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Quentin Coldwater (lostinbetween) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-06-05 20:32:00

Who: Quentin Coldwater & Alex Manes
What: Quentin's doing that thing he does and fails to notice the rest of the world, Alex included
When: 3rd June
Where: Random coffee shop
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Some mentions of Quentin's canon depression and its consequences
Status: Complete

Even though Julia had reassured him that the dreams weren't real Quentin couldn't help but obsess as he did because honestly he was a lot more neurotic than he appeared, less neurotic than the Quentin in his dreams but still neurotic enough to be bothered by a dream. The marks on his wrist hadn't vanished either and that disturbed him more than it should though thankfully he had long enough sleeves so they were easy enough to hide.

He was sat in some random coffee shop, pouring over the network as he read through others experiences with dreams and was most definitely not thinking about what he'd dreamt about that was vivid and included people that he'd met in the 'real world' because he knew that the other world couldn't real unless it was some sort of alternate reality attempting to creep in?

No, that sounded insane, crazy even. Batshit crazy to be exact.

Yeah, no, never say any of that aloud or maybe he'd wind up in the same place- No, not thinking that either, stay focused, Quentin Coldwater. And so focused was he on what he was doing that he didn't even notice what was going on in the world around him.

Which was probably how he missed Alex Manes - who had been calling his name for about thirty seconds - sliding into the seat opposite him. He had a coffee and two lemon muffins - since he’d spotted Quentin when he came in and the guy looked like he needed a pick me up.

“Hey, Q- you okay?” Alex was concerned, and it showed.

Quentin really was so completely wrapped up in what he was doing that he had totally missed Alex and it showed with how he jumped practically out of his skin when Alex suddenly swam into his vision. "Uh, yeah, sorry," he said hurriedly as he smoothed down his hair and tried to unruffle his clearly ruffled feathers from being caught offguard. "Just really-" He cleared his throat and shook his head to try and shake everything off, offering Alex a smile.

"Hi."

Alex smiled a little, pushing the second plate towards Quentin, knife resting on the plate beside the lemon muffin (since he'd seen Quentin eating one before and he figured that at the very least he liked that flavour). "Hey," he greeted quietly, tone gentle and soft so that he wasn't doing anything that might have thrown Quentin's obviously delicate equilibrium off. "You okay?" The question bared repeating on the basis that Quentin hadn't actually answered it.

Quentin's eyes tracked away from Alex and to the plate being pushed towards him and he gave a guilty smile as he realised how nice and thoughtful it was of Alex to get him a muffin he actually liked and that he'd been pretty terrible at greeting him. "Uh, yeah. I just haven't really got a lot of sleep lately so I'm sorta wired." Coffee wasn't helping but in Quentin's mind it was definitely better to be awake than Freddy Kreuger'ed in his sleep. Not so much death but everything else being so... dark and disturbing, it was definitely the thing of nightmares. Of course it could be worse as evident by the many horror stories available on the network.

"Thank you for the muffin though, I should probably eat something to soak up all the caffeine."

He caught his lower lip with his teeth and looked up at Alex. "How are you?"

Alex's eyebrows lifted. "Yeah, better eat that as a start, then I'll take you out for proper food. If you've been mainlining caffeine you'll need something more substantial than a muffin."

He sipped his coffee and shrugged. "I'm okay," he answered, his ribs still hurt but they would for a while. "How come you've not been sleeping?" Because honestly that was the major concern he had right now; Quentin was a good guy, and a good friend, and Alex didn't like the idea that something was troubling him.

Quentin reached out for the knife though as he did he got a sudden rather unwelcome flash to a distinct moment in the dream that he could still remember as viscerally as if it had happened in the moment and he unceremoniously dropped it where it clattered just loud enough to draw a ton of attention.

Okay, well now he just looked stupid and everybody was looking at him.

Shit, fuck, shit.

"It's nothing," he said hurriedly with a shake of his head. "Just a bad case of insomnia."

Alex knew that look that flashed across Quentin's face. He knew it because he'd seen it on other people in VA counselling sessions. He'd seen it on his own face in the mirror once or twice. He reached out and caught the knife under the flat of his palm to stop it from rattling any more than it did immediately. The panic that crossed Quentin's face was enough to make his stomach twist.

"It's okay- everyone fumbles shit once in a while," he said reassuringly. "But if you don't mind me being honest, I'm calling bullshit on the insomnia thing."

Quentin restlessly picked at the muffin and popped a piece into his mouth to chew on it slowly as he tried to push away some very unwanted some very unwelcome feelings that he could really do without.

"Just bad dreams," he offered a moment later with a shrug.

"Like... run-of-the-mill bad dreams?" Alex asked, unwrapping his muffin and tipping it on its side. He always ate them bottom up, which he knew was weird but the top bit was his favourite, so sue him. "Or something else?"

Quentin reached up to fiddle with his ear but then caught himself as that was a nervous habit from dream!Quentin not actual reality!Quentin. "Something else because generally speaking run-of-the-mill bad dreams for me include but are not limited to being naked in class, failing an exam, that sort of thing."

