Eliot (magicianeliot) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-12-06 17:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: eliot waugh |
Who: Quentin Cold Water & Eliot Waugh
What: Creating a memorial for Quentin's Dad
When: Back dated to early November
Where: Outside behind The Physical Kids Cottage
Warnings: Talk of death, trauma
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Eliot had been deeply saddened to learn of Quentin's fathers passing. He.d knew he had cancer, but had believed, had hoped he would beat it. He wasn't even able be there for Q when his father passed because of the monster. Perhaps that was his doing. He had shot the thing which he wasn't supposed to do. So there was some guilt mixed in with the sadness he felt. Quentin seemed to not really want to delve too deeply into and he respected that. He just wanted him to know he was there for him and could talk to him.
That was how Eliot had come up with the memorial idea. Quentin couldn't visit his father's grave like most people. No one could that was pulled into Vallo, but that was beside the point. He'd talked to Quentin about it and been given approval.
So Eliot had gone into the city and procured items to make the rock garden they'd discussed. A little magic was used on the rocks because they were heavy. The flowers and garden tools were easy enough, and the other items he'd left for Quentin to find. Personal trinkets, objects that reminded him of his dad, or that were personal to him.
He stood behind the cottage where the gray and white stones were now in a pile along with the perennial flowers that Quentin had chosen. Eliot went inside the to find Quentin and let him know that everything was ready.
Considering the time of year, Quentin had suggested a fall perennial called Sneezeweed. Stupid name, sure, but they were a vibrant flower that blossomed in the fall and it just seemed appropriate. They could plant some spring flowers later on -- you know, in spring. The memorial would be a little bare for now, but time would help that. Q knew it.
While Eliot was prepping everything behind the cottage, Q had let himself get a bit lost in his thoughts at the table in the makeshift dining room with the giant TADA letters glowing on the wall behind him. In his hand was a small model airplane -- newly taken out of packaging and in pieces in front of him. The last time he'd touched one of these, at least as far as his memories were concerned, was when he'd gone to clean up the numerous model airplanes (and then some) his dad had left behind after his death.
So he sat, staring at the pieces, his mind feeling like it was full of static as he decided what he needed to do, not registering much other than the memories associated with the little toy in front of him.
Eliot found Quentin sitting at the table. He stood quietly for a few moments. Quentin didn't acknowledge him. Perhaps he was lost in his own thoughts. He hoped this hadn't been a bad idea. Q could be so fragile. That wasn't Eliot saying there was something wrong with him or it was bad. It was just Quentin. He was a sensitive soul.
He quietly approached him, then gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?" Eliot moved to sit in the chair beside Quentin. His gaze moved to the model airplane in pieces. He knew why his friend had chosen a model airplane. It was a nice homage and memory of his father. "I've got everything ready outside, but there's no rush. Take all the time you need."
The static in his head softened when Eliot's hand fell to his shoulder, the gentle weight of it pulling him from his own thoughts -- though how he hadn't noticed the taller man even enter the room was beyond him. "Hm?" he quietly questioned, finally moving his eyes from the model airplane to him as he sat down.
"Yeah, um, I'm... fine, I think." Q paused then, looking back at the pieces on the table, unable to keep himself from frowning as he looked at them. "It just, it kind of sucks, you know? That I'll never get to see him again. I mean, I will if I get sent back home -- which I don't want, honestly." No, Vallo was better than home at this point, he'd come to realize that recently. "But even that has conditions. Being sent back home. Ugh. Sorry, I'm rambling." He looked back over at Eliot, eyebrows furrowed sadly. "Were you able to get the flowers I suggested? It's not a big deal if you couldn't. They've got a weird name and it could be too late in the season anyways."
Eliot smiled sadly. "I know, but you did get to talk with him and you have memories of him that are forever in your heart." He didn't want to think about Quentin going back home. That couldn't happen. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he did. He placed a hand over Quentin's and squeezed. "You're fine. Not rambling."
He nodded. "Yes, I was able to get the flowers you wanted. Vallo has a couple of nice plant nurseries. We'll have to go back to them in the spring if you want to plant more flowers." Eliot looked back to the plane and paused before he spoke again. "Do you want some help with that?" he asked gesturing to the model airplane pieces.
Forever in his heart as long as he stayed in Vallo, at least. That sort of realization, that he could be taken away as easily as he was brought here, was forever gnawing at the back of his mind. He tried not to think about it.
