Eggsy, who had been pacing in the dining room, cursed and rushed out to greet Harry, putting himself between Harry and his Mum and sister without even realizing it.

"Ah, Eggsy!" Called Harry as soon as he caught sight of him. Eggsy stopped in his tracks. A part of him had honestly been expecting a wheelchair. But Harry was - well he wasn't back to normal, but he was upright, in a tailored suit. His hair was almost back to its familiar length, but he had brushed it differently than Eggsy was used to, probably to cover as much of the scar as possible. Harry was leaning slightly on a cane (Eggsy remembered that a large concern initially had been brain damage that affected Harry's left leg) but it appeared so natural with the suit that Eggsy hardly noticed that the umbrella had been switched out. He was proportioned differently too. Thinner somehow, while also looking like he'd put on weight. All his months of lying in a hospital bed had turned his muscle to fat, Eggsy supposed, and shitty hospital food had taken care of most of the fat.

"Hey Harry," Eggsy found himself hovering in front of the archway to the living room where his Mum and sister were, and started to move toward Harry.

"Eggsy?" Questioned his Mum. She had appeared, Rose on her hip, clearly nervous.

Eggsy stopped moving, turning so his back was to his Mum, and Harry would have to look around Eggsy to see them.

Harry, as a gentleman, had begun to move forward to reintroduce himself to the lady, but hesitated, reading Eggsy's body language.

"So, you're all still here, then?" He asked.

Eggsy hunched automatically, "Yeah, um, yeah, we were, just, couldn't find a place."

"Yes, well, quite understandable. No rush," Harry smiled, all gentleman, "on your own timeline, of course."

Right. Eggsy waited, still tense, but at the same time not really sure what he was waiting for.

"Now hold on, who is this? And what is this about us going somewhere, Eggsy?"

"You know him, Mum," said Eggsy, turning so his Mum wasn't blocked from Harry's view anymore.

Harry read this as a sign that he could move further into the house, and suggested, "Shall we move into the living room?"

Eggsy stood between them while his Mum and Harry occupied separate seats in the room, Harry continued, "Yes, I'm afraid we met under quite unfortunate circumstances, Mrs. Unwin…"

Eggsy had explained as much as he could to his Mum once he got back home after V-Day. He was working with the men Dad had been working with when he died, and his Mum would have to make her peace with that. Harry was the man who had got Dean off him after Eggsy'd stolen the car, and he'd also gotten Eggsy out of an 18 month prison sentence, no strings attached, and saved Eggsy from a royal beating down at the pub. He'd then been personally shot in the face by Valentine, the man behind the V-Day violence. Eggsy had allowed her to convince herself that Eggsy's age prevented him from coming into contact with the kind of violence which had lost him his Dad, and overall, his Mum took Harry's appearance much better than Eggsy had been willing to hope.

Harry headed upstairs to his room shortly afterward. Eggsy didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. He was worried that they've made Harry feel unwelcome in his own home, but at the same time listening to Harry slowly struggle up the stairs, pausing for breath every few steps, Eggsy felt his muscles relaxing.

Maybe Harry was just tired. Or he wanted to be alone after months of constant hospital supervision.

Maybe Eggsy should go check on him? Like, maybe he needed to be woken up every half-hour so he didn't go into a coma? That was head injuries, right?

Eggsy heard the thump of Harry's new cane on the landing above him. Done with the stairs then. No, he decided, he wouldn't bother Harry more than he needed to. Harry was probably pissed that they were here still. The best thing Eggsy could do was get them somewhere else to go before Harry lost his patience.

Eggsy relaxed, slowly. Harry hadn't seemed angry. They would just stay out of his way, and it would be like they weren't even there. Eggsy had played that game for years with his Mum's boyfriends. And hell, now he was an actual spy. No problem.

{ - }

Eggsy was startled awake by the sound of his sister's new, 150-piece Lego set being upturned on the surely expensive hardwood floors of Harry's dining room.

He was lying across the settee, with a blanket draped over his torso, and his hat safely on a nearby end table.

When had he fallen asleep?!

He pulled himself off the couch and launched himself at his sister. His Mum had evidently taken off his shoes while he slept – some super spy he turned out to be, not noticing – and he slipped on the hardwood floors and landed on his back with a thud.

