king_quentin (king_quentin) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-09-03 12:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, eliot waugh (helladjacent), quentin coldwater |
WHO: Eliot Waugh (2) & Quentin Coldwater
WHERE: The Physical Kid’s Cottage
WHEN: TODAY
WHAT: Quentin fills Eliot in about their future life
WARNINGS: Feels and shit
STATUS: Complete in gdocs
There were a lot of things that Quentin hadn’t explained. Some of it was out of self preservation, to keep himself safe, to keep from overloading Eliot with things that hadn’t happened for him yet. He couldn’t help but think back to that conversation Alice had with him. He’d said he’d want to be told if he didn’t know and Eliot did. He wasn’t sure if the same was true of Eliot, but he didn’t want to hide things from him either. He hated the way it all felt, the way he felt. He hated the anxiety coursing through his body. Drinking coffee was definitely not helping, but he needed something to do with his hands and it was better than drinking. At least when he considered how he used to be. He leaned back in his chair and looked over at Eliot. His feelings were still complicated, but he’d been keeping them in check because with everything Eliot was dealing with here and from where he’d been before, he didn’t need to worry about Quentin or his feelings. He just needed to find a way to adjust to his current situation. It wouldn’t be easy, it clearly hadn’t been. “I know you’ve been sort of bombarded with information, but I guess I kind of have some more. It’s future knowledge. But not just...not just something I’ve heard about from someone else.” His brow furrowed slightly and he looked down. “It’s kind of a you and I future thing. But if you don’t want to know, then...I won’t tell you. I just didn’t want it to become something I was keeping from you. But obviously you have a choice in the information you get.” — Since the incident with the Pumpkin Spice Cocktails, Eliot had avoided alcohol. He was starting to give people the impression he had a problem, which was of course, ridiculous. Eliot was fine. He’d been keeping himself moderately busy, mostly by letting Alice fret over him and keep him busy. It was an act, but he didn’t have much to do with his days either, so he allowed it. “Did you want to tell me?” Eliot asked. He was weighing over the news of losing his memories. That didn’t actually sound so bad. Sometimes. Sometimes it sounded awful. Eliot was torn between wanting to forget the people he’d left behind in the hotel and wishing desperately they were there. “You’ve officially told me something. I, still technically High King Eliot from my perspective, absolve you of all wrongdoing.” He even tried offering up a smile. “There. Now I leave it completely at your discretion.” — Quentin felt the anxiety bubble up again because it was his choice whether or not it was told. “I don’t want to hide it from you,” he said quietly. “But I don’t know...I don’t…” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair and trying to find the words. “It’s complicated, I guess. But I want you to know. At least in this setting and not in...a surprise, get blindsided by it sort of situation.” He tried to stay seated, but he couldn’t sit still anymore, so he stood up. “If you need me to stop, just...let me know.” He would still try to be mindful of Eliot, keep an eye on how he reacted to things because it would help him make sure he didn’t accidentally go too far with the information. “We were trying to bring magic back. We had to find seven keys. My great quest. I’d just told you about the mosaic and we put the key in the clock. It opened up a door and well, there wasn’t much time. We had to go in. Only we found ourselves in Fillory. Well, Fillory of the past. Just feeling magic after so long without it...it was so nice.” He paused, gaze lifting to Eliot’s face. “It was just us in Fillory...trying to solve a mosaic that represented the beauty of all life.” __ “Oh,” Eliot said, clearly not getting it. He watched Quentin carefully, trying to understand why he needed to pace to tell him about this part of the quest. With keys. “So, I’m assuming we solved it?” The beauty of all life? That didn’t seem like the sort of thing one just solved but they were smart and if magic was involved there was probably some catch or trick they figured out. It still didn’t explain why— Eliot stood up and placed his hands gently on Quentin’s shoulders, giving them a firm, concerned squeeze. “Q, whatever it is, we’re okay now. And I know that doesn’t mean much but sometimes that’s all we have to work with.” He assumed something bad happened. Eliot could empathize with that much. — Quentin stared at Eliot for a moment, brow furrowing just slightly. He could tell that it didn’t quite...mean anything to Eliot. “We did solve it. It just took a very long time.” He looked down at the ground. “It’s not...I mean…” He frowned as he tried to explain it. “You and I…” He looked up. “We...I...We fell in love.” He was quiet for a moment, uncertain how to move forward. “We were there for a year and I just...you didn’t make a move so I did and then...well, it was nice. Arielle came along and I married her, but...that didn’t really change us. I had a son.” A pause. “We had a son. You helped raise him with us. So he was as much yours as mine. When Arielle died, we co-parented.” He didn’t know if that was too much, but he had to explain it. “We didn’t leave. The only reason it didn’t happen was because Margo came back in time to stop us from going through the clock. But then we remembered it.” He wrapped his arms around himself, not sure if he should move away or not. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure why he said that, but it was the first thing that he thought of. __ Eliot frowned and pulled Quentin in for a hug. It seemed he had all kinds of future children he didn’t know, just not the one he’d remembered or had been expecting. Eliot pressed a kiss into the top of his dearest friend’s head. “You better not be sorry,” Eliot said gently. “I can’t imagine I would be.” His arms gave Eliot and squeeze and he was willing to hold Quentin for as long as he would tolerate it. -- Quentin felt Eliot’s arms around him and it felt like the world disappeared for a moment. He took the comfort offered to him and slowly let himself uncurl a little and moved to wrap his arms around Eliot in return. He knew their future was a lot of there was really only one timeline in which he and Eliot were happy. Then they went back to a place where there was no relationship or anything and a lot of complicated feelings. “I’m not sorry that it happened,” he said after a moment. “I just...it’s a lot and well…” He frowned. “Knowing about it helped me when I wasn’t in