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Wake Me Up Inside
To his way of thinking he was dead. Or dead in all the ways that mattered, if he was being more specific. His heart still beat, his limbs still moved, and his brain certainly still registered thoughts and feelings of the physical sort, but overall Harry Hart felt he was right in coming to the conclusion that he was simply a dead man walking. A killing machine that helped keep the wolves at bay, and who protected the innocents when it could, but a machine nonetheless. Case in point the mission he'd just come from, taking out a group of international human traffickers. He'd succeeded, of course he had, but he'd also stood in a room the size of a football pitch filled with the traffickers' victims and felt nothing. He'd been surrounded by pain and anguish at unimaginable levels, and while he had seen them as human, which was more than they'd been treated as such, the horror of what had been done to them just hadn't sunk in the way it should have. The horrors of the world had stopped sinking in for a while now. His ability to feel and empathize had slowly slipped through his fingers without Harry even noticing at first, so gradual had it happened.
And now, Harry recognized with what should have been fear, the odds of him recovering that part of himself weren't high.
He still played the part of the witty gentleman spy to perfect of course, and Harry was fairly sure that his fellow colleagues had no idea just how dead inside he was at this point and how much of everything he did was a role he was playing to keep them and the Kingsman shrinks at bay. Though Merlin was starting to pay him closer attention than normal, which Harry knew did not bode well for him in the future. The Scotsman had known him long enough to see the slight differences that betrayed just how thin his normal façade was becoming.
And it was thinking about the past, about the man he'd used to be, that had brought Harry here, to this London street known for its nightlife. The building just a short distance away from his parked car, and his intended destination, was a piece of his past that he hadn't visited in ages. A club that catered to the upper classes and was friendly towards same sex couples, even back then. He'd been a regular visitor back in his late twenties and thirties, and had spent many a pleasurable evening there. Sometimes he'd gone home with another man to enjoy his downtime in between missions that much more, while other times he'd gone simply to remind himself that life went on despite the evils of the world. Either way, back then he'd most certainly felt alive, on the dance floor and afterwards.
Tonight he came for sex. It was as simple as that.
Paying for sex would be too impersonal, not to mention Harry did have enough of his old self, or at least the memory of the man he'd been in him, to find the idea of sleeping with someone being paid to touch him, potentially forced through circumstances rather than an honest liking for the profession, nauseating thanks to his last mission. But the idea of sex itself, of losing himself in another body…that did appeal to Harry in the sense that it at least struck him as a way to at least try and reconnect with what was left of his human self.
Unfortunately, getting out of the car seemed like too much effort at the moment since he could see, from the line of people waiting to get into the place, that it was still frequented mainly by those young enough to now be his children. And he was far too old and tired to spend the night listening to what passed for music these days, surrounded by young men and women whose greatest concerns were the latest fashion, drugs, and sex partners. He'd been a fool to come here.
Hell, even if he could find someone in the place willing to have sex with him, they'd likely either be after his money or looking for a daddy. And just no to that. Hell no.
So Harry remained where he was, sitting in his car, knowing that he really should just leave but unable to quite work up the…energy to turn the car back on and drive away. So instead he watched the people in his vicinity, mentally summing them up, breaking them down, figuring out who they were by the way they dressed and behaved. A mental exercise that gave him something to do aside from think about himself and what he'd become.
After about fifteen minutes of amusing himself that way, not that he was really amused, Harry's roving gaze landed on a male youth walking away from the club towards him, a chav judging from the hideous clothing he was wearing. Kids today, really.
But regardless, this 'gentleman' was annoyed about something judging by the way he was walking and holding himself, an annoyance that would only likely grow given the two other gentlemen who were coming after the boy with body language that said they meant the boy they were following harm. Which would also suggest that they might be responsible for the chav's bad mood in the first place to Harry's way of thinking.
None of his business, true, but he also had nothing better to do at the moment. And Harry had no desire to see the boy beaten up because he'd made the mistake of hitting on one of their girls or they just didn't like the idea of a chav breathing the same air as them, if that was the case. He'd get a sense of what was going on first, Harry decided, since for all he knew the first boy had done something deserving of having his arse handed to him.
Opening the car door Harry got out and around the car, stepping onto the pavement just as the first of the two men he'd already judged to be upper middle class caught up with the chav, grabbing the other boy's upper arm in a hold guaranteed to bruise.
For a moment, and then the chav was wrenching his arm free and delivering a hard punch to the boy's kidney that had him stumbling back but remaining on his feet.
