The tea he'd made himself had long ago gone cold. However, the bottle of vodka he held was nearly half empty. It helped to numb him to the memories that were now a permanent part of him. Memories he wished he didn't have. Eliot hadn't showered in two days and wore pyjamas that were three days' worth of wear. The blanket Quentin insisted he needed was haphazardly thrown over him. He was tired, but sleep had not been coming easy.
Monster. He'd been possessed by a monster and had done and seen things that he didn't think he would ever be forgiven for. So much blood and death and yet Quentin had been there beside him through it all. Never wavering in his belief that he could save him. He didn't deserve him for all he'd put him through. But above it all was Quentin's death. The grief, pain and guilt still felt overwhelming threatening to take his breath and very life from him. He deserved to still be in hell forever caught in the endless loop of rejection that had led to Quentin's death. Why he had been pulled from it, he couldn't understand.
He took a long draw from the bottle then sat it on the table. He was staring off into space when he heard the front door opening. Quickly he ran a hand through his hair and tried to straighten the blanket, but it was pointless. The dark circles beneath his eyes, his unkempt hair and overall appearance spoke volumes. The door opened and Quentin walked in. "Q, how was your day?" he asked quietly.
Quentin had not wanted to go to work and leave Eliot alone at home, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter. One of them needed to work after all. He had done his best to make sure Eliot had what he'd need while he was home all day but he still worried about the man. He was not the only person in the office with such worries so work had been fairly quiet. He wanted to make Eliot something comforting, so he was making grilled cheese and soup. He stopped off to pick up the good bread and the special fancy cheese he knew Eliot liked. He knew that wouldn't solve everything, but had to try something.
He walked in the door and turned toward Eliot's voice. The sight that greeted him was not significantly different from the view he'd left that morning. Maybe a little bit messier, and probably very drunk if the vodka bottle was any indication. He shrugged. "Work was slow. Quiet too so that was good." He walked over to the couch then leaned over and kissed him gently. HE stood up and held the bags up. "Got some cold stuff in here, let me put that up. I'll be right back." He gave him a smile before heading into the kitchen to drop everything off. Quentin moved around in the kitchen getting a few things started then walked back out a few minutes later with a fresh cup of tea for Eliot.
"Thought you could use more tea." He handed over the cup and pushed the bottle a little further away, but not too far out of reach. He settled on the couch and reached out to rest his hand on Eliot's knee. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He wanted to ask him questions, but he was trying to be there, without pushing. He waited a bit, just letting the silence fill the room. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly. He finally looked over at him. "How are you today, El?"
Eliot's gaze followed Quentin and returned the gentle kiss. "That's good. That it was a quiet day." Of course, many were dealing with the hell that had come to Vallo. He hadn't been on the network to see how others were fairing, he didn't want the reminder or to see others' trauma because it was too close to home. He nodded and watched Quentin go to the kitchen. A long sigh escaped him as he rubbed his hands over his face. He needed to shave among other things. So far Quentin hadn't really asked him anything and kind of been more hands-off. Part of him understood that wanting to give him space, time. But part of him just wanted the other to hold him and talk to him about anything.
"Thanks." He took the mug and held it a few moments before sitting it on the table. The silence was obvious, but in a way he'd come to expect it and maybe had gotten used to it. At the question Eliot looked to Quentin. "I'm okay." He saw the way the other was stared at him and looked down at his own frumpy clothes he wore, then ran a hand through his hair again. "I must look a total mess. I meant to shower today... just didn't get around it to it," he spoke softly. The motivation wasn't there for much. "Sorry. I'll take one tonight."
Quentin couldn't help but watch Eliot the way he did. It's what he did. He watched. He was looking for what he needed to do to help Eliot. Part of him knew that just watching wouldn't help him. He had to do something. He didn't want to do the wrong thing and make things worse.
He noticed that the tea was untouched and reached out to take hold of Eliot's hand. He knew he had to do something. HE just wasn't sure what. HE just shook his head and squeezed his hand. "I mean I haven't seen you like in a very long time, El." That was when he remembered one of the things Eliot said he needed more of from him.
He leaned over for another kiss then sat up and shifted so he could rest his back against the arm of the couch. "C'mere." He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Eliot. He tugged gently until he could get him tucked against his body. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it was close enough. He kissed Eliot's temple and shifted until he was comfortable. "I think we should take a bath tonight. After we eat something."
