WHO Jason Todd & Quentin Coldwater WHAT A checkup on an unconscious Dick, an attempt at curse breaking WHERE The Grayson-Todd apartment WHEN February 1, morning WARNINGS so much awkward idiocy it might give you brain damage
Maybe Jason should have been more worried about the whole situation.
Sure, Dick being asleep and not waking up when Jason threw water at him wasn't ideal, but he'd also checked him over completely before he'd made the post announcing the situation to the entire building. Jason knew what he was looking for; if there was any serious damage, he would have noticed it. He was just... asleep. Under any other circumstances, that would have been great, honestly. Dick didn't sleep enough.
No, neither did Jason. Shut up about it. He was comfortable with his hypocrisy.
Anyway, he was doing the best that he could. He even had someone coming over to give Dick a magical check-up, so that was probably the last option that he even had available to him. Once he was sure that Dick didn't have any injuries that would make it a bad idea to move him, he grabbed him up bridal style and carted him over to the couch. It just... it looked better, he figured, than the guy coming in and seeing him still on the floor. Nevermind that Dick had probably slept in worse places than on the floor of his own apartment...
The flowers, though, Jason didn't touch. They were still laying there when he heard a knock on the door. It only took a few steps to cross the floor and open it, looking down at the man on the other side. "Hey. Come on in. How do we do this?"
Whatever catastrophe Quentin had been building up in his head never once factored in coming face to practically-chest with the absolute unit that was Dick Grayson's brother. "Uh," he ventured intelligently after a beat too long spent blinking and doing a bit of mental shaking to get him to act remotely professional(?) and neighborly. It didn't help, because the next thing out of his mouth was: "Probably in a bed."
Mortification made him freeze, and when he swallowed, his throat audibly clicked. Smooth, Coldwater. And so not the point of any of this. But the tiny picture on the network had no way to prepare him for the sheer presence of the man in front of him. His hand twitched at his side as he remembered too late that he'd already tied his hair back for work. Instead, it settled on the messenger bag he carried; he patted the side of it inanely. "Or, uh, wherever you may have set your brother up."
"Whoa, no, he's not my... I mean, we were both... But we're not..." Had Dick said that they were brothers? Was he just trying to sell a story that explained how they knew each other and why they were living together and Jason had just messed it up? "...it's complicated."
Right, probably shouldn't leave the guy just standing in the hallway when he was there to help. Jason moved out of the way. "Dick's on the couch."
He'd move him into the bedroom eventually. After he was sure he wouldn't need to let anybody else in to check on him and potentially snoop around. Except Donna, who wouldn't find anything she didn't already know about. "I tossed some water in his face, so he's a little damp."
The social goof hit Q like a two-by-four, but at least he didn't start stuttering out his own disjointed apology until after Jason was finished. "Hey, no. No way. That was all on me. The dynamic, it's— I made an assumption, and you know what that makes me, right?" Quentin chuckled weakly, then quickly waved his hands as he scooted into the room. Which of course meant he knocked his fingers against Jason’s chest, because that was his life. "Not that you're an ass! I'm sure you have a very nice one, though."
Jason had a nice... huh. He blinked a couple times, processing that, then hid a small, quick smile behind his hand. Okay, yeah, he was a little slow, but even he couldn't miss that one.
God. Dammit. It would be so great if Ember would spontaneously resurrect and show up right then so he could turn Q into a halibut or a houseplant or something.
No such luck.
"I can work with a little wet, don't worry." Not better! He would later blame all of this on a distinct lack of caffeine, because he was a lying liar who lied (especially to himself). Quentin bustled over to the prone not-brother on the couch and got down to seeing if he could figure out the problem. From his bag he took a length of colored glass and held it up. In an instant, Dick's body lit up in a pulsing red through the glass. Q took an involuntary step back. "He's been cursed."
That wiped out the last curl of pleasure in Jason's gut at the sort of compliment. Cursed. "That sounds bad. So... cursed. What do we do with cursed, is there some kind of curse breaker around here, maybe?"
He didn't know! He'd researched people as much as he could, but there was only so much he could manage when he was also rebuilding his resources from scratch.
Quentin chewed on his lip as he continued to scan Dick's body. Tendrils of energy danced around the edges. He thought that might be the end of it, but a thin string caught his attention. "I don't know about curse breakers specifically." Turning slowly, he started following the line, wondering if it might reveal the source. At the very least, maybe Quentin could help keep Jason from meeting the same fate. "There are a few magic users, though. A few native to this universe—or native enough that the magic matches. Things get complicated from there, so I'll spare you my theory about the source of magic and how it applies to the multiverse."
