Q (smallobjects) wrote in somerealityrpg, @ 2021-03-17 22:16:00 |
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For the longest time, Quentin had thought that seeing his own memorial and the start of the lives his friends were able to begin because of him had been an ounce of closure for him after his death. Arriving in Goodland had shaken that up a bit, plus the addition of Julia not long after that. But still, he had resolved with himself that he would never be able to go back. That if happened to be sent away, he wouldn't go home. He wouldn't see his friends or even Julia again. The truth was, Quentin didn't know where he would be going. He hadn't gotten the chance to find out what was waiting for him past the Underworld, but he'd been okay with that. He'd found peace with that split-second decision he'd made in the Mirror Realm that cost him his life.
Mirrors, though. They were going to be the death of him in every reality, weren't they?
The first time he'd seeing the puff of smoke in his bathroom mirror nearly made Quentin jump out of his skin. The scene he'd watched unfold didn't make sense at first, but as soon as he took a second look at the young boy finish reading one of his favorite books and then go straight back to the beginning, he knew. He knew that was some version of his much younger self talking to his adult best friend.
'She needs you just as much as you need her.'
The pieces started to come together more the next day when he saw the continuation of that moment. Only this time he wasn't sitting across from Julia but next to Alice. It had been Alice to create this version of him, and really why should he be surprised? In another life, he might have been angry, even furious with her. But had be been much different when trying to get her back once upon a time? Now here he was watching little Q start to help her slowly accept what happened. Survivor's guilt was a shitty thing, and even though she was still working hers out, this moment had been the the beginning the next chapter in Alice's new book.
'I shouldn't be surprised that even at age twelve, Quentin Coldwater is still the smartest person I know.'
He saw both moments again a few times. Quentin didn't seek out mirrors, but he didn't avoid them either. So, sometimes when he wasn't expecting it, a plume of smoke would catch his attention out of the corner of his eye, he'd pause and watch, and he'd get to see them again.
St. Patrick's Day came and went, and for the most part, everyone seemed to assume that the mirrors were back to normal. A few days into it this time had been enough for all involved, and even though he wasn't necessarily upset with what he'd seen, he also didn't want to keep seeing it over and over again. So, the day after St. Patrick's, Quentin was cleaning up a few displays while at his day job at the museum when he glanced up into a metal box, a reflective metal box, and saw another puff of smoke. He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, and realized that this wasn't over. He nearly kept his eyes closed for the duration, but a new voice caught his attention.
'He wasn't just my friend.'
Quentin's eyes flashed open to see Eliot and Alice standing around a well; they were somewhere in Fillory, but in a place he didn't recognize. Seeing Eliot made his heart tighten and his eyes blink rapidly in order to keep his emotions in check. God, he'd missed him so fucking much. With Julia and Alice, it had been different. He'd gotten to see them and talk to them. They'd come out of their magical alternate lives and had worked together; he and Alice had even come to an understanding again. But Eliot... the fucked up version had been attached to his side, and he'd only been able to have a five second conversation with him until he was pulled back under by the Monster. If not for Penny taking him to the memorial, he would have never even known if he'd survived.
'We loved each other for a really, really long time. And, um, so you know, I promptly told him to fuck off, and you know-- and he-- he died for me.'
That was the moment no amount of blinking held back the few tears that fell. Two people he'd loved with all of himself if even in very different ways and times of his life. He choked back a sob but somehow still managed a sad smile at Alice's words that were followed by Eliot's admission that he'd been doing the best that he could at the time. That was kind of their thing, right? They all did they best they could at the time no matter how fucking messed up each of them were. And to anyone that knew him? It was no secret that Quentin Coldwater was royally fucked up. Pick a reason; there were plenty to choose from even on his best day.
Just like with the other visions, Quentin wasn't sorry that he'd seen this one, but he wasn't in any shape to perform for customers or tell them of the miraculous feats and wonders of Harry Houdini. He took the rest of the day and just started to walk. He didn't want to go back to the villa, not right away, but he wasn't sure where he wanted to go. At some point, he'd ended up walking around Central Park. He wasn't in a big risk of catching reflections here, and it gave him time to think.
The thing about his time with Penny in the Underworld had been about closure, sure, but it had been about his closure with himself. Acceptance of his decision; not with the friends he left behind. Showing up in Goodland and seeing person and person arrive from different worlds had given him hope that he'd see his friends again. Then Julia was here, and there had been this subconscious hope that the rest would follow. Kady, Penny, Margo. Alice. Eliot. All of them.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been walking, but eventually, Quentin sat down on a park bench and let out a heavy sigh.
Being able to see his friends find some sort of peace with was turning out to be more important to him than he realized. If anyone saw him, they probably thought he was a little crazy. None of this was funny, but he couldn't help but let out a bittersweet laugh and shifted so that he was laying back on the bench with his legs drawn and knees up. Closing his eyes, he sighed again and concentrated on the sound of his own breathing. He'd still always been fucked up, but maybe now he'd find a little more peace too.