"Keep your fucking hands off me!"
"Fuckin chav!"
"Back off or I'll beat both your ugly mugs in. Not even your daddies' will av enough scratch ta ave someone put em back ta gether again when I'm done, ya get me?"
The threat, spoken so harsh and coldly had the two men stumbling back a little, which said something about the death glare the other boy must be sending them too.
"We didn't invite you with us for free." The uninjured one hissed, the quietness of the night allowing the wind to easily carry the words to Harry's ears.
"Nah, you was thinkin my arse was yours for the taken and sharin cause I said yes. Well think a fucking gain. I ain't no rent boy, and ya can go fuck each other cause ya ain't gettin a piece of me."
The one who'd taken the punch thrusted a threatening finger out in the chav's direction. "Getting on your knees and serving your betters is all your kind is good for."
"I got better things ta do with my time than do the world a favor and bite off that shriveled thing off."
Now that had both would be assaulters taking a couple more wary steps back, the visual no doubt penetrating whatever alcohol or other substances might be flowing through their bloodstreams at the moment.
But since he'd heard more than enough to get a sense of the situation, and who was in the wrong here, Harry walked towards them as insults were thrown back and forth, the language the chav was using bad enough to make a marine blush, though the other two were holding their own in terms of not running out of disparaging things to say about the boy based on his origins and fashion sense.
Clearing his throat to gain their attention, Harry ignored the chav for a moment and focused on the boy's would be assailants. "Good evening. Might I suggest both you children return to making your parents ashamed to call you their offspring? As for this boy, the fact that he has the good sense to recognize what you are is no reason to hold it against him."
"Clear off, Old Man!"
"Lordship, actually. So again, I would recommend you both leave now. I assure you that any hand you might lay on my person will result in repercussions. Ones that will haunt you for the rest of your unfortunate existences, in fact."
Looking at each other in silent communication, Harry watched them debate their next move and feeling a little sorry when without another word the two turned on their heels and took off in the direction of the club. Probably for the best though, given the mood he was in. If sex was not on the menu, drawing blood would be a decent substitute.
"What did ya do that for?"
Ah yes, the other lad.
)
Turning around to meet the gaze of the boy he'd helped out, Harry evaluated him automatically from head to toe, just as he had the other two unremarkable cretins. The chav, as he'd been mentally calling him, was not at all what Harry had expected face wise. He actually had a rather charming, boyish look to him, though the scar through the eyebrow and the persona the boy sought to project kept him from appearing cute or harmless looking. The words to describe him accurately weren't coming to him, but Harry had the sense that the boy was the sort who'd be quite the different man than he currently pretended or had to be, had he only had the opportunities the boys who'd run off no doubt squandered daily.
"I asked you a question."
Remembering what that question was, Harry didn't bother to lie. "I had nothing better to do, and a gentleman does not turn a blind eye to someone in need of their help. It was a welcome distraction as well."
"Distraction from what? You wantin for your kid ta come out of the club or somethin?"
"I don't have children, no. I came here to remind myself of something, only to have it reinforce how foolish I was to think a trip to the past could in any way help me recapture what I've lost."
Intelligence gleamed from the boy's eyes, even in the thin light from the nearby streetlight. "What av you lost?"
He could have lied, it would have been easy enough given it was both a part of his profession and the boy had no knowledge of tells Harry wasn't even sure he still possessed at this point, but somehow, on this currently deserted street with a stranger Harry knew he'd never see again, he saw no reason to pretend.
"Myself. Like you, I'd imagine, society and the choices I have made, both willingly and unwillingly, have shaped me into a person that I no longer recognize anymore. I've become someone I don't wish to be, but am unable to stop being as I no longer know how to return to my previous self. I used to come to the club you just left, in my younger years, and was happy there. Coming here was supposed to be a chance to recapture that feeling, but it was a fool's errand. Hence my still being outside, since at least I still possessed enough sense not to even bother venturing inside." A pause. "And you? Why accept their invitation to come here?"
Silence long enough to suggest the boy wasn't going to answer, and then the younger man was moving over to lean against the side of Harry's car, Harry deciding to copy the action so that they leaned there side by side without looking at each other.
