networkinthenight | [Audio] @ SuprNerd

Because-- because I don't know when it's going to happen again? It could be tomorrow. There's just no way to know and I--

[Quentin clears his throat]

I have to do something? [Pleading tone to his voice, because Quentin was always at his worst when he was forced to stay still. When there's nothing to do but wait.] Come with me? We can find it together.

[ he does want desperately to go too, to feel like he's something close to who he's supposed to be instead of...whatever disappointing mess he currently is. maybe that's why quentin doesn't want to listen: eliot's just no good like this. ]

I. [ he reaches for quentin's hand because suddenly the fear bubbles up like bile in his throat, and he can't shake the dread. he takes quentin's fingers in his own, barely grasping and yet steadied all the same. ] I can't. I'm. What if it does happen? What if we don't make it out this time? [ what if i don't, he means. ]

Please. I can't-- [ he shakes his head, an uneven panic lingering. ] Not right now.

[ not with mike's words still lingering, every action and inaction quentin makes a silent affirmation of false words that had bored into him for far too long. ]

That's what I'm worried about.

[But he's going to cling to Eliot's hand, holding on with both of his just to have something to steady himself by. He knows these hands, almost as well as he knows his own. He's spent years looking and touching and being touched by these hands and this place almost took that away from him. Took that away from the both of them, because Quentin's fears ran too deep and too hard to take this. Because his mind was too broken to just fucking deal with this.]

When? The more I-- the more we wait, the greater the risk of this happening again. I've got it all worked out, I know where to start looking, I'm not taking any chances and I'm not-- I'm not going to just. [he sighs, licking his trembling lips] I'll find my way back home to you. But we can't stay here.

I. I don't know? I'm. [ he swallows thickly, looking away. he really doesn't know, and it terrifies him just as much as the way quentin looks outside the windows into the dark. he doesn't feel right anymore, and it seems endlessly. if quentin is already okay, shouldn't he be better now? he's supposed to be better than this. so why isn't he? ]

It's not home if you're not here, Q. [ and he means that both for here as it is here and wherever quentin decides to go, if he goes. no, not if. he's going. eliot knows. he just doesn't want to believe it. ] If. If it happens again, wouldn't we still be safer here? Out there is. So much. The dark. Those. Those malevolent spirits deep in the woods. The rivers. And obviously a whole lot of other bullshit we're much safer avoiding.

I’ll have the bow with me. I know battle magic.

[Correction, he knew battle magic back when he was alive and it worked best when they had the emotions bottles and he’s a mess right now. Too raw and unsettled, too angry and too upset, but what choice does he have? Sit here and watch all of this start again? Watch Eliot go through something like this, or worse, again? Heart clenching, Quentin squeezes Eliot’s hand.]

I love you, Eliot. So fucking much. I’ll come home, I promise.

[ his grip tightens. he can feel quentin slipping away. just like that. like it never mattered. ]

What if you can't? [ he doesn't bother hiding the fear this time. ] What if you find it somehow and get. Get stuck out there, and can't come back. What am I supposed to do then? Quentin. Please. Please. I- I. Can't lose you again.

[ and he means that. everything already feels like too much.

he winces as he forces himself to admit the next. ] I need you here.

I'll-- look, I talked to some guy named Peter? He's-- I'll be wearing a tracker and he's going to keep an eye out. I'm going to come back.

[And it's breaking his heart, saying this. Doing this, because Eliot looks so fucking scared again, like he never does, not even while facing down monster and beasts. Not even while sighing his life away, and Quentin swallows hard.]

I can't just stay here and do nothing.

[And be useless, yet again, because he's waiting for someone bigger, or better, or smarter to finish this. This feelings of being of no use to anyone, and it's there, it right there, in every one of his words and every time he clings to Eliot because he needs him so much. That's he's never going to be the one to save anyone, from anything. He turns to Eliot and slips one of his hands up to cup the side of his face.]

I need you to be safe. That's all I want. For you to be safe.