Looking back, he flashed a quick grin over his shoulder, then went back on his slow hunt. "I'm kind of a huge nerd. Okay, that's a lie. Not kind of. Just 'am', full stop." The line connection stopped at the bundle of flowers Q hadn't even seen when he came in. In his defense, he'd been very distracted upon his arrival. "You haven't touched these, right? The mystery flowers? Because, uh, I think this is what got Dick."
"Thought it might be," Jason said, not at all ruffled by the thought. "We've got a villain back home, Poison Ivy. She uses plants for all her dirty work."
So, cursed flowers? Not really a big shock to his system. "So, if we know what caused it, does that help us... get rid of it?"
Dick was fine. He knew Dick was fine. He was breathing, his heart was beating, he was just asleep. Jason wasn't worried, not really. But he would rather have Dick awake and being his usual pain in the ass self.
Quentin had to blink at the mention of Poison Ivy. "Kind of on the nose, huh?" he muttered, but who was he to judge another person's universe? Fillory had the Cock Barrens, for chrissakes, not to mention the Great Cock. Only one of those was actually phallus-based, though. He… was thinking too much about that. For sure. Focus. Don't say anything (else) stupid. "Takes all kinds, I guess."
What did that even mean?
He chanced a glance at Jason, and though he didn't know the man very well beyond a few comments on the network, he thought he sensed a ripple of concern. Maybe it was just the vibe. Q chewed on the inside corner of his lip, considering his options. "Curse magic isn't really my specialty, but maybe we could try burning them? The flowers. Not Dick, obviously. He probably wouldn't like it. Although, he could be into that. I try not to kink shame." Oh. God. "Do you, uh, have a bowl and a pair of tongs? I'd rather not set your floor on fire."
Jason couldn't help it; he was worried, but he smiled a little anyway. "You can kink shame Dick as much as you want to. I mean, he's asleep, he can't hear you anyway."
Even if he was awake, Jason would probably tease him about it. Especially if he was awake... that made it even more fun. Not that... sure, Jason wasn't a virgin, but he hadn't exactly had many opportunities to explore kinks, of all things. It had all been pretty vanilla... and this was not the time to think about it.
Or maybe, he thought, glancing at Quentin again, it was the perfect time. He didn't know.
"Uh, yeah, we have a bowl. I don't know about tongs." Actually, Jason was pretty sure they didn't have them, because why would he and Dick have thought to pick up something like that. "We can... try picking them up with a couple of forks?"
That was what you did when you didn't have tongs, right?
Quentin frowned. Not because he was overly displeased, but because the last thing he wanted was for Jason to touch the probably cursed flowers and wind up sprawled out on the floor. A quick glance over was all Q needed to know there was no way he'd be able to lift him up and get him to somewhere more comfortable. (Like the bed, his brain cheerfully supplied. His face felt warm. Dammit.) "I mean, I'd prefer a sword at this point, but I doubt you guys have one of those lying around."
He laughed weakly, then shook his head. "Okay, bowl, then flowers in the bowl, please?"
"I've got this," Jason said; he sounded confident at least, and if he was showing off a little then who was going to call him on it? Dick was asleep, he couldn't see any of this to make fun of him for trying to impress Quentin.
...and honestly, they probably did have a sword around somewhere, but he wasn't about to go digging through their rooms and supplies for it and invite all the questions that would open up.
He did manage to find two forks in the kitchen, though, and a big enough bowl that he thought he could probably fit everything into it (it was probably for mixing or something, and who did they think they were kidding that they were going to do something that required mixing?). It was not the most elegant of maneuvers; he managed to tip and tilt things to scoop the vase itself into the mixing bowl with one fork, and then used the two of them together to pick up stray flowers on the floor. When he sat back, it was with a triumphant sound.
"Told you. Got it." He looked up at Quentin from his position kneeling on the ground with a broad grin, in spite of the circumstances.
For a single, totally damning second, Quentin totally forgot why he was standing in the Grayson-Todd apartment. That was the effect of suddenly finding himself looking down at Jason on his knees, and smiling like that. While the other had worked to get the flowers into the bowl, Q had been gearing himself up for his plan. He knew the spell, but sometimes circumstances could be off in this place. Fortunately, he'd been there long enough to adjust for most of them, but what he intended could go very wrong if he got enough of the variables, well, wrong.