It had been a long time since Quentin had seen him like this. It made him feel worse in a way. Logically he knew Quentin didn't mean anything by what he'd said, but it didn't change the fact that he was a mess. "Sorry," he said again in almost a whisper. It was difficult to explain and talk about everything. Being numb seemed better and helped keep the dark thoughts and memories at bay for a little while.
Eliot assumed Quentin was getting up when he shifted, but then his arms were around him and was being pulled close. It took a moment of more shifting before he was tucked tightly against Quentin. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. It felt good and he tried to concentrate on the warmth. He hadn't had much of an appetite since he returned. "I think that sounds nice." At least he'd get clean and the warm water might relax him some. "I'm not really hungry, so maybe something small."
"Don't be sorry, El." He kissed his temple again and brought one hand up to comb his fingers through Eliot's hair gently. It hurt him to see Eliot like this. HE knew his man was hurting and it hurt him that he couldn't fix it. He was supposed to be able to fix it for him. He hated that he couldn't.
He sat and just held him for a bit. He knew Eliot needed to eat something. He wanted something small. Did a sandwich count as small enough in his world? "I stopped by the store on the way home and got that good crusty bread and the good cheese that you like. I was thinking grilled cheese, maybe add some prosciutto to it?"
The fingers sifting through his hair felt nice and relaxed him a little. Maybe he shouldn't be sorry. Maybe he should. He should be stronger. He should be the provider, the Dom he was to Quentin, but he just wasn't feeling it. "You didn't kneel to me when you came home from work." The words tumbled right out of his mouth and shocked him at the same time. He'd been thinking nothing of the sort and yet the statement came from him as if his subconscious knew it all along. He definitely wasn't going to think about it or overthink it as it were. There were enough things on his mind.
"That was sweet of you, Q. It sounds good." Though he knew he wouldn't eat an entire sandwich. He glanced to the bottle of vodka for a moment. He wanted some but didn't move. "Maybe some juice with it?"
Just when Quentin was thinking he was helping, at least a little bit, Eliot reminded him of another way he was failing. Fuck. His body tensed because he wanted to kneel. Right at that moment, he wanted to knee. He needed it.
But he thought Eliot might need to be held more. "I know, I forgot. I was too focused on getting the cheeses into the fridge." He bowed his head and whispered. "I'm sorry, Sir. I know I should kneel for this, but I don't want to let you go. Not yet. You can punish me later if you have to, but I'm not letting you go."
HE kissed Eliot's temple again and nodded. "Grilled cheese and juice sounds good. I thought maybe some soup too, but that might be too much." Considering the fact that Eliot had not been eating very much, a sandwich might be all he could manage.
It wasn't as if Eliot had expected him to kneel. He didn't look like his Dom and certainly hadn't been acting like it. Yet another way he was failing Quentin. Would he ever stop fucking up and hurting those he loved and cared for most? "No, it's okay. I don't know why I said that. There will be no punishment" He truly didn't. "You don't need to apologize." He noted the bowed head of course, but his words brought a sting of tears to his eys that he tried to blink away.
He pressed closer. It was what he needed. "I don't want any soup, but you make it if you want some." Eliot closed his eyes again and let the warmth of being held surround him.
-----
Quentin had brought their food to the living room on trays. Eliot had thanked him and ate half of his grilled cheese and drank all the juice. He knew he should eat more, but he didn't want it. He was only eating for Quentin really.
Quentin smiled and shook his head. "I think I do, though. I think you said it because your inner Dom needed to." He kissed Eliot's temple then shifted so he could place a gentle kiss to the man's lips. "And I think my inner sub needed it too."
He might be the one taking care of Eliot just then, but that didn't change anything about their dynamic. Not in his mind, or his heart. This was just part of his responsibility as Eliot's sub, as his lover and as his friend. They were meant to take care of each other.
------------
If he could have figured out a way to make their dinner without letting go of Eliot, he would have. But the cats came up to snuggle with him and keep him company while Quentin made their dinner.
He watched Eliot eating and chatted with him. Well maybe he was just talking to him about random things that came to mind. How his day had gone, everyone's speculations about the gift baskets, and that Abigail had asked about him. He did warn Eliot she might be reaching out soon to check on him.
Once they were done eating he cleared away the dishes, squared up the kitchen then walked back out. He walked over to where Eliot sat and reached for his hands. "C'mon, let's go up and get you in the bath." He pulled the man to his feet and lead him to the bathroom. He started the water and got everything they'd need in easy reach from the tub, and the fluffiest of towels for after the bath.
