my daddy was a bank robber

Merlin isn’t often prone to violent outbursts, but listening to Johnny’s words, he feels himself teetering on the edge of one. Much as he tries to draw back, tries to remind himself that this is the drugs talking, guilt and anger continue to churn inside him, pushing him closer and closer to his boiling point. The thing of it is–at least on some points–Johnny’s not wrong. There were times when Merlin could have done more, should have. But to sit here and have it all pitched back in his face as though none of it had mattered in the slightest is as much as he can take.

“I never claimed to be honorable!” he roars, hurling his cup at the far wall as he shoots up out of his seat. There’s a ringing in his ears as he sees nothing but red. “I went home because it was my home, John. Archy was never anything more than a facade. It was a role. It was a skin I put on to complete my mission. I went home because there was only so much I could fucking take.”

The dogs stay huddled by the stairs, watching him with their tails tucked between their legs. Merlin paces like a caged tiger, his fists clenched at his sides and his chest heaving. He can’t remember the last time he’s wanted so badly to put his fist through a wall or a window or whatever happened to be closest.

Johnny doesn’t even flinch when the mug shatters against the opposite wall and he finds Archy up on his feet shouting at him, he isn’t a little kid anymore and he isn’t going to be intimidated by Archy of all people. Instead he stands up and gets in Archy’s face, he might be the same height as his once-uncle but he’s still built like a string bean and there isn’t a doubt that in a physical fight Archy would wipe the floor with him. But what part of this argument actually involves the two of them thinking clearly? Johnny is bitter and high, and Archy is guilty and angry- it’s a recipe for fucking disaster.

                                      “ Halle-fucking-lujah, there we fucking have                                           it don’t we Merlin? Arch the fucking fake,                                           Arch who doesn’t give a shite who’s life he                                           fucking interfere’s in. Merlin that doesn’t give                                           a fuck “

There was no real satisfaction to any of this, and he was sure that come the time to get clean he would regret most of his words- but that didn’t necessarily mean that he enjoyed it any less, or that his words were any less true. Archy never lost his cool like this, and he doubted Merlin did either, and it was some- what nice seeing the man march in front of him. It was nice letting out years of poison when it was so obvious that everything Archy had said to him before now was fucking rot.

He sets it aside, leaning back in his seat. Although not prone to slouching, he finds himself sliding down in his seat as he leans back. As predicted, the coffee hasn’t done much for him, but he’s awake for the time being. Angry as he is, his chair is comfortable and his eyelids are heavy and the idea of just nodding off right then and there is terribly tempting.

But he doesn’t. He can’t once Johnny starts talking again. The words feel like a slap to the face, waking him in a way that coffee could never hope to. These things he’s always thought, these regrets he’s always harbored, they were private. Thinking them was one thing, having them spit in his face by Johnny is entirely another. Burning shame courses through his veins, gets his heart beating quick as his grip on the armrests of his chair turns white-knuckled. Guilt makes his chest feel painfully tight as he tries to think of something to say.

Johnny laughs, and it’s hollow and bitter just like he is. He might have betrayed Archy by getting back on the gear after years spent clean, but he certainly isn’t the only traitor in the room that day. He knows, in reality, that Archy did care- or at least cared enough when he was younger, but the heroin currently coursing its way through his system gives him a happy sense of denial that he can cover himself with. And he finds that if nothing else, Archy is guilty through the sin of omission.

                                       “ why did you go home, Merlin? you knew                                            what Len was like, you fucking knew and                                            you just upped and left. you swan in, acting                                            like some honourable kingsman but the                                            truth is you are shit merlin! if you were half                                            the man that merlin or even archy is suppose                                            to be then you wouldn’t have left a child                                            with an abusive, gay bashing, mobster “

Admittedly Johnny was being a little bit theatrical, and it wasn’t like on multiple occasions Lenny and Archy hadn’t pointedly said that that they weren’t in fact mobsters, but the point remained the same. Admittedly Johnny also wasn’t exactly mentioning the times that Archy had been there for him; the times that Arch had taken him to his mums grave, or when he had taken care of punishing Johnny himself. A smack round the head was still a smack round the head, but at least Archy had never been sadistic about it.

He knows it’s undeniably fucked up that he can judge Archy caring about him through how hard he was whacked, and the fact that it should even come to that spurs on Johnnys hatred further. He shouldn’t have to be grateful that Archy was the lesser of two evils, not when there shouldn’t have been evils in the first place.

