Harry is used to seeing sights every day that he wishes he didn't. Sometimes it was on mission, before he retired (only 5 years ago, he may have been approaching 60 then and still suffering side effects from his eye being shot out, but he didn't care, missions were missions, screw medical who thought otherwise).

Sometimes, however, it's on home soil instead, like what happened last year. He has an eye for the small things, obviously, which is why it's so easy to pick up Eggsy's acting differently.

It had been subtle. Just over a few months, but Harry knows his partner and as he watches the 39-year-old humming to Elton John in their shared bathroom, he knows something is wrong and that rather worries him.

Eggsy had been off for a while now. Forgetting places they were going, things they had scheduled to do weeks before and sometimes even people they met and such.

Just the other day, he'd completely forgotten his contact's name for his last mission (in which the current Merlin, a whip-smart woman named Rosie had to remind him of several times) and almost blew their cover, which was never his style.

It was not Eggsy behaviour and even his mother and sister (who was now in university) had noticed the same, their concerns when Eggsy left the room fielded to himself, who mostly brushed it off given his missions abroad were stressful and time-consuming.

He could no longer use that excuse, as those few moments became more frequent. Dementia, however, was far from the list of things that he could think would be the cause.

He could only watch as his stoic partner of 14 years' eyes filled with fear at the diagnosis, his heart plummeting as the Kingman's resistant doctor talked about options, medications, treatments to give them more time. Before it really got worse.

They thought they would have forever after Valentine and Poppy happened.

Turns out they would only have less than a decade, if that, given treatments were not 100%.

Harry hated it. His heart was breaking, blackened by the fact that Eggsy, his beloved and best friend (not counting Lachlan of course), was dying slowly and he couldn't fix it.

He tries to put a plan in place, to make it easier for him as the months drag on and Eggsy starts losing more things, like the ability to get himself clothed properly, but his partner, ever the fireball no matter his plight, always resists.

He asks about treatment, but finds the newly prescribed pills in the waste basket 2 days later.

He talks about moving and actually finds them a nice house nearer to Eggsy's mother and sister that can be adapted to fit them as a whole. Eggsy looks at it once and refuses.

It all eventually ends in an argument in front of the fireplace, where they scream at each other until Eggsy throws a plate and collapses to the ground, weeping as Harry, his grey beard wet with tears, holds him tightly till the storm passes.

It's only in bed does Eggsy speak again, voice rough with heartbreak. "I can't do this anymore, Har. I want to be remembered for the person I was, not who I'm going to become."

Harry knows this. Knows what has to be done, despite everything.

The episodes of forgetfulness get worse. Eggsy also leaves the house more frequently and gets lost, so much so Harry now comes with him everywhere so he can watch him.

They have a quiet getaway in Scotland in the middle of it all, road-tripping it up there to visit Lachlan and drink whiskey and smoke and forget their problems for a while. The Statesman (all of them retired now mostly, same as he and most of the original teams that didn't die in the missile strikes were) are somehow make it across the pond to the bloody mansion that their friend has created for himself and it's nice, for a while, to talk with friends and forget that things were not as well as they seemed.

Eggsy's episodes are seemingly watered down for the week they spend there, but he still keeps an eye on him just in case. He's not glass, but he'll treat him like he is if he has to.

One day however, their lives change again, when Harry gets the post and finds a parcel within. Inside is the scariest sight imaginable. A bottle of morphine, ready and primed to kill.

His heart skips several beats and he isn't sure if his sight is blurring from tears that are coursing through him and threatening to spill or from him losing oxygen because he can't breathe at the sight. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but it's here and it's not going away.

He's ready. He's ready and willing, but Harry...he still isn't prepared for it.

They'd talked about this. Unwillingly on the part of Harry, but they did talk. It took nights of pretty much strapping him down on his partner's part to do it, but they had to tell the truth soon enough.

Eggsy, despite their delusions, was getting worse.

"Why can't you just listen to me? I can barely think anymore. My whole 'ead is empty, Harry."

"Look, I don't care. I can do this. /We/ can do this. We still have time. I'm here to help you get dressed, to eat, to travel, to wipe your fucking arse- I'm here with you, until the end."

"I'm losing control, Har. Control is the only thing I have now, other than you and I can't keep you doing this much longer to yourself. You're torturing yourself, trying to help me."

He looks into his partners eyes and he can see he's being genuine and it fucking hurts.

"I can't let you leave me, Eggsy. The world needs you. Kingman needs you. /I/ need you."

"I won't even need /myself/ soon. I won't even remember who I am. It needs to stop now."

There's a lot of crying on their parts, leading up to it. Harry holds Eggsy on the rougher nights where all he can do is weep into his chest and Harry stares at the ceiling quite numb while Eggsy doesn't see Harry sob under the flow of the shower or sink when he can get away.

There are also nights where Eggsy finds sleep and Harry's backside finds the chair across from the bed, just watching him as tears emerge here and there.

It's easier for him not to see the man cry, but it doesn't mean Eggsy doesn't know he has. It hurts him that he makes the younger man feel guilty, watching him across the room as he makes dinner and seeing his red stained eyes in the glowed reflection of the backwash.

He knows it's time, one day, a little while into the future when he comes home from grocery shopping and finds Eggsy standing in the hallway, a look on his face all too familiar.

He's seen that look of determination only a few times, but it speaks volumes to him now.

Nodding once, he watches as Eggsy folds himself into him and rough, but loving kisses are exchanged, a few tears from both men thrown in-between as they grip onto each other, looking into the other eyes before they let go.

While Eggsy heads upstairs, bottle in hand, Harry puts the food away, like it's nothing, like his whole heart isn't breaking in a million pieces and the shards aren't burying themselves deep in his soul as he just stands there, weeping silently like everything is normal.

He knows that he's gone when there is a painful rippling through his body and he slides down the cabinetry unto the tiled floor, sitting there for hours, just numb and distraught.

Going upstairs takes courage and the sight the greets him makes his legs wobble.

Eggsy looks as if he's asleep, half under the covers of their shared bed for so long, the bottle they'd been holding onto for weeks now empty and colourless. He's smiling, the fucking cheek of the git, but his chest isn't moving, no snoring or breath to be heard from it.

It almost makes him wish he'd left a little bit for him, as melodramatic as it sounds, but he knows despite his grief that he's with Lee and Roxy and it helps just that tiny bit.

Sniffling, Harry strides forward, hand hovering before it eventually grabs one of the sheets that Eggsy had folded back just that morning, full of life as he always would be.

"Goodbye, my beloved boy." He presses a kiss to his still warm forehead, his cheek and his lips, before he pulls the sheet over, almost as if he was just a body and not anything more.

There are phone calls to make, arrangements to be fulfilled and things to be done, but the whole world somehow seems to stop in the moment as Harry sits in that same chair he watched him in so long ago and hums a familiar tune to himself, a smile fluttering across his face as he remembered so long ago when a man in a suit, fell in love with a street rat.

And they lived happily ever after, to the end.