Maybe Quentin was right. They'd both needed it, but at the moment it wasn't high on his list. It was kind of day to day at the moment. He knew he needed to talk, knew he needed to tell Quentin about things, but it was hard. He had made an appointment with his therapist for Tuesday.
He allowed Quentin to pull him up and they made their way upstairs to the bathroom. The more he thought about it the more a bath sounded heavenly. As the tub filled and Quentin gathered everything, Eliot undressed. Once everything was ready he carefully stepped into the water and slowly sank into the tub. It was perfect. The hot water seeped into his bones and felt so good.
"Are you coming in?" With the remodelling that had been done the tub was bigger and more comfortably fit two people. They'd made sure of that especially with Eliot's long legs.
Quentin smiled at the invitation and nodded. "I was thinking about it. I was also thinking of totally pampering you." He sat on the edge of the tub and reached out to comb his fingers through Eliot's hair. "What do you think? Would you still be comfy if I get in behind you?" While he waited for his answer he stood up and undressed himself.
He was also really enjoying just holding Eliot, and he hoped the man was enjoying it also. He wanted to continue that, and well he kinda had this silly idea of scrubbing his back and washing his hair for him. It was silly. He knew it was silly but he couldn't help that he wanted it.
Once he was undressed and had his answer he climbed into the tub, carefully shifting until they were both comfortable.
"I wouldn't say no to that," Eliot replied with a small smile. "I would. This tub is much bigger than the old one. It was bought with comfort in mind." And he left it at that. "I'd still be comfortable. Promise." Being pampered or just being with Quentin. Either or both. He just needed the man close to him.
He shifted a bit when Quentin got in until they were both comfortable. "Are you comfy? I know these long legs take up a lot of room." He dipped his hands beneath the water. "Are you doing okay, Q?" He wanted to ask, needed to.
"Didn't think so." He climbed in behind the man and wrapped his arms around him. It felt so much better this way. Skin to skin contact made everything better. He tucked his chin against Eliot's shoulder and sighed happily.
"Very comfy." He gave him a gentle squeeze and turned his head to kiss his neck. He nodded in response to the question. Well nodded as much as he could. "I'm okay, El. I'm just worried about you." Maybe he shouldn't have said that part, but it was true.
Over all? Things were okay in his world. The only part that wasn't? Eliot was clearly not in a good place. Quentin understood why. More or less. He slid his hands down Eliot's arms and linked their fingers together. "I love you...and I want to help, however you need me to."
The arms wrapped around him brought comfort and warmth. Eliot did his best to concentrate on that feeling. He squeezed Quentin's hands. "I love you too." I wish I could be stronger for you. He wasn't being what Quentin needed on any level and that weighed heavily on him along with everything he'd been through.
Silence fell over the room for a long moment before Eliot spoke. "Do you know what it's like to experience the moment you regret most, the one that caused so much pain and hurt over and over, and know you deserve it? Because everything has consequences and catches up with you sooner or later." He paused. "Right before I was pulled into hell I got this...dump of memories from home that filled my every thought, they still do. Of the monster. So much blood, pain, confusion and loss and your death." He stopped again. His emotions were welling up and he was trying hard to hang on, to stay even. "You were with me through it all. You saved me, but I didn't save you. Everything I did lead to your death and I don't think I can ever forgive myself." Tears welled up and one slid down his cheek. "No matter what I do if you leave here, you'll die and that's my fault because I wasn't strong or honest." It all weighed so heavily on him.
It always made him feel so warm inside to hear Eliot say he loved him. It was one of the good things to have come out of being dropped into Vallo. It had given them another chance. He waited through the silence and was thinking he should get to washing Eliot's hair before the water could get cold. Sure they could warm it back up but, he wasn't sure they should stay in there that long.
Before he could make a move toward that Eliot started speaking. Quentin rubbed his thumb over the man's knuckles idly as he listened. His heart hurt hearing Eliot say those things. He could hear the pain and emotion in the man's voice and he shifted just enough to tighten his hold on him as if that would make all of that pain go away.
"I know what I saw when I tried to talk you out of your Hell..." But the rest of what happened suddenly made the whole thing make more sense to him. "But it's not your fault, El. None of it is your fault..." At least he didn't blame the man. Not for any of it. He had forgiven him for not wanting to take that chance. It was probably the worst time to have asked him anyway. It was too much to put on Eliot at the moment they'd just been injected with all those memories.
