Disclaimer: I don't own Kingsman: The Secret Service.

o

Breaking Point

o

o

When Eggsy finally returned to the aircraft, Merlin only raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything. The young man had after all just saved what was left of the world. While he had made merry with the Swedish princess, Merlin had contacted associates all over the planet, trying to assess the situation. Even though Valentine had not succeeded, he had managed to wreak plenty of havoc as it was. The SIM Card had been distributed with astonishing efficiency, which meant that the few minutes during which the signal had been broadcast had been enough to affect most public services, traffic and utility infrastructure worldwide. It would take a while to restore everything to normal function, all apart from the considerable overall damage and the lives which were actually lost.

Eggsy's complacent grin slowly faded as he watched the main screen over Merlin's shoulder; the wizard had hacked into the footage of various CCTV feeds in larger cities, and what they saw looked like how Eggsy had always imagined the remnants of civil wars.

"What are we going to do now?" he asked, sounding every bit as young as he was now that the adrenaline was wearing off and the reality of what was waiting outside began to take shape.

"We'll pick up Roxy and head home," Merlin replied. "I need to get in touch with all who are left of us, make sure our existence is still a secret. Then we'll see what needs doing." He was silent for a moment: "And there's the matter of Harry, of course," he then said softly. "We can't leave him there."

The grief in his voice was unmistakable, and for the first time ever since Valentine had shot Harry, it occured to Eggsy that he didn't even know about the precise nature of Harry's and Merlin's relationship, whether they had been close. Judging from how forlorn Merlin looked right then, they had.

He tried to speak around the lump which was suddenly obstructing his throat, but when he had finally managed to swallow it, Merlin had already gotten to his feet and disappeared in the cockpit, probably not ready to deal with the matter there and then.

Eggsy lingered for a moment, unsure whether he should follow the wizard, but decided against it. Feeling bone tired now, he dropped into the nearest leather chair and closed his eyes for a moment; within minutes, he had dozed off.

The following few weeks passed quickly. Merlin, who out of sheer necessity had additionally taken on the position of Arthur for the time being, immediately set out to tackle the variety of tasks which were lying ahead. Several of the Kingsmen had been killed or injured, meaning the remaining ones were too busy with the aftermath of V-Day to find new recruits. As it was, they had to make do for a while; Merlin didn't have any spare time to train anyone anyway. Eggsy and Roxy were assigned to different jobs and barely saw each other; in between, Eggsy made sure that his mum and Daisy were settling into their new home as well as possible. None of the thugs Dean had called his mates knew where they lived now, and even though Eggsy was convinced that they wouldn't have to deal with them ever again, he was glad that his family was safe.

Whenever he entered HQ, Merlin was there, usually occupied with several things at once. Because of the multitude of problems which kept presenting themselves, they even had had to postpone Harry's funeral.

On the morning of the day it was finally scheduled to take place, about two months after V-Day, Eggsy entered HQ with a heavy heart. A general sense of mourning had been palpable ever since their world had been turned upside down on so many levels, but for Eggsy, an actual funeral made Harry's continued absence terribly real.

Slowly, the young man climbed out of the transit and made his way through the hall.

Merlin was sitting at his station as expected, concentrating on the incoming data. He was clean shaven and already dressed in a sombre black suit, but the strain of the past few weeks and possibly the prospect of what was lying ahead today were beginning to show, Eggsy thought. There were dark smudges underneath the wizard's eyes, and he held himself upright in a rigid way that certainly didn't manage to deceive anyone but telegraphed exhaustion instead.

Before Eggsy could make himself known, Roxy appeared at his elbow, carrying a steaming mug of tea; she gave her friend a brief smile, then proceeded past him and set the mug down on Merlin's desk. He glanced up at her with visible irritation: "Thank you," he said, making it sound like a question.

"You looked like you could do with some tea," Roxy said. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

Merlin stared at her for a moment: "I'm fine," he then said. "I appreciate your concern, but I can look after myself, all right?"