Edited 2019-10-28 20:39 (UTC)

[ the knife twists as quentin justifies everything by saying that staying is just doing nothing, and eliot has to wonder if he's been more of a burden the whole while than he'd realized. had the hallucinations really made him such a trouble that quentin could find it so utterly unbearable? had it become a chore?

he withdraws his hand anxiously and sit straighter. he doesn't want to look weak. not if that's what quentin is hinging on. quentin had said he could be whatever eliot needed, but eliot had clearly overstepped his bounds somehow, asked for too much somewhere without realizing it. ]

How can I be safe if I don't also know that you are?

[ 'he doesn't care,' he hears mike say even without hearing a damn thing. 'he never needed you around to get shit done.' ]

I don't know, okay? I don't-- I just--

[Hands falling in to his lap because Eliot pulled away and Quentin? Quentin hunches his shoulders, free hands twisting together. He wishes briefly for a coin, just to have something to do with his hands, because nothing he's saying is working. Eliot isn't even-- listening. Feeling useless, useless and worthless and Quentin sinks lower in to his seat.]

I don't know what else to do! I can't-- I can't help you. I can't-- I couldn't even help myself and I thought. I thought I'd lost you. This place did that! What the fuck is it going to do next?

[ he shrinks back as if slapped. ]

What the hell do you mean, you can't help me? You're the one that's wanting to go when I need you here. "Can't help"? You're trying to walk away from it. L. Like I'm just some kind of hopeless wreck. Like you even really tried, but what, I'm not good enough of a charity case for you?

Jesus, Q.

What? What the hell- no!

[Quentin snaps his head up, turning to Eliot so fast he's almost making himself dizzy with it, eyes burning in his face- too little sleep, too much time worrying about Eliot, about what will happen next time to close his eyes for more than an hour at a time, just lying there, holding on to Eliot and breathing, and Eliot thinks-- what?]

How? How am I helping being here? Eliot, I can barely even feed myself. I'm fucking useless here! I still feel like I'm cracking up. You-- you need someone strong and I'm not? I'm just not right now, but I can find a way out, I can find a way out and you never have to feel like this again. Ever.

[ eliot folds his arms against his body, knuckles white from grasping so tightly onto his elbows. ]

Can you even hear me? I feel like I'm just.

[ did he imagine it? had he imagined finding q? making it out alive. had quentin even been there? or was it like mike too? ]

What happened to figuring things out together? You. We both said. [ in a long distant dream. it feels like months ago now, but it had only been weeks. ] Why is that not good enough now? How is this somehow so different? I don't. Understand. Why you think I need someone. "Strong"? I already said that I need you. I only need you. Does that just. Not matter at all here?

Quentin? [ he feels raw, like he's just walked out from the happy place again, and here's this stranger in front of him who doesn't want to know him, doesn't want to remember. i'm alive in here. ] Fifty years.

Oh god, Eliot, jesus. Don't--

[Like a rubber-band stretched too hard and Quentin just snaps, mouth quivering and hands shaking, reaching for Eliot and his stiff shoulders. He's wrapping both arms around him before he even has a chance to think, burying his face in Eliot's hair.]

No, no. No, that's not-- no, never. I just can't-- I feel so fucking useless. Of course it matters, it's all that matters. You are all that matters.

[Muttered in to Eliot's curls, Quentin's hands fisting in to his shirt. because yeah, fifty years and a lifetime together and it was never going to be enough.] I want-- we can figure it out together and this, this is the best I've got. Going out to look before it's too late.

[ he crumbles in an instant against quentin, grasping on for dear life, feeling everything fading despite the contact. ]

Then why are you leaving? I. I d- don't. Wh- why?

[ and that's all he can think as his heart seems to collapse under its own weight, feeling so stressed and heavy. meaningless. how is it that he just can't get through? quentin says one thing but then immediately another, and it's still as if eliot is imagining everything he's ever felt for him, that the connection was never real, because if it was, why can't quentin hear him?

he's practically invisible. ]

Why? [ he can only parrot it, the sorrow swallowing anything else. he's supposed to be enough. he's meant to be. isn't that what all of the trouble had been? that he hadn't put more faith into it from the start? except everything now is a contradiction to every affirmation, every murmur, every kiss.

'you're worse than a trophy wife,' he can almost hear mike say. 'how could you ever think i would have really loved you?' ]

I'm not leaving.

[Because he's not, he's looking and there's a difference. There's a difference between leaving and looking and he's doing the latter. For so many reasons that all boil down to I don't want you to suffer but he can't say that. Can't find the words that will make Eliot see that this is all for him, for them.]

