart.” 

            Eggsy could only smile and walk up to him, wrapping his arms around the one that was once lost but was now found again. 

            “I have so much to tell you,” He whimpered into his flannel. 

            “I know you do,” Hart whispered, “But first, let’s have tea.  I was getting sick of the coffee this place serves.”