Alex tilted his head, watching Quentin's aborted move before he just wet his lower lip, eyes catching the edge of something underneath Quentin's sleeve. Sharp eyes saw that it looked like a scar, and it hadn't been there the last time he'd seen Quentin. He didn't grab for his wrist, but he filed it away.

"Dreams like that are going around," he shared softly, in a way that he hoped Quentin would understand meant that he could talk about it because Alex would understand.

Quentin glanced up at Alex as he caught what he was saying without it being obvious. Of course he appreciated the offer to talk and get stuff off his chest but he knew for a fact that his dream would change the way he was viewed. He’d be seen as more fragile and more delicate and he did not want that. Not here. Not now. Not with Alex, especially.

“It’s not real though, right? So that’s what I’m going to hold on to.” He reached out to close the laptop he was currently using to peruse the network system.

"Yeah," Alex murmured softly, "it's not real, but that doesn't change the way that they impact us. I mean- there are real world consequences for some of these dreams." His eyes dropped to Quentin's wrist and he wet his lower lip. "And that's freaky."

Quentin couldn’t help but notice where Alex’s gaze had dropped to and lingered and he felt a lump forming in the back of his throat. “I should- I mean, I just remembered I need to be somewhere.”

He hurriedly packed up his things and got to his feet, the strap of a new yet strangely familiar leather satchel being slipped over his shoulder. “I’ll uh talk to you later.”

Quentin walked away but paused beside Alex, hands fidgeting with the strap of that satchel in restless twisting motions. “Thanks for checking in.”

Alex frowned a little, reaching out to catch Quentin’s wrist, touch gentle. “It’s okay,” he said, “you- you don’t gotta leave. It’s- fuck, I woke up from a dream looking like I’d just been hit be a streamroller.”

He didn’t let go, just met Quentin’s eyes. “You don’t have to leave, Q.”

Quentin swallowed hard when Alex caught his wrist and his eyes seemingly couldn’t pick where they wanted to focus if the darting around was any indication. Then of course Alex shared what he did and Quentin finally looked at him, concern blossoming across his face and he immediately put aside his own shit in favour of grabbing a seat next to Alex.

“Are you okay?”

Alex nodded, unable to help the way his lips curled up into a smile at the way Quentin's discomfort immediately disappeared in favour of focusing on someone else. He really was something. "Y-yeah," he said with an easier nod, "My ribs are still broken, but I'm okay. I just- I get it. The dreams are a mess, and you can always talk to me if you need someone to talk to, y'know?"

Quentin grimaced in sympathy when Alex mentioned his ribs were still broken. “That sucks.” And it did. Alex was a nice guy who didn’t deserve shit like that. “You realise the whole talking thing does both ways, right? Not about to unload all of my personal crap on you without being willing to return the favour.”

"It's nothing I've not dealt with before," Alex reassured, momentarily forgetting that most people weren't accustomed to broken or bruised ribs. He wet his lower lip. "Are you okay?" Because that was the most important question.

Quentin’s brow furrowed and he reached out to curl his hand around Alex’s forearm. “Doesn’t mean it sucks any less.” Familiarity didn’t make things okay especially if they involved broken ribs.

Was he okay? That was the million dollar question and honestly Quentin didn’t know how to answer it.

“Truthfully? I have no idea.”

Alex covered Quentin's hand and squeezed gently, indicating the muffin with his chin and one eyebrow lfiting to silently tell Quentin to go back to eating it. He looked like he needed something sugary, and honestly, probably lunch too. If he wasn't rushing away, now, at least Alex might offer to go grab something to eat with him. "It is what it is, Q."

He sighed heavily, glad at least that the other man was being honest. "I- whatever's going on in your dreams, Q- whatever it is, you're not alone, you know that, right?"

Quentin rolled his eyes affectionately as Alex reminded him about his muffin and with a parting squeeze he turned back to continue picking at it.

The muscles in his jaw ticked as he swallowed and nodded, gaze lingering on the knife before he caught himself and just looked away forcibly. “Yeah, I mean, I know that. I woke Julia from a dead sleep as soon as it happened because I just needed- I don’t know, I just needed to see her and know that the dream wasn’t real.”

Alex had met Julia once. She'd seemed kind enough, though he was pretty sure her slightly frosty attitude had been more protective than anything else. He got that; she didn't know Alex and probably needed time to trust that he wasn't going to do anything to hurt Quentin. He nodded, "Well, that's good. I wish Kyle had done that when he'd had a but of his dream that included me rather than avoiding me for a week. I'm glad you've got her."

“Did you guys work everything out?” Quentin asked as he swallowed a piece of the muffin. “And me too. She’s the greatest.”

"Yeah, eventually," Alex said with a nod of his head, wetting his lower lip and pulling his muffin apart a little more, continuing to eat the bottom bit first, turning it upside down properly rather than laying it on its side and spearing it with his fork. "Yeah?" he asked, "That's cool, Q."

“Even if in my dream I was a total asshole to her,” Quentin said with a shake of his head. “But glad you and Kyle worked things out. I know you were stressed out about that.”