But now Jason looked so pleased with himself, and all that planning nearly exited his head, stage left, pursued by bear. Q had to bite the inside of his cheek just to keep from smiling, lips pressing in hard together but still trembling a little. Before he could give the bad impression that he was trying not to laugh at Jason—which was seriously the last thing unhelpfully in his head right in that moment, he blurted, "Good job. Very nicely done. Uh… Could you open a window or the door to the terrace? There shouldn't be an issue, but, um, just in case."
"Yeah, no problem," Jason told him. After all, Quentin was doing him (well, Dick) a favor. The least he could do was open a window. Or... no, probably the door, that seemed like it was going to be easier and better ventilation, which... he assumed was the purpose?
"I guess I should probably ask what you're going to do," he mused, "before I turn you loose to go wild with Dick's unconscious body."
Quentin looked over sharply, eyes wide and shocked. "What? No! No, no. Not his— Just the flowers. Sometimes burning the object ends whatever the curse is. At the very least, it doesn't shouldn't make it worse. I don't think he can get much more asleep. Worst case scenario, we get hit with some kind of magical backlash of unknown consequence." He frowned. "I have… some confidence I can do this. Maybe you should wait in the hall?"
"Nah, I believe in you," Jason told him. "And I'd rather be in here if something goes wrong... I mean, there's not much I can do, but I'd rather be close enough to put out a fire if I need to."
He'd had some training, but it was mainly in countering magic in combat. He didn't think that was going to be very useful, here, and he didn't think it was even worth mentioning, honestly. He usually didn't, not until he actually needed to use what he'd learned.
"Anything else I can do to help?" Jason spread his hands to the sides. "I'm all yours."
He was at least good at being an extra pair of hands, he guessed.
Q's mouth opened, but no sound came out for a second. Focus He shut it again and gulped before turning toward the flowers and mumbling, "I'll keep that in mind." Past that, it was familiar enough to call up the spell. He could still remember the first time he'd seen Alice use it in the Brakebills, thinking how effortless it had seemed and impossible for him to be able to do it. But then he'd been trapped in the past with Eliot and the mosaic, and he'd learned and practiced a great many spells, so this one was almost second nature. It really was just a matter of figuring out the current circumstances.
He did the tut. The flowers caught in an instant with a flare of blue-green-yellow fire. Quentin watched the conflagration to make sure it wouldn't rage out of control, then shifted his attention to Dick. And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The flowers burned to ash quickly. Dick was still asleep. He turned to Jason, frowning and deeply contrite. "I'm so sorry. I just thought— I'm sorry. This is way beyond me."
"No, don't be... you don't have to be sorry. I knew it was a longshot," Jason said, shrugging one shoulder. A little worry was creeping in now, but... "His breathing isn't distressed. His heart rate is normal for someone sleeping. He's fine. So we just... watch him a few days, right? See if it wears off on its own, and if it doesn't..."
If it didn't, Jason would come up with some other kind of plan.
His hand landed on Quentin's shoulder and he gave it a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate you coming over here. I really appreciate you trying."
Q's answering smile was a crooked mess of a thing, but at least it was genuine. He yanked his thoughts away from big-warm-steady-wonder what it would feel like if, because priorities, goddammit. "Yeah, of course. Anytime. You and y—Dick are good people. If we don't look out for each other, what've we got? I'm gonna go and do some research, see if there's anything this world can offer by way of credible curse breaking. Are you… Are you going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine," Jason assured him, firmly but not harshly. Practically forbidding Quentin to worry about him, honestly, even if he knew that it was probably futile. "Call me if there's anything you need me to do to help out with it. Here, lemme give you my..."
He fished out his phone, not sure if he was supposed to add a new contact or just text him and why was he so bad at meeting new people.
In his experience, people who said they were fine when the fan was covered in excrement were just covering for being the opposite. But who was Quentin to deny a guy a 'fine'. He did, however, take that small pause as a moment of societal uncertainty, which means he quickly grabbed Jason's phone and added himself. "Text me if something changes. Or call. Whatever. I'm still so sorry about Dick. Everything crossed he'll be right as rain as soon as possible."
What was he, eighty? Who said that? Ugh. Q really needed to leave before he said or did anything else more ridiculous.