Something Eliot said stuck out: the monster. "What monster? The one in the castle? The one being held there?" He didn't want to make Eliot give him all of the details, he just wanted to know for sure. If he did, he would have to make sure to try to find a way to remember that information IF he ever went back. Maybe he could figure a way to keep it there and stop all this from happening to Eliot. And upside: he would live.
"But it is my fault. If I hadn't rejected you then you wouldn't have volunteered to guard the monster at Blackspire for the rest of your life." He felt Quentin did so to get away from him, from the pain. Right or wrong, it's what he believed. "I wouldn't have shot the monster and in turn become possessed by it. And you..." He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, to settle his emotions. "You wouldn't have had to stay with it, me, trying to save me only to sacrifice yourself when shit went sideways. Fuck! Why does it always go wrong?" He said voice tinged with anger.
"Yes, the monster that possessed me. I told you about being possessed. I didn't have any details then, but now I do. All of it is here." He hit the side of his head. "I can't get away from it. It's all there. Everything that happened straight through your death. You saved me. No matter what I do I can't save you. If you leave here, you'll die. I have no control over it. I can't change it. I...can't do anything right."
He took a shuddering deep breath and squeezed Quentin's hands tightly. "I can't lose you again. I can't handle that." So many thoughts filled his mind that it was almost painful. "It hurts, Q. Knowing what I did. Knowing I can't change it. And I know we're here and now, but we could be gone at any moment. Why the fuck can't we just live a normal life?" He yelled.
Quentin frowned when Eliot again took responsibility for his death. He kissed the man's temple and held him closer. "It's not your fault, Eliot. It was never your fault." He tried to speak in a soothing voice, but he doubted it was getting through to him. "Please, please believe me when I tell you it was not your fault that I decided to stay there."
He didn't have any answers to why things always went sideways for them. Star-crossed lovers? Maybe. The only way they ever seem to be able to have any kind of happiness is in an alternate timeline or world. "Sshh..." He reached up and caught Eliot's hand when he hit himself. He didn't know why he would choose to sacrifice himself, but he knew himself and he could guess. "Don't, my love. Don't blame yourself for any of that. I'm sure I chose my death and the only reason I would do that is because there was no other way for the people I loved to live."
He might not remember what happened between him and the monster, but he had an idea based on Eliot's reaction to the memories. This was so much more than he simply felt guilty for his death. There was more that happened, and he knew it had to be very bad based on what little he knew of the monster from his conversation with Ora. The one thing he did know, was why he chose to take Ora's place in Castle Blackspire with the Nameless. And it had less to do with Eliot than the man might think. "But especially don't blame yourself for my decision to stay in Ora's place. I made that choice for my own reasons, and they had nothing to do with you rejecting me."
He didn't like talking about it, or thinking about it if he was honest. But he had to now, and he had to tell Eliot now. Maybe it would help or maybe it would make it worse. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I knew that we had to bring magic back, but that meant..." He swallowed hard, trying really hard not to cry. "Bringing magic back meant that my father's cancer would come back." He stopped and took several breaths trying to get himself back under control. "And I didn't want to live in a world where my father wasn't there." That was his own guilt that he knew he would carry. Which made him wonder why Hell hadn't come for him. He suspected since it hadn't happened to him, then the guilt wasn't really there yet. "I didn't deserve to live in a world where I was the one who helped kill him."
Eliot was listening. He listened to everything Quentin said down to the last words. And just like that his emotions took over, pulling him down as he began to cry. He couldn't recall the last time he had really done so. He drew his knees up and moved to wrap his arms around them as he laid his head on his knees and let it all out. He cried over the past, the present, things he'd fucked up, things he couldn't change, his failures that were ever-present and for the fact that Quentin felt responsible for his father's death.
In time his sobs began to ebb and he was left taking several deep breaths. "You didn't help kill your dad, Q. You told me he wasn't seeking treatment. Because of that, it would have been a matter of time. He chose to live out the rest of his life on his terms. I know he didn't blame you in any way." Eliot felt that in his heart. "Remission or not, magic or no magic, he chose how he wanted to live his life and that was his choice. You should feel no guilt or responsibility."