"Okay," Roxy said lightly. "So, did you? Sleep, I mean?"

Merlin sighed. For a moment, Eggsy feared he might lose his patience, but Merlin didn't. He seemed to sag a little instead, testimony of how the recent events had worn him down but also of how their relationships had slowly, but steadily changed during the past weeks: friendship might be too strong a word, but they were getting there, Eggsy mused. For Merlin to let down his guard like this in their presence, there had to be a certain amount of trust, after all.

The wizard now took off his glasses, closed his eyes and rubbed his face: "Yes, I did sleep," he muttered. "And now leave me alone, please, I really need to finish this before- before it starts."

Roxy wasn't one to accept defeat too readily, but she, just like Eggsy, seemed to sense that Merlin was close to breaking point, therefore she just mumbled that they'd see each other later and followed Eggsy down the hall.

"He lied," she said as soon as they were out of earshot, "I bet he wasn't even at home."

"You can't make him." Eggsy knew from experience how it felt to be at odds with the world around you and its normalcy; if going home and resting wasn't an option for Merlin currently, he should not have to.

"It's not healthy," Roxy said unhappily.

"Yeah, but his health isn't his primary concern right now, is it?"

"It should be. We need him too much, he can't afford to fall ill."

Despite himself, Eggsy grinned: Roxy had clearly developed a soft spot for their resident wizard.

Roxy rolled her eyes: "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. Just pulling your leg." It was admittedly easier to hide his own concern that way.

During the entire service, Merlin was as rigid as before, stony-faced in his grief and rather pale. His jaw was set so firmly that he almost looked grim. And why not, Eggsy thought, why not. It was a grey, rainy day, suitable for the occasion. Faced with the impossibility of the coffin which contained Harry's body, neither Roxy nor Eggsy could stop themselves from weeping.

The other Kingsmen who were present seemed sorrowful, but composed. Harry had obviously been well-liked, a notion which was strangely comforting. And yet- not for the first time, Eggsy wished he could undo what had happened. Not only for Harry's sake, but for all those lives which had been lost, for all those people who had had to bury someone they loved, or who had to come to terms with the fact that they had killed someone.

Eggsy wasn't sure whether he had loved Harry, since they had known each other only for such a brief amount of time, but he had certainly been a better mentor than Dean could ever have strived for. Even, he mused, a father figure rather than just a mentor.

He just wished Harry, other than his biological father, could have survived long enough to really get to know him.

That night, Eggsy was too agitated to lie down, and he couldn't bear being in Harry's house. After exchanging his suit for a pair of jeans and a hoody, he took J.B. for a walk and somehow ended up in Savile Row. In the closed shop, he sat down in one of the leather armchairs and felt himself slowly winding down. Outside, it was getting dark, and it was blissfully quiet. The shop smelled of cloth and wood, leather and polish of sorts. It was a smell which was immensely calming, conveying a sense of timelessness: no matter what happened, things were still unchanged in here, were done as they had always been done. One might think that nothing bad had transpired.

For a while, Eggsy dozed, but images of Harry kept haunting him, and at one point he got to his feet rather abruptly and paced around the room for a while, restless and annoyed. J.B., who had curled up under the chair, sleepily peered up at him and scrambled to his feet, sensing his master's agitation.

Out of a whim, Eggsy picked him up and headed towards the hidden escalator.

HQ seemed deserted, Merlin's station was only dimly illuminated by an array of screensavers. Good, Eggsy thought, Merlin had finally allowed himself a break then.

Aimlessly, he wandered around the corridors, J.B. trailing in his wake, sniffing here and there; being on these premises was strangely soothing, made Eggsy feel closer to Harry somehow; it was different here than in the house for some reason.

As he was passing by the small kitchen which nobody but Merlin ever used, he stopped abruptly; he had been wrong. Merlin hadn't gone home after all. He was currently leaning against the far wall staring at the floor, a mug seemingly forgotten forgotten in his hand. He had shed his suit jacket but hadn't changed otherwise, which only served to emphasize the very picture of loneliness. Eggsy suddenly felt like an intruder. While he was still debating whether he should quietly back away, J.B., having caught up with him only now, resolved the matter for him: whole body wagging, he bounded into the room to greet Merlin enthusiastically.