"I ain't…I ain't straight. I'm bi. But in my neighborhood, well I ain't never done more than look at a man there. I already got enough shite for bein a gymnast back when I was a lad, so it just made sense ta stick with birds, ya know? Since it weren't like I had ta pretend my interest or nothin. But I do want…and me mum, step dad and baby sister, they all went ta Dean's mum's place in the country, and I stayed behind. Figured if I went ta a place like this, where not nobody would know me…well I figured on dumping those gobshites once we got ta the club, lose them on the dance floor and find someone better. But it was a stupid plan. They all looked at me the same as those bastards."
"Their loss, I'm sure."
The boy turned his head to glance in his direction, the mischievous smirk on his face making Harry's eyebrows rise. "Seeing as I wouldn't know what the fuck I was doing, since I ain't never even snogged a bloke, that might be overly kind."
Chuckling, the roughness of it due to the genuineness of it, Harry inclined his head. "As I would imagine you've had quite a few young ladies grace your bed, I'm sure you have the basic idea."
The boy ducked his head. "Girls don't top though, now do they?"
Ah. Understanding what the boy was implying, and what he'd come here hoping for, Harry reached around to give the boy an automatic pat on the shoulder in sympathy. "Well in that case, the silver lining of this evening would be that at least you didn't end up with a…teacher who would put you off the process entirely with other men. Perhaps it's just my advanced age speaking, but the young men of your generation don't seem to possess patience, control, or selflessness when it comes to putting others before themselves. Ergo, they must be bloody awful in the sack."
The boy's good looking face became beautiful for a moment as he smiled widely at him in amusement. "You ain't that old, Bruv."
"I'm most certainly too old to be your brother."
"Not necessarily. I've got just over two decades on me half-sister, Daisy. Wot are you, early forties at most?"
"I'll be fifty in a little over a year."
"You're lookin bloody good for your age then. Like Colin Firth's sexier, more dangerous younger brother."
Not really sure how to take that, especially since he'd once been a great fan of that British actor back when he'd been a regular movie goer, Harry settled for thanking him for the compliment, since the boy had obviously meant it as one.
"So's you was gonna go in there and what…? Revisit your youth?"
Oddly enough, Harry felt comfortable enough to still be truthful. "Sex was my main goal. My working hypothesis was that nothing gets one more in touch with one's true self than sex or violence, and I've had enough of the latter currently."
"Military man, ain'tcha."
Surprised, Harry gave the boy a questioning look.
"I was trainin ta be a Marine for a bit. Shit appened so I had ta quit, but…I know a military man when I see one. And the way ya move and was lookin around, ya ain't no posh dandy who's never done nothin but sit on his arse all day and count his money."
"I see. Yes, for a time. Though in some way I feel as though I've never left."
"Me dad was military. Died when I was a kid."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks." Shoving his hands in his pockets the boy went back to studying his shoes, which on closer inspection had wings on them, which Harry wasn't sure what to make of.
"So wot ya gonna do now, since ya ain't goin in?"
"Go home, have a drink I suppose. Perhaps I'll pop in a movie, since you've put Mr. Firth in my head. Tthen go to bed. You?"
The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Go home too, I guess. Ain't no point in stickin round here."
"Do you require a lift home?" Seeing as the boy had listened to him without complaint, and had made this whole mess a little less wretched, giving him a ride seemed the least he could do.
"Car like yours, in my neighborhood? And if ya did, well word would get back ta Dean soon enough and he'd figure I was rentin myself out on the side and not givin im a piece of the pie. No good would come of that. Better I take the tube, though thanks for the offer."
"Your step father would be fine with you entering that particular profession?"
"Oh he's made it clear he thinks I should set up shop on Smith Street, he has. But I ain't doin that. Done plenty else I ain't proud of, and I ain't got nothing against those who do it, but I ain't lettin no one use me that way. Make me nothing but their toy and then trash ta toss away when they're finished with me. I'll go back ta the other stuff first."
"Sounds to me, then, that your step father is as in need of a thrashing as those cretins from earlier."
"Won't get no argument from me there, Guv."
Not knowing what else to say, it wasn't like there was anything he could do to change the boy's circumstances save for offer him money, which he was fairly sure the boy wouldn't take or would misconstrue, Harry settled for straightening up and turning to face the boy, who'd copied his actions. "Can I at least give you a ride partway there, then?"
"I suppose. Or…or we could go somewhere else."
The hesitant, almost shy way the boy spoke had Harry's instincts going on high alert as he asked the boy what he meant.
"You…well ya said why you was here, and I said why I was here. Seems ta me that…well that we could elp each other out, if ya was interested."