fucking_gentleman | PSL: For Charles

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PSL: For Charles

It took two days for things to be sorted enough for Harry Devere to ping on the Kingsman's systems.

Everyone had been handling somewhat more important things for those two days. A lot of people were dead. A lot more were injured. Even more than that were deeply traumatised by the maiming, murdering and mayhem which had ensued while the signal was broadcast.

And even when they weren't, no one had been expecting the ping. Harry's final footage had been graphic, staring at the barrel of the gun, the sound of firing and then the cut transmission. There were plans, of course, to eventually recover his body for burial but they were far from a priority.

Until Harry Devere pinged the system.

Harry Devere, admitted to the ICU of the Livingston Hospital in Kentucky seven hours before V-Day went live. He survived that by the luck of being in a sealed ward, away from people who viewed him as an actual person worth attacking.

Merlin was busy holding down the fort and being Merlin. Therefore, he told Charles to take whatever damn plane he wanted and get to Kentucky and get Harry into the safety of the Kingsman medical facility as fast as he could. He was given a passport which said he was Charles Devere, Harry's younger brother and paperwork which claimed the legal right to make decisions for his unmarried brother in the absence of parents.

All of these things were delivered with the instruction that no one was to know Harry Hart was alive. Not until they knew he would stay that way and not until he was back with them, awake and some reasonable semblance of the man they knew.

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"Ah, you weren't asleep? All right. Get some rest, Harry."

"Not all the time. I might've dozed somewhat." He made a soft sound of protest. "I'm enjoying having company. I'll sleep when you either leave or sort out that cot."

"I see. I suppose then I should get it sorted. I will be just a moment." He went to the nurse's station to make his request, stating with certainty that Harry would be in better spirits and a model patient should Charles be allowed to sleep over as it were. He might have been innocently flirting with the nurse as well. American women went crazy for a British accent.

Charles did that and Harry went to sleep for a while. A nurse slipped in and changed him over to a breathing mask when his oxygen levels dipped a bit, giving him oxygen and steroids to loosen up his breathing a bit more.

And... to set up the cot. Charles could stay, on the understanding that they would be in and out a lot and he might need to be removed at odd hours for tests or, the less promising scenario, another crash.

"My brother thanks you and I thank you." He smiled. He obliged to the requirements of his stay. When they did need him to leave, he could just go back to the hotel for a change of clothes and some other items.

When he came back in, he removed his jacket, hung it over a chair, removed his shoes and climbed into the cot now that it was ready for him. He needed more rest than his nap in the chair had provided.

Harry slept until he crashed in the early hours of the morning.

Alarms went off a lot in ICU, but when they went off in Harry's room, there was no way to sleep through it. Charles was rushed out and the crash cart in.

He flatlined twice on them. He was taken into surgery and clots removed from his wound area and his skull worked on again. He was brought back to his room six hours after his first crash and Charles allowed back in once he was settled.

He was kept under sedation though. For another twelve hours and allowed back into a deep sleep during the night, to let the sedation wear off again.

Sometime in the mid morning, Harry actually started waking when the nurse checked him. And immediately took a swing at the nurse. A very inept swing, but the intent was still there.

Charles was up out of bed, and moving things out of the way for the attending nurses. In the time Harry was in surgery, Charles dozed off in the waiting room, until someone came out to tell him that he was allowed back in.

He was awake when Harry attempted the strike. "No, Harry, no," he chided and reached to touch Harry's weaker arm. "I am so sorry."

Harry swung his hand around blindly, landing on Charles' hand and then settling again. Hearing a familiar voice calmed him more than anything else and he heaved a couple of breaths, misting up the mask.

"Sch-?" He sighed softly. He'd try speaking again in a moment.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," he said, wincing from the strike. "We almost lost you again, but you have always been a scrapper."

Edited 2016-06-10 03:49 (UTC)

"Wha' 'pened?" He frowned slightly at the struggle with words, but it was too much effort to try saying again with more syllables.

"You flatlined twice. They did surgery again on your head, at the impact site. There were some blood clots." He gave Harry a thoughtful look. "But you are so bloody stubborn."

Harry's remaining eye cracked open to peer at Charles. "Mm." That wasn't great and he seemed to recognise that fact.

"So, no' get'in' out t'day."

"'Fraid not. I think they think you aren't going to make it, Harry. You need to prove them wrong."

Harry's eye closed again. He was tired. He had recorded his message, which had been a big drive to fight on, to make things right for that boy.

He was over fifty, he had never had a serious relationship aside from work and he was tired.

"... why?"

"Why? Speaking for myself, I have already lost James. I don't know what I would do if I lost you too."

Survive. Charles was a survivor.

Mind you, so was Harry.

"Well, if't's f'r you..." Maybe he'd put some more effort into sticking around. Charles wasn't very good at living without someone prompting him. Surviving, yes. Living, less so.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, Harry. It is a lot that falls onto you, but I can promise that you will not be alone." Charles had some need to be understood. Friendship meant everything to him.

Harry made a noise that was probably trying to be a huff.

His nurse took over briefly, getting him to move his fingers (left side relatively good, right side weak response), then his toes (same as hands), rate his pain score (three) and then open his eye and look at her and track her fingers (relatively successful).

Then she tucked him back under the blankets and reminded Charles there was always a water jug available for either of them and there was a coffee machine down the hall if he needed it.

Harry watched her go. He looked suspicious, but it might have just been because it was difficult to open his eye more than a slit.

He thanked the nurse and promised that he would make use of both the water jug and the coffee maker.

"After we return home, I would like to sleep for a week," he admitted.

"Feel like, I have." He rested for a few moments after getting that out. "Ice?"

He could go an ice chip. The idea of liquid was very appealing.

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