Alex chuckled, "You and Kyle oughta have a conversation about being jerks in your dreams," he teased softly. "You just gotta remember that what's being dreamed about isn't you."

“Yeah, it’s just easier said than done.” When you were left with marks that wouldn’t go away anytime soon. “Some of that dream shit sticks with you.”

"Believe me," Alex said quietly, "I know. It's good to talk about it though," he added, ignoring the small part of his mind that sounded like Valenti and was calling him a hypocrite. "Get it out in the open."

“Did you?” Quentin asked, genuinely curious .

Alex looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he wet his lower lip. "I- uh-"

Quentin arched an eyebrow. “Are you, Alex Manes, telling me to talk when you haven’t done that yourself?” He tsk’ed quietly and shook his head. “For shame.” He popped another piece of muffin into his mouth and smiled like the cat that got the cream.

Alex rolled his eyes. He was going to argue that it wasn't the done thing in his house, they didn't talk about anything. That he'd been in the Air Force for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to be vulnerable when he wasn't trying to protect or help his men. Instead he just sighed. "Trying to stop you from making the same mistake as me?"

“Well, it’s never too late to right a mistake,” Quentin pointed out as he took to fiddling with hair that had escaped from behind his ear.

Alex's eyebrows lifted. "When did this become about me, Q? You're the one fresh off a dream. Besides, I did talk about it eventually."

Quentin gave a small guilty smirk and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. “When I got the feeling you weren’t doing the talking thing but as long as you did that’s what matters, not when you did it.”

Alex balled up a small piece of his muffin and threw it at Quentin. "I mean it, though, I can listen if you wanna talk, and if it's a secret for a secret, I can probably oblige."

Quentin chuckled when he was lightly hit in the chest with a balled up piece of muffin. “I dunno,” he said with a shake of his head. “I kinda like how you see me and I’m pretty sure that nobody looks at the guy I am in that dream and thinks that’s somebody I want to spend time with.”

Alex felt his forehead crease. "And how do I look at you, Q?" he asked, leaning back in the seat and popping a piece of muffin into his mouth, instead of making his friend wear it. "Believe me, if you-" He blew out a breath. "There's stuff about me, too, that'd make people think differently of me. So I get that. But it wouldn't change anything, I'd be more of a hypocrite if it did."

“Like I’m not a total loser?” Quentin ventured. Realistically he knew that he wasn’t a loser because who he was in this reality was nothing like the Quentin in his dreams but still he was having a hard time shaking it off.

Alex's eyebrows lifted, lips quirking up into an affectionate, but teasing, smile. "I wouldn't say that..." he drawled, knocking Quentin's foot playfully under the table, though he didn't linger long and shifted, tucking his good leg underneath himself, jostling the table slightly as he did. "You're not a loser, Q, and whatever happened in your dream wouldn't make me think you were anyway."

"Even if dream me tried to... " He worried his lower lip, glanced away and fiddled with his hair as he barely whispered "kill himself?"

Alex hadn't quite been expecting that and he resisted the urge to reach across the table. "Even if that's what happened," he reassured. "Fuck, that musta been something pretty horrible to wake up to, huh."

Quentin just lifted his eyebrows and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Upside, I didn't wake up bleeding." Just scarred and traumatised, small blessings?

Alex blew out a breath and then nodded his head, "That is an upside." He thought about how he'd felt waking up looking like he'd been inside a washer-dryer and was glad, at least, that Quentin had woken up with healed injuries rather than fresh ones. "Serious question though- do you need to talk about it?"

Quentin blew a breath out and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. "Honestly? I have no idea." He glanced over at Alex before he leaned forward to help himself to another piece of muffin. "Is that weird to say?"

Alex shook his head. "Not at all," he offered, "because hell if I knew if I needed to talk about my dreams. How do you even begin to talk to someone about that?"

Quentin gave Alex a small smile and rubbed his fingers through his hair. "Thankfully I am now gainfully employed so that'll definitely keep my mind off the dream." And from looking at the network it didn't look like they'd be stopping anytime soon so he wondered what else was waiting for him.

"And if you ever need to talk," Alex finished, "you know where I am." He lifted a shoulder, accepting that Quentin didn't want to talk and he wasn't like Kyle: Alex got the impression that if Quentin was ready to talk it would just pour out of him, he wouldn't need to be prodded too much.

His eyebrow lifted. "For now, you wanna grab some lunch? Gotta keep soaking up that caffeine."

"Right back at you," Quentin said easily and without thought before he nodded his head. "Yeah, lunch. That would be good. I could and should definitely eat." He hadn't eaten anything in a while and that was kind of worrying, not great self care, not at all. He put it down to his being very distracted.

"It can be a caffeine-soaking mixed with a congrats for the new job lunch," Alex said with a smile, finishing up his muffin quickly and waving for Quentin to do the same. "C'mon, and you can tell me about your new job on the way."

Quentin basically shovelled the muffin into his mouth before he grabbed up his things and fell into step beside Alex, thankfully waiting until he'd swallowed before he starting to tell the other man all about his new job.

For now his dream forgotten.