I want to find a way out.

[Helplessly and he hugs Eliot tighter, as tightly as he can and breathes him in, heart heavy and thundering in his chest.]

But you are. [ quentin can spin it any way he wants, but he is leaving. he knows how desperately eliot needs him right now. clearly that must be true or he wouldn't be holding him this way. but he still wants to go. ] You said you'd stay. Wherever I am. That I won't lose you?

But you're not. Y- you're leaving. And. You. You don't-- You didn't even want me along? You got everything by yourself, and you ignored me, and you--

[ somehow, he manages to crumple more into himself, and he staves back a sob. there are times when he thinks he knows quentin better than anyone, how lucky he is to have quentin who believes in him. this is not one of those moments. quentin doesn't believe in him at all, and it hurts so horrible it suffocates. ]

What am I supposed to do if you go?

... I--

[And Eliot is right, a little. That he did it all by himself, that Quentin stuck his head in the sand and found the first reason, the first quest he could make up for himself against all reason and all warnings and he threw himself at it. Alone, and wholeheartedly and he ran away, ran in to the next new thing to take him away from all the hard and difficult feelings in the aftermath of insanity.

Quentin shakes his head.]

I don't know. I don't-- I don't know, and I don't know what else to do and it's not because of you. Or, yes, it's because I want to save you, not because-- I'm not ignoring you? I'm just.

[Running, rushing off, and making plans with someone who isn't Eliot, who isn't close to Quentin's heart at all because he could stand to lose every last one of them if it meant keeping Eliot safe. And that's also selfish. That urge, that drive that he kept nagging Julia about, that he stopped plans for and more people died because of Quentin's complete inability to not save Eliot.

This one time.

Because he hadn't been able to before.

Guilt.

And he slumps down over Eliot, shoulders shaking and chest heaving.]

I don't know how else to help you.

[ he sobs then, feeling so hopeless. even quentin thinks he's beyond any help, beyond his help, and eliot hadn't realized when he'd stop being enough. q needed other things. needed things that felt like they actually mattered or made a difference, and he was just. not who quentin needed. at all. ]

I'm sorry. I'll. I'll be better. I'll try harder. I'll do whatever you want. Whatever you need me to do, okay?

I- if you have to go, I won't--

Then you should go.

I never meant to hold you back.

Edited 2019-10-29 21:33 (UTC)

You're... not?

[Quentin pulls back from the hug enough to look at Eliot, the dark circles under his eyes and the tense way he holds his shoulders, not even looking at Quentin. And Eliot always looks at Quentin. It's unsettling and Quentin blinks, frowning.]

Wait? What? No, that's not. Eliot, that's not it. You're-- you're already everything to me? You don't have to be-- what, better? I don't even know what that means, because you're the best. You're-- you. And I'm-- [Quietly and almost a whisper as he looks away, lips trembling.]

Falling apart?

How can I be if I'm not worth staying for? Not-- [ he shakes his head. feeling so empty and cold now that quentin's drawn away. he presses harder into himself trying to shove back all the emotions normally tucked neatly behind his mental barriers. quentin doesn't need to see all this. quentin doesn't want all this nonsense. he just wants to go. stop wasting his time.

eliot takes a moment to swallow it all back, force down every fear as he blinks back tears that never fell because he's not supposed to be anything but pristine. that's what quentin needs from him, right? that's the person that quentin fell in love with, not the mess hidden so well underneath. ]

It's fine. I. Shouldn't have assumed so much. [ only when he's sure he's collected himself does he dare look back up at quentin, tone and expression muted. ] I'm just. Complicating things now. But you have a plan and. And help. [ from someone that isn't him, but he shoves the thought away as soon as it enters. ] If there isn't anything for you to do here, then it makes sense.

[It's kind of amazing, in a scary kind of way. The way Eliot pulls away, not with his body as much as all of the emotions draining away from his face- his mouth relaxes, the angry, frustrated lines between his eyes and around his lips smooth out and between one blink and the next, Eliot looks almost completely different.

Quentin frowns.