"Rose, no! Come on, let's get them back in the bag, yeah?"

"You up, then?" Called his Mum from the kitchen.

"Yeah," he said, "Look, Mum, Rose can't play with this stuff here. It's all over the place – Look!"

"Oh, she's not doing any harm, is she?" His Mum came out from the kitchen with a couple of plates. They'd brought their own paper ones, Harry's china remained untouched in the cabinets.

"Yeah, but I just feel like we shouldn't have her toys spread all around the house, you know?" He kept shoveling Lego's back into the bag, but Rose apparently stopped enjoying the game and began to cry.

"No, no, no, no, shhhh. Come on, come on, Rosie," Eggsy made soothing noises while he pried a Lego block from his sister's tiny fist. "Mum! Come on! She'll wake him up!"

His Mum, finished setting the table, headed back into the kitchen, giving Eggsy a little pat on the head as she passed him.

"Who, Harry? He's awake already, dear. Said he'd be down in a tick."

Eggsy was on his feet and at the kitchen door before she finished talking. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Well I went up with a cuppa tea to let him know dinner was about done. Here," she handed Eggsy a vat of mashed potatoes, gesturing to the kitchen.

"You woke him up?!" Said Eggsy incredulous.

"Yeah. Can't eat without him, can we? And I didn't want it to go cold waiting. Now go on!"

His Mum knew Harry wasn't an actual tailor. But she probably thought he was some kind of bureaucrat. Someone who worked for the dangerous people. She had no idea what Eggsy had seen Harry do. Eggsy knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't help but turn his mind to the bloody scene Harry had left behind in Kentucky.

Eggsy heard the thump of Harry's cane on the landing above. He whirled around, trying to see the room as Harry would see it.

Rose had emptied out her Lego's while Eggsy wasn't looking and had been industriously spreading them across the floor with an efficiency which would have impressed Eggsy in a different situation. Eggsy's own shoes and hat were cluttering up the living room and the blanket he'd been using was half on the couch and half on the floor. The dining table was set as best his Mum knew how. Eggsy would have thought it looked fine if it weren't for his time training at the Manor.

The man thumping his way down the stairs noticed if you sat without permission. Brough-style dress shoes were unacceptable under any circumstances, no matter how polished, and Eggsy stood in the middle of that man's dining room in mismatched socks, holding a steaming bowl of powder-based mashed potatoes.

His Mum bustled past him, leaning around the corner to call up the stairs, "You need any kind of a hand, Harry?"

"MUM!" Eggsy hissed.

"No, no, I'm quite alright. Thank you," Harry appeared around the corner, winded but smiling at Eggsy's Mum, "Sooner I get use to them the better, eh?"

Eggsy's Mum smiled, and turned back to Eggsy. "Oh, Eggsy, I thought you were helping Rose clean this lot up? And put that down on the table. Be careful about the place mat! We don't want to mark up this lovely table, do we?"

Eggsy complied and started sweeping Lego's out of Harry's path with his foot.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not looking at Harry, who he felt staring at him.

Eggsy's Mum brought out a steaming bowl of peas and a plate of greasy sausages, oil seeping into the paper towel she'd covered them with.

Eggsy spared a glance at Harry as they all arranged themselves around the table.

"Mrs. Unwin," Harry began, arranging his napkin neatly in his lap, "may I say, this smells divine. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for a home cooked meal!"

His Mum blushed, "Oh, it was nothing, really."

"Not at all, I want you to know how much I appreciate your thinking to include me."

"Yeah, wait 'till you taste it," quipped Eggsy, to spare his Mother from another compliment. She didn't know what to do with them, and Eggsy knew from experience that Harry wouldn't quit until he felt his point had been accepted.

He remembered suddenly when Dean had once called this very meal shit, and he'd had Eggsy's Mum blow him under the dinner table to make up for it.

"Nonsense, I'm sure it will taste as good as it smells. Never take a home-cooked meal for granted, Eggsy."

Eggsy nodded, and swallowed his first mouthful. "S'good, Mum."

Down at the end of the table she was beaming.

{ - }