Startled out of his thoughts, Merlin slowly knelt down, set the mug on the floor and picked the little dog up. As far as Eggsy remembered, he had never done so before. Yet now he cradled the pug close, apparently not minding that J.B. was slobbering all over his face, and for a moment pressed his cheek into the soft fur. "Good boy," he muttered. "You're a good little guy."

Eggsy wondered whether Merlin might be drunk; silently, he entered the room, not wanting to disturb but equally concerned. A faint scent of alcohol made itself known indeed and got stronger as Eggsy approached the other man. Whatever was or had been in the mug definitely wasn't tea.

With a sigh, Merlin set J.B. down again: "It's not what it looks like," he said by way of greeting, yet instead of getting up, he sat down on the floor now, leaning back against the wall with a small groan.

Unsure what else to do, Eggsy lowered himself down opposite of him: "Looks like you had a drink," he said, cautiously. Apparently, he had been right about the state of the wizard's nerves.

"Yes," Merlin replied, his voice flat. "One drink. Nothing more. Just... a farewell." He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes close for a moment.

"How long have you known each other?" Eggsy asked, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

Merlin took a moment to answer: "Twenty-seven years. We were friends."

The truth was that they had been more than that; they had been all but brothers. In an organization which was rather conservative by tradition, Harry had been refreshingly different. While there had been something undeniably old-fashioned about him in certain ways, he was witty and charming and had a dry sense of humour which matched Merlin's own. Apart from that, he was loyal and a good friend.

After Merlin had been injured in an explosion and subsequently banned from most of the field work fourteen years ago, it had been Harry who had been there for him. Merlin had been temporarily blind, which was something he never wanted to have to experience again. He distinctly remembered waking up in a hospital bed, the dull sensation of severe physical discomfort making itself known despite the fog of morphine, soon followed by an immediate onset of panic when he realized he couldn't see, and how Harry's presence had continued to cut through the haze of it all, anchoring Merlin to a more welcome reality which didn't only consist of pain and fear and darkness.

Harry had helped him through recovery and the realization that he couldn't carry on as before even after regaining his sight, because his other injuries had been extensive. Without him, Merlin would probably have dropped out, but Harry had convinced him to stick to his job, had badgered Arthur to give him a chance, and he was grateful for it.

They had become increasingly close during the following years, and since neither of them had any family left and each of them was single (not by choice, of course, but it turned out that in reality, the opportunities for James Bond-like flings were rather rare, as were Bond girls), it had been of mutual benefit, preventing a lot of loneliness.

A secret agent knew which dangers he was accepting with the job, of course. The knowledge that one might not survive the next mission was ubiquitous, and Harry sometimes joked about it. Now that he was actually gone, however, Merlin couldn't believe it. Didn't want to, more importantly, for without Harry he couldn't imagine life to go on.

During the past weeks, he had not allowed himself to think about his friend too much, had clung to his current tasks without pausing once. He had managed to attain a certain order in all the chaos, had provided help and solutions, had had to witness a lot of devastation and emotional break downs in the process. He had not, however, come to terms with his own grief, which was why he hadn't been prepared for the funeral, for the blow to see the coffin lowered into the earth, the finality of the whole matter. He had buried loved ones before, a long time ago, but he had repressed the immensity of the pain. A mistake, he realized now, because he hadn't been able to steel himself.

"Who are you kidding?" he heard Harry's amused voice in his head. "Try all you might, it wouldn't have changed a thing." Merlin's ears were ringing with the silence left in its wake.

J.B., who had in the meantime scuttled around the room to sniff, now stopped by his master in the hopes of a treat; when nothing was forthcoming, he climbed into Eggsy's lap and curled up in it. Merlin looked at the dog with a pained smile which then turned into a grimace. Tears ran down his cheeks and he let them, unable to check his emotions any longer.

