mission thirty nine ~ eggsy unwin

a realization, and a tragedy

[a/n: hey guys this chapter is a long one but it's very jam-packed. there is graphic details of violence in this chapter, but its fairly obvious what happens if you've seen the movie so you can skip it if it makes you squeamish. that being said, enjoy!]

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The stairs squeak slightly as I climb them, slowly. The voices of my father and Eggsy carry down to where I now stand still, mid-way up the stairs. They don't know I'm here, which in turn makes me feel like a little kid spying on their parents, something I did all the time as a child as I prepared myself for my Kingsman life. 

"My first mission. Foiled the assassination of Margaret Thatcher." My father says, his voice muffled behind the closed door. 

I continue to sneak up the stairs, listening to them as I ascend in silence. 

"Not everybody'd thank you for that one." Eggsy responds with a smirk in his voice. 

I'm at the top of the stairs now. My bedroom is right next to my father's office, so I quickly go inside and close the door. On my desk there's a glass from a few days ago, which I grab. I place the rim against the wall between the two rooms, and put my ear against it, enabling me to hear what's being said clearly without being caught. 

Before getting all the spy gadgets, I had to learn to be a spy without it. Listening to my parent's top secret discussions was my favourite past time. 

"...nobody thanked me for any of them. Front page news on all these occasions was celebrity nonsense. Because it's the nature of Kingsman that our achievements remain secret." My father continues, and I can even hear his pacing. 

 "A gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times: when he's born, when he marries, and when he dies. And we are, first and foremost, gentlemen." 

Eggsy sits down heavily in what I imagine is my father's armchair. "That's me fucked, then. Well, it's like Charlie said, I'm just a pleb."

"Nonsense." My father says firmly. "Being a gentleman has nothing to do with the circumstances of one's birth. Being a gentleman is something one learns."

"Yeah, but how?"

"Alright, first lesson. You should have asked me before you took a seat. Second lesson. How to make a proper martini."

These boys and their martinis. I shake my head with a grin. 

"Yes, Harry."

The office door opens and I hear them descending the stairs quickly, Eggsy's voice is loud with excitement at the idea of alcohol in his future. 

I turn back to face my bedroom, placing the glass down. It's never been anything special. When I was younger I used to hang up posters of my favourite characters from my favourite spy movies. The room would be filled with my fantasies. Then I became a spy and I realized its not as exciting as it looks. It's all big old men with big old egos thinking they know everything. 

Well, not always. There are a few gems within them. Merlin, my father sometimes, even Arthur can be alright occasionally, though most of the time he gets on my nerves. 

I collapse onto my bed, staring blankly at the grey ceiling. I was the most naive child imaginable. I thought being a spy was all about glory and cool technology and guns and saving the world. In reality it's the most dangerous job in the world.

I'm sitting at the dining table doing my Kingsman homework when my father walks in from work. I see him and my eyes light up. 

"Hey, I need help with this question. I can see about three possible solutions to this scenario but I'm not sure which one would be the most efficient." I beckon him to come look at my paper but he stands immobile in the doorway.