Eliot looks almost placid. Almost calm, with a casual arch of his eyebrow at Quentin and a roll of his shoulders, like they're talking about nothing more important than dinner or who's turn it is to do the dishes. (Quentin's, it's always Quentin's because Eliot cooks and it's only fair, but the argument still comes up).

Looking like he did back at Brakebills, too aloof and too above it all to care about what mere mortals thought and Quentin hasn't seen that look on Eliot's face in years. Maybe last time, was Eliot mentioning in a throw-away line that Margo had sold his newborn daughter to the fairies.

Or maybe it's the hazy image of Eliot laying on the mosaic, all smiles and warmth as Quentin kissed Arielle and there's a part of him that's always suspected that maybe Eliot hadn't been as okay with that as he said he was. That accepting Quentin's marriage had been just another way for Eliot

To give

Quentin

What Quentin thought

He needed.

Like now.]

You are. You're worth staying for, Eliot. I-- maybe I don't tell you that enough, or maybe I just suck at doing it? But you're worth staying for.

[ quentin says it, but eliot doesn't know that he feels it. at all. anymore. still, he smiles, the one that always comes a little too easily, and lowers his arms, eases back in his seat. maybe it's better this way. quentin knows what he needs better than eliot ever could. if that means quentin has to go out, do something else with someone new, then eliot can only oblige. you sacrifice for the people you love. maybe he hasn't been doing his part. or maybe this is what he deserves for having doubted in the first place.

but he'll take whatever left quentin is willing to give, for however long he's still willing to give it. but mike was right, apparition or not. he's not enough. ]

It's okay, Q. I get it. [ the corner of his lip quirks more, but it doesn't reach his eyes. ] I'll just. [ smile falling away, ] Hold the fort. Make sure things don't get too crazy while you're gone.

[There's a prolonged silence with just Quentin trying to breathe like a normal person and he's staring at Eliot with a very confused look on his face. He's missing something.

They had argued about this for days. Quentin had made his points, first calmly and trying to rational about something as irrational as storming the trees because someone hurt his boyfriend. Partner? Friend? And they fought when Quentin spilled all of his frustrations and fear all over the town on the tablet. They were fighting now, again, about the sanity of rushing off while they weren't feeling their best. Or Eliot wasn't. Maybe Quentin wasn't.

Some days, it was hard to tell, which feelings were them and which were just Quentin's. All wrapped around each others lives and emotions and bodies until he didn't know where one ended and the other began.

Taking a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nose, Quentin reaches out and takes Eliot's hand in his, kissing each of his knuckles in turn.

Before he died, Quentin remembers, he's had this same kind of conversation with Alice. About why her choosing to destroy the keys to magic had hurt so badly - it wasn't so much that she did it, but that she hadn't trusted him enough to be honest about her fears. He was always going to love Alice, even after everything she did and everything he'd done. But that betrayal of trust--

When he finally says something, it's very low, almost whispering it into Eliot's hand at his mouth.]

I make stupid choices sometimes. And I run. Because it's easier if-- because it's easier for me, if I'm the one suffering. I love you, Eliot, and-- I think I should stay this time. No, that's-- I want to stay. I want us to find the way together. When... when we can.

[ he doesn't expect that. at all, and it shows, the placid mask falling away and replaced with the raw confusing, the hurt that had been in his eyes before returning as they widen, brows raising anxiously. quentin takes his hand so carefully, presses his lips with such assurance. his heart thuds, terrified that this moment is wholly imagined or something that will become meaningless again all too soon.

but quentin speaks and. oh, he could cry. he can't think of a time that anyone's ever said anything of the sort before, so willingly setting aside themselves entirely just for eliot, and it feels so unreal. it's impossible. but quentin just. did?

tears drip from his eyes before he has time to react, and his free hand flies up to cover his mouth. he doesn't know what to say. ]

[Eliot doesn't say anything, he just stares back with tears running down his face and Quentin blinks. Maybe it was too much? Too much honesty so soon after everything that had happened? Maybe it was too much?

Quentin and his issues regarding how much to want, how much to take from another person had always been tricky. He always wanted more, always. More affection, more closeness, more attention and it had driven Julia away more times than he wanted to think about and it had been something Alice hated about him. This constant need.

He swallows hard.]

I-- but we don't have to? If you don't want to? It can still just be me, but-- I can wait?

[Audio] @ SuprNerd - open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)