Eggsy felt his own eyes prickle and moisten. He had both privately and at the funeral cried for Harry, which he wasn't ashamed of. To see Merlin like this, however, was painful in a way Eggsy had rarely experienced; he had never witnessed such a quiet despair. Where he came from, tears usually were accompanied by very vocal drama, whereas Merlin barely made a sound. His whole frame was shaking and his tears kept running down his face, and that was most of it. It was heart-breaking. Eggsy felt helpless, but there really wasn't anything he could do, therefore he waited. After what might have been half an hour however, the tears hadn't lessened a bit, and Eggsy began to worry.

Quietly and not at all sure about what he was going to do, he lifted J.B. off his lap and crouched down next to the wizard: "Merlin," he said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, mate."

He wasn't sure whether the other had heard him, therefore he continued to talk to him in a low voice: "It's okay," he murmured, "I know how it feels. Take your time."

After a few minutes, Merlin eventually began to breathe more deeply, and the weeping slowly but steadily abated. In the end, he only sat quietly, depleted and silent. He looked younger without his glasses, vulnerable.

Eggsy gently squeezed his shoulder: "Shouldn't you get off the floor?" he asked.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment: "Yeah," he then said, hoarsely. "Sorry, Eggsy, I'm sorry. I usually don't lose control like this."

"It's okay, mate," Eggsy replied, relieved that the worst seemed over. "I understand."

Slowly, they got to their feet. "Why did you come back here?" Merlin asked, voice still not quite his own.

Eggsy shrugged: "There's too much Harry in his house, I guess."

"Ah." A faint smile ghosted over Merlin's exhausted features. After a moment of silence, he squared his shoulders: "Well. I should go home."

"Yeah," Eggsy muttered. "Me, too."

"Despite the Harry-ness of it all?" Merlin meant to sound casual, though his voice betrayed him at the name, giving out for the fraction of a second. Too soon, too raw, Eggsy thought, but he appreciated the effort: "I guess I can't avoid it forever. Part of him will always be around, probably."

Merlin nodded wearily.

"You okay?" Eggsy asked tentatively as they walked towards the transit, and Merlin, not for the first time, understood what Harry had seen in him, apart from his obvious skills.

"Yes," he said. "No. But I'll get home and I'll try to sleep, and tomorrow will be another day full of work."

Eggsy nodded: "Sounds about right. It's how we did it after my dad died. One day after the other, and don't think of the next birthday, or the next Christmas."

Merlin looked at him and marvelled at how young he actually was, and how much he had already been through. Nothing substitutes for experience, he thought, wondering where he had read that.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Can I ask you something?" Eggsy wanted to know once they had sat down in the compartment and where whisked away towards the city. He didn't wait for an answer: "What's your real name?"

Merlin smiled, a genuine, if tired, smile. The world was going to be a different place without Harry, and he didn't think anyone compared. But there were others, like Eggsy and Roxy, who seemed to care about him, and that thought was immensely comforting, if not yet making him look forward to Christmas.

"Alan," he replied.

"Hm," Eggsy looked at him, "Merlin suits you better."

"I'm glad to hear that." Neither of them mentioned the fact that Eggsy was still going by his name rather than assuming a knight's identity. Somehow, 'Galahad' had seemed out of the question, especially when Harry hadn't even been buried.

They'd have to tackle the issue soon, along with finding a new Arthur, but not right now. Merlin closed his burning eyes and leaned his head back, grateful that this long, horrible day was finally over. He only wanted to sleep and forget for a while; repressing matters had been wearisome. He wished he could turn time forward, maybe a year or two; the pain would have lessened by then. As it was, he'd have to get through each day after the next, just as he had told Eggsy.

"We'll get there," he murmured, unaware that he had said it out loud and feeling his sadness like a cloak around him. "By degrees."

o

o

The End

Thank you for reading. I'm not a native English speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes.

The quote "Nothing substitutes for experience" is from Paulo Coelho.