a great place. I guess it helped me realize that happiness was possible, that I actually deserved it.” He was quiet for a moment. “You deserve it, too. Wherever it comes from.” That was a little serious. “Maybe Eliot will show you my impressively ridiculous beard.” __ “You probably deserve it more,” Eliot said with a small smirk. He wasn’t serious, mostly, just being his usually bratty self. One of his hands moved slowly to reach up and comb gently through Quentin’s hair. -- Quentin rolled his eyes. “Impossible. I’ve been happy for a while since then, so I think you need to play catch up.” He allowed himself to slowly relax, resting his head against Eliot’s shoulder. “Obviously you have time to find your way there, though.” He sighed a little. “I’m glad it was you.” He was quiet again. “It’s a little strange to have you both here and know you’re practically the same and not at the same time. You’re both about the same when it comes to looking out for Margo and I, so if you need me for anything, I want to be there for you, too. Whatever that looks like.” -- Eliot exhaled, and rested his face, chin through nose, on the top of Quentin’s head. He spoke softly into his hair, “Okay.” What else was he going to say? It was easier to think of the other Eliot as a long lost twin from a beautiful and dramatic telenovela. It was more uncomfortable to think of the other Eliot as some better, more put together version of himself. The version that was nice to Fen, was getting married to someone he loved, who didn’t publically fuck up the way he did. He just liked to mute his ability to care for a while. There wasn’t anything he could do anyway about his friends back in the hotel. Including his own duplicate of Quentin. Eliot tried not to remember that just because Quentin was here in front of him, didn’t make him safe from the hotel. “Maybe, sometime, you could tell me more about our son? If that’s okay?” he asked. -- He at least felt a little better having talked about it. Having mentioned it. He was glad that there was now no one that he needed to hide it from and no one that he would potentially reveal it to without warning. The Fen thing had been awkward. He’d felt guilty for letting it slip, but he hadn’t known it was something to let slip. He’d made an assumption and Eliot had to deal with the aftermath of it. “I think you’d have really liked him. I mean, I know you would.” He wanted to share that part of him a little. He didn’t expect anything, wouldn’t make any sort of demands of anyone. It was where he was now. He just wanted to have even a small role in the lives of both Eliots and he would accept whatever role he had. Friend was just as important as anything else. Best friend. He wasn’t Margo, but he was pretty sure he was still a best friend. “I’ve got plenty of stories. Plenty of memories. Anything you want to know or see when it comes to Rupert is yours.” -- “Other Me offered his new memory blocking potion,” Eliot said. “I was thinking of taking it but… I don’t think those are memories I want to risk losing.” It was stupid. The risk for having all his memories destroyed were high but then, Eliot was a little self destructive anyway. Maybe having memories of sharing a life and creating a family with someone else was what he needed. It sounded nice. It sounded like maybe somehow it would make it easier to move on from where he’d been the last two years. -- Quentin smiled at that a little. “Yeah. That’s why we’ve been doing this whole memory back up thing. It’s fucking exhausting as hell, but...in the event I forget who I am, I guess I’ll have that to fall back on.” He knew it wasn’t the easiest way to go about it and he was probably not getting points for sensibility from anyone else. “Alice tried to tell me to do it and I wanted to pretend that I might, but...I’m a difficult asshole these days, so that didn’t happen. To be fair, she said she wasn’t going to do it either. I guess she doesn’t have her entire life to lose, but…” He shrugged slightly. “There’s a couple telepaths willing to help us if you want to back your memories up, but...it means reliving everything. So that’s the price. Not having the memories and also avoiding losing who you are or avoiding all of that and letting someone in your head and reliving whatever it was you’ve been through.” -- Eliot laughed at Quentin’s difficult asshole line. Adorable asshole when he put his mind to it, maybe. But then, Eliot and Margo had always prided themselves on being the World’s Most Difficult Bitches™. The mood lighted slightly, he loosened his grip on his friend. “I think I would rather go a magical route,” Eliot said. “I never liked the telepaths on campus.” Eliot paused and thought of Penny. He hadn’t really disliked Penny but then… Eliot cut off that line of thinking when he caught Quentin's eyes with his own and smiled. “Back up that beautiful brain of yours. One of us needs to remember being fabulous life partners.” -- He was glad for the laugh. It helped him feel a little better. “I guess we can try to figure something out,” he said after a moment. Something magical that would work. “There’s a lot of Harry Potter people around. We’ve got an in with Remus Lupin via Petunia.” But they could probably see what they could do with their own magic. Probably not alone, though. “Betsy isn’t so bad, though.” He smiled back at Eliot. “Someone has to remember your Miracle Max look. I can’t let that go without being remembered.” He paused. “And I loved you even then.” He moved to sit down again. “You want to watch a bad movie? I guess we can watch a good one instead. There’s always Princess Bride if you want to see your future.” -- Eliot’s lips curled into a heartened smile. He wasn’t sure what Quentin wanted from him, if anything. Maybe it was too late, or it was the other Eliot he wanted. Eliot wasn’t sure what he even had to offer at this point. But it was still nice to hear the words. “Bitch, I am way better looking than Billy Crystal in prosthetics,” he teased. “We can go either way. I’d be up for a movie.” What he meant was, he would be up for sitting next to one of his dearest friends and not thinking too hard about anything for the next couple of hours. -- Quentin couldn’t help but laugh at that. He wondered how the other Eliot would feel if he texted him a picture of Miracle Max and told him he’d found a picture of him. But he pushed the thought away. “If it makes you feel better, I was basically trying to go for that Merlin vibe.” He gave him a small smile before putting a movie on and reaching out for his hand to tug him onto the couch with him. They could at least have a couple hours of something normal. After that? Well, at least most of the secrets were out of the way and everything else they could figure out later. |