Eliot's head was spinning. He didn't need this now. Or ever. Quentin was obviously upset and he worried most about what effect this would have on him. How the hell were two Q's here? How? More importantly, why? Couldn't the goddamn universe give them a break? He went and grabbed two bottles of good liquor then headed to Quentin's room. He stood outside the door for a few moments. Mostly because he wasn't sure how he'd find the other. To say he was worried was an understatement. He gave a knock on the door then pushed it open and walked in.
Quentin was sitting on the bed, phone still in hand. Eliot sat the alcohol on the nightstand then walked over, sat down and pulled him into his arms. He smoothed a hand down over his hair. "Please down worry." Or go to a dark place. "I'm here. I've got you always. You know that." They'd fought so hard after Eliot's arrival to get to a good place and he wasn't going to let anything fuck that up. Slowly he pulled back. "I know this is crazy and shocking, but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
It felt like Quentin's entire brain was a mess of pins and needles. His hands actually itched to pull the phone up so he could go back to obsessively hitting refresh. Each new message was a direct punch to his eyeballs, but he couldn't look away. Was that really what he sounded like, when it wasn't his own brain typing out the words? More than that, though, he clung to Eliot's back, fingers digging in like they could be an actual anchor while his world swung wildly off its axis.
He shivered where he sat, hunched into the solid warmth in front of him, and tucked his face into El's neck. "I know," he told the darkness there. And he did, even while his mind did its dead level best to tell him otherwise. He let out a shaking breath and confessed, "I hate this, but I meant what I said: I want you here. And I wasn't trying to say that you hurt me when you tease me, because I know where it comes from. I know it comes from your heart, and all it means is that you love me enough not to treat me like I'm made of glass."
It made his heart ache the way Quentin clung to him. He wanted to make things better, take away any fear, stress or worry that he knew had now wormed its way into his mind, but he couldn't. He could only be there for him and assure him, show him how much he loved him no matter what the universe threw out at them.
Eliot smoothed his hand over Quentin's back and began rubbing over it in circles. "I know you do. I'm right here. I've got you and I won't let anything happen to you." Or he'd do his damn best not to. Mental health struggles were something he would never have any control over no matter how good of a magician he was. "You're not made of glass. You're made of warmth, kindness and love." He smiled a little and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You're strong, too. More than you give yourself credit for. There's so many things that make up beautiful you and I love them all."
Q didn't cry, even though he felt like he was right on the cusp of it with every breath he took. It constricted his chest and closed up this throat. He pressed a trembling kiss to the side of Eliot's neck as the wave of compliments washed over him. None of them sounded like his personal truth or the way he saw himself, but he wasn't about to be the dick who tried to dictate the way other people saw him. His brain was a punk and a liar on the best day anyway.
This was far from the best day.
"What should we do? What should I do? I'm trying really hard not to be a possessive asshole, but I feel like I just got here and I just got you. Just got Julia. And I've already seen other-me talk about things that never happened to me. About being with Alice. I told him I didn't want spoilers, but just the way he was saying things... I don't know. It's tripping up my paranoia big time—and I hate that, too."
This was one of those times when Eliot wished he had all the answers, wished he could make things better for everyone. He could only do his best and right now he only wanted to soothe and help Quentin. "I think we should just take it one day at a time. You be you. Trust in me and us." Eliot slid his hands under Quentin's chin and tilted it up to look in his eyes. "I love you, Quentin Coldwater. I'm a possessive asshole, too. I understand. You're mine. I'm yours." It was as simple as that.
Granted this was a hell of a monkey wrench thrown into the mix. He was having a hard time dealing with it as well, but was trying to be strong. He caressed Quentin's cheek. "I know how you feel. Or I can imagine and you have every right to those feelings. Please don't bottle them up, talk to me, okay? I'm right here beside you and we'll get through this together."
A tear slid down his cheek, heart full to bursting and nowhere to go with it. Quentin swallowed roughly, and his throat clicked with it. He sat there for a long moment, just lost in Eliot's gaze. "Another fifty years," he murmured, and something settled inside him, the kind of something that pulled at his mouth, lifting it into the tiniest smile. "Peaches and plums."
His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into Eliot's touch, and he let out a long sigh. "Wanna hear some irony? I'd just started to consider going back to therapy. And then this happened. Is that the universe trying to tell me something, or what?"
Eliot gently wiped the tear away. His heart squeezing and bursting in his chest at the words. "Always another fifty years with you." His voice was thick, but soft, a smile tugging at his lips. "Peaches and plums forever." It was meant to be. No one could tell him otherwise. Quentin was his soulmate.
He tucked a few strands of hair behind Quentin's ear then reached for his hands. "I think the universe sucks a lot of the time, but I support you going to therapy if you feel you need to and want to." Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea for himself. All this wasn't going to be easy for anyone. He pulled Quentin back into his arms, holding him close. "Just know I love you and I'm always here for you no matter what."
He still wasn't on solid ground, but at least Quentin felt a little steadier now than he had when Eliot first came in. At least he knew where he stood with El, and he chose to focus on that instead of all the other unknowns currently swirling in his head. It took nothing to flow back into Eliot's hold, because he wouldn't have resisted in the first place. "Thanks, Eliot. This place might be kind of crazy-making, but it's worth it if it means we get to have this. Warts and all. I love you, too. Now and always."