Q frowned a little and turned his hand over underneath Eliot's, returning the squeeze gently. "Good, that's good to know. I think getting more flowers in the spring will be nice, but the fall flowers will be good, too." His attention drifted back to the model airplane, following Eliot's gaze and he shook his head slightly in response. "No, I've got it. I just--" He just what? Quentin pushed out a soft sigh and slid his hand out from under Eliot's, lifting it and his other up.
Without any work whatsoever, the pieces of the plane began to hover off of the table, first in a clump and then separating to re-organize themselves midair. Carefully it pieced together bit by bit, until it formed the plane entirely. Q even used a bit of extra magic to let it fly around the room, circling over their heads once or twice before coming in for an easy landing on the table top in front of them. "Repair of small objects. That's my discipline. Mayakovsky told me."
"Of course. We don't have to add more in the spring if you don't want to. It was only a suggestion." Eliot could clearly see that Quentin was emotional. He wanted to do all he could to be a pillar of support and strength for him. He knew this wasn't easy.
Eliot nodded when Quentin pulled his hand away and lifted them up. He watched the airplane pieces rise from the table then slowly come together to complete it. A small smile tugged at his lips as it flew above their heads then landed on the table. When Quentin spoke again Eliot felt tears rise in his eyes. Q had learned his discipline. "Well done, Q," he said leaning over pull him into a hug.
He held him for a long moment. "Are you ready to go outside? Or is there anything else we...you need to do?"
Of course, it was that same discipline that had been his ultimate undoing, too. Used it to save the world, to save Eliot from the monster, but he couldn't use it to save himself. Just a minor mending, he'd said before fixing the mirror that was the portal to the Seam. He'd known what doing that meant, but it was better than the alternative.
He fell gently against Eliot when the other man pulled him into a hug, his head resting against his shoulder, eyes closing. It felt good to be held by him. "I just need to weather-proof the plane, but otherwise I think I'm ready." Except he didn't move, not wanting to spoil this moment for what it was. "Thank you for doing this for me. With me. It really means a lot, you know. I wish you'd gotten the chance to meet my dad -- I think he would've really liked you."
Eliot leaned his head against Quentin's. He didn't move either. If Quentin needed and wanted to be held right now that's what he would do. There was no rush. "You really don't need to thank me. I wanted to do this. I hope that in some way it will help with your grieving." And in the long run.
He smiled a little."Think so? Does he like openly gay, well dressed, eye liner wearing men?" He felt it was okay to tease a bit. At least he hoped so. "I wish I could have met him, too." His thoughts wandered to Teddy momentarily. Quentin was so proud of him, such a good dad. It would have been nice if his father could have met his grandson.
Q quietly hoped for the same. He'd been dealing with so much emotionally ever since waking up from that coma that having the suggestion of making a memorial of some kind to honor his dad here had been both surprising and appreciated. He just hoped Eliot knew what it meant to him.
After a few beats he shifted enough to tilt his head, looking up at Eliot through slightly furrowed brows. "He didn't care that I'm bi," he remarked easily. And it was true. His dad loved him for him, even if sometimes he didn't quite understand what was going on in his head. "I think... I think he would have really accepted you. Honestly. Been proud of you and of us."
Quentin wished he could describe the way his father's expression had lit up when he told him about Teddy, but he knew he could never do it justice. He pulled back then after a moment, just enough to properly look up at Eliot, before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
"I was teasing a bit," Eliot said meeting his gaze. "Sorry. It's not the time to tease." Even though he'd never met Quentin's dad he knew he was a good man and loved dearly by Quentin. "Yeah? That's good. I'm not always a picnic. But I agree, your dad was proud of you."
Eliot returned the sweet kiss and cupped Quentin's cheek. "I got a little something for the memorial. I hope you don't mind." He reached into the pocket of the coat he wore and pulled out a small figurine of an angel. "I don't believe in God or some deity, but I like the idea of angels. If you don't want in the memorial I understand and it's no problem."
"I mean, to be fair, I'm not always a picnic either. In and out of mental hospitals before you ever met me, he was always fussing about making sure I took my meds, all of it. I know I was always a stress factor for him on some level, but he loved me regardless."
Feeling the kiss returned help him to relax a bit, to let that little ball of grief-laced anxiety to ease inside of his chest. When Eliot pulled out the small angel figurine, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. The smile was small, but there. "I'd love to include it," he replied quietly as he reached for the angel gently. "I like the idea of angels too, though... thank god we as a species didn't really latch onto the idea of Biblical angels, huh? Not with the way they supposedly look." Q snorted softly and then looked back up at Eliot, smiling. "Thank you. For everything. I mean it, this was really sweet of you."