                         “ like you said James, weirdness is subjective “

He took a moment to think it over properly,weighing up his past exploits and wonderingif any of them could actually be consideredfor the title of weirdest kink. Finally, with a grinhe answered- with what was probably too muchhonesty and not enough shame;

                         “ like you said James, weirdness is subjective “

He took a moment to think it over properly,weighing up his past exploits and wonderingif any of them could actually be consideredfor the title of weirdest kink. Finally, with a grinhe answered- with what was probably too muchhonesty and not enough shame;

                         “ like you said James, weirdness is subjective “

He took a moment to think it over properly,weighing up his past exploits and wonderingif any of them could actually be consideredfor the title of weirdest kink. Finally, with a grinhe answered- with what was probably too muchhonesty and not enough shame;

                         “ like you said James, weirdness is subjective “

He took a moment to think it over properly,weighing up his past exploits and wonderingif any of them could actually be consideredfor the title of weirdest kink. Finally, with a grinhe answered- with what was probably too muchhonesty and not enough shame;

He reaches down, resting a hand atop Bernie’s head and scratching his ears soothingly. They’re not used to hearing him raise his voice like this. Typically he has much better control over his temper, but in a situation like this, he’s tired and tired of doing this and it’s stretching a thin line even thinner. Harry is busy working, so there’s some small mercy in that he won’t come home to find Merlin playing nanny to a junkie on their sofa when he’d been sent home to sleep.

Although Merlin is none-too-pleased with Johnny right this second, he’s not sure he could stomach Harry walking through the door right now. It has the makings of turning a bad situation worse. Johnny needs straightening out, but not the Harry Hart brand.

“You don’t get an excuse for the choices you make, John,” Merlin tells him. “No one forced you to stick that needle in your arm. There was no divine power behind your hand when you slid that needle in your veins. It was just you.”

Johnny wants to say something clever, he does, but for the first time no words instantly come to mind. There is a wealth of knowledge stored inside his head, in multiple languages, from his days at Eton, yet nothing especially creative comes to mind- not even the pseudo psychology that he is so fond off. Instead he wonders if he was always this dumb when he had been at the pipe, or whether this was just because it had been such a long time. Finally he just waves his hand and mutters;

                                       “ junkie is, as junkie does, Uncle “

There is, of course, a real reason and he’s sure that at some point he’ll tell Archy, but any intentions towards that fade when he tunes in to what Archy is saying. And it’s fucking weird, because the words for once actually fucking bother him and he isn’t sure if its the drugs talking or his fake uncles words but for the first time around Archy, Johnny finds that he wants to get vicious.

Johnny knows that he’s had poison running through his veins since the day he was born, and he’s beaten it into others and he’s beaten it into himself and he knows that he can spit it just as well as it’s been thrown at him. Without much thought for consequence he sits up and eyes Archy like he’s staring at a fucking traitor, and opens his mouth.

Daniel Genis

Released From Prison, ‘Apologetic Bandit’ Writes About Life Inside

Jamie eases up on his hold, but he doesn’t lower his gun. He doesn’t trust Johnny as far as he can throw him; though, given the junkie’s current frame, it’d be fairly far. His hands still around Johnny’s neck, Jamie taps the barrel of the gun against the man’s jaw.

                         “that’s more like it. we’re going to pay archy a                          little visit, alright? you’re gonna come with me, mate.”

His chest tightens at the thought of Merlin, anger pumping through his veins. It’s been a year. He’s been waiting a year for this fucking moment – the moment where he can use Merlin’s attachment Johnny to get all of the information on the Kingsman, just to fuck him over. To fuck them over, for what they let happen to Simon.

As soon as Bob eased up he took a deep breath, trying to fill as much of his body as possible with air, he’s not entirely sure how this is going to play out and he doesn’t want to risk being light headed if it comes down to a fight. At the request of an address though he rattles out the first place that comes to mind, it’s not Archy’s but instead some empty house- bar the infesting junkies- that he’s crashed on more than one occasion. It’s less well known than the boneyard, and good for hiding- he doubts Bob’ll know it.

                                    “ you’ve got the address, now fuck off “

His hand is scrabbling around in his pocket, first on the cold metal of his lighter and then on the wood of the sharpened pencil that he can stab any fucker with.  If Bob doesn’t leave he can get him with the sharp end and try and knock him out. It doesn’t register what will happen if he fails. He’s much more concerned about saving his own skin and Arch’s. Christ, who knew that poisonous little junkies had hearts?