"What a pair we are then." Eliot knew about Quentin and his mental health. He didn't always like talking about it. It was his hope that Quentin knew he was there if and when he did need or want to talk about it. "Of course he loved you. He raised a smart, kind and beautiful son. I'm certain he had a lot of pride in you."
"Biblical, no. I believe they're spiritual guides and guardians." That was part of the reason he'd bought the figurine. "You don't need to thank me. I wanted to do it for you." He smiled softly then stood. "Grab your coat and lets head outside. I need to get to planting the flowers."
Q paused a moment and then nodded, still smiling, still looking up at Eliot with that sort of expression that read you mean the world to me. "My coat's upstairs, because of course I forgot it." Then he rolled his eyes a little at himself before leaning up on his toes to wrap his arms around Eliot in a firm embrace. "I hope my dad actually knew how much I loved him. I think he did, but..." His shoulders lifted and dropped in a small shrug as he stepped back. "I'll meet you outside in a minute, okay?"
Eliot grinned. "Go get it you silly." He slid his arms around Quentin and returned the embrace, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "He did, Q. I know he did."
"Okay," he nodded before stepping away then going out to the back of the cottage. Eliot used magic to place the rocks in a large boxy rectangle alternating the gray and white stones. He then took out the spade and garden gloves. He got down on his knees and began digging holes.
Eliot heard Quentin approaching and paused. "I need to tell you something." He looked up at the other. "Because it's so late in fall these aren't going to last very long, but they will come back next year. I just have to get some hay to put over them. And we can plant more next year with other flowers." He handed one of the plants to Quentin and told him to go ahead and add it to one of the holes he'd dug. Together they planted the rest. "They're nice," he said as he stood then dusted of his pants. "I need to go get some water," he said taking off the gloves. "I'll be right back."
Quentin was quiet with his approach once he'd fetched his jacket, watching Eliot work to dig space for the flowers he'd bought for the memorial. They really were nice -- vibrant and something that would at least last, he assumed, until the first frost. Whenever that was. He made his presence known after a couple of moments by purposefully stepping on a small twig to make it crack and he offered Eliot a smile. "Oh, that's all right, you know? It's so late in the year at this point, that doesn't surprise me. We'll just get some flowers in the spring so there's something out here at least most of the year."
When they were finished with the flowers, Q climbed back to his feet and brushed off the knees of his own pants as he looked at it. "It's really nice," he commented, his voice soft and sincere. When Eliot remarked that he needed to go get some water, he gave a small nod and turned his attention back to the memorial. Then he took out the small angel figurine from his pocket and reached for the model airplane he'd set aside before helping plant the flowers and set them both in what he'd determined to be their appropriate spots. Stepping back again, he did a short series of finger tuts to magically weather-proof the items, making sure that they'd remain intact no matter the time of year. "There."
Eliot returned the smile. "When these are gone we can get some nice silk ones and weather-proof them." It would be nice to have some flowers year round for when and if Quentin wanted to visit the memorial. He had thought maybe in the spring they could get a bench and maybe plant some shrubs or something.
Eliot returned and watered the flowers. He moved to stand beside Quentin and slid his arm around his waist. They stood there for a few moments in silence. "Do you want to say anything?"
"That? Is a great plan. Silk flowers. Then they'll never die off." And the memorial would look vibrant year round. Q thought about it a moment and smiled to himself, before relaxing into Eliot's side when he felt the other man's arm go around his waist. It was nice. This was nice. The memorial, which Quentin would always be thankful Eliot had brought up as an idea of something to do since he couldn't exactly go and visit his dad's actual grave.
He gave a small shake of his head and then stood up a bit straighter again, glancing up at him. "No, I think he knows everything I'd want to say." Then he turned his head back to look at the memorial, eyeing it quietly. "I'm glad I have this now though."
"Then we'll get some when you feel up to it." Eliot was glad Quentin liked the idea and the memorial. He knew how important his dad had been to him and always would be.
He nodded understanding Quentin not wanting to say anything. He hoped he would come to the memorial and talk to his dad if he ever felt the need. "You'll always have this special place for him." Eliot shifted and pulled him into a full on hug holding him close. He wouldn't let go until Quentin was ready.