Knowing Quentin made his decision to stay at Blackspire for his own reasons didn't really help his guilt, his own responsibility he felt for his death. It was another thing to pile on his shoulders. "Thank you for saying it's not my fault and I shouldn't blame myself." He still did. He most likely always would. He sniffled a bit before finally letting off a little tension he was holding in. "I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow at eight. I may go back to work on Monday. I'm not sure yet."
Quentin shifted to wrap himself more securely around Eliot's body, his forehead pressed against the man's shoulder. He tried not to cry, but hearing the sobs just broke him. He just tightened his hold and cried quietly along with him. After a bit, he started to rock them gently. It was a habit when he cried, and Eliot was in his arms so he got gently rocked too. It was a self-soothing thing, maybe it would help Eliot too.
The water had started to get cool by the time the sobs tapered off. Quentin took a moment and rewarmed the water back up to their comfort level shaking his head slightly at the statement. He knew what Eliot was saying was true, but he also knew that his father's doctors had said the cancer was in remission shortly after magic was cut off. By the time they were ready to try turning it back on it was clear that had been what sent it into remission. He knew what Eliot was saying was true because his father had told him so.
His father had told him he had to turn magic back on, but that didn't take away his feeling that all he was doing was killing the man. And with that thought it hit him. There was absolutely nothing he could say to convince Eliot he was not to blame for what would happen to him when he went back to their world. HE nodded and kissed the back of the man's neck gently. "You're welcome, Sir." He knew saying it hadn't changed anything, but at least he could appreciate hearing it. That was at least a step in the right direction. "You should see what your therapist says, maybe." Either way he would be there to support him through it all.
After another few minutes just holding him, Quentin finally spoke quietly. "You want to soak more? Or let me wash your hair?" And the rest of him. He had every intention of doing just that, then taking the man to bed and maybe giving him a massage if he wanted one. Though he would give Eliot whatever he wanted, no matter what that might be.
The rocking was soothing, being held by Quentin more so. He let it wash over him bringing in some warm positive vibes to amongst all the dark thoughts. "I will see what he thinks. I won't go back until I think I'm ready." At present, he knew he wasn't.
The silence and warm water felt good and Eliot closed his eyes. He was tired, but he had been for the past three days. It was almost lulling as he sat there still trying to cling to the good feelings; Q leaning against him, being held and nice hot water. Then Quentin spoke. In that moment having his hair washed seemed so perfect, so sweet and something he knew he wanted. "I'd like that a lot." He reached for one of Quentin's hands, raised it to his lips then kissed it.
"Q, when we get out, would you mind if I wore my old robe to bed." He knew he didn't have to ask, but Quentin did like wearing it. Tonight Eliot wanted to wrap himself up in that only and sleep in Quentin's arms.
Quentin smiled and nodded. “Okay good. We’ll wash your hair, maybe even the rest of you.” He leaned in again and nuzzled his nose against Eliot’s neck. The request about the robe was possibly the cutest thing he’d heard all night. “I don’t mind at all, El.” He didn’t want to move just yet so he sat there a few more minutes before finally squeezing his hands and shifting back.
He hummed softly as he set about washing Eliot’s hair, guiding him to lean back so he could wet his hair. He couldn’t explain why it was soothing to him. He just hoped it was at least half as soothing to Eliot to be taken care of in this way. He also hoped they could do this another time when it was just for the pure joy of bathing together. Once he had Eliot’s hair washed, he took the time to wash the rest of him, then rinsed him. “Okay, now let me up..”
He waited for Eliot to give him room then he stood up and climbed out of the tub. He leaned over and stole a quick kiss before grabbing one of the towels and drying himself just enough so he wasn’t dripping everywhere then he grabbed the dry one for Eliot. “Here you go. C’mon out so I can go get the robe for you.”
Quentin humming while he washed his hair brought a small smile to Eliot's lips. The act itself was soothing, relaxing even, in a way he hadn't anticipated. He liked it. He allowed the other to wash and rinse him off. It was all so intimate, so caring and made the love inside him bubble up. This was what you did for those you love. It also made him realize something that he might talk to Quentin about at a later time.
He moved forward to give him room to stand and step out of the tub. He followed suit and took the towel drying himself off and his hair. Quentin came back with the robe and he pulled it on, tying it at the waist. He looked into the other's eyes then leaned down to kiss him tenderly. "Thank you for everything, for taking care of me." It wasn't always easy for him to accept help even when it was needed. "I love you and..." He paused as emotions welled up in him once more. "I'm a lucky man."
Eliot took a soft deep breath. "Let's go to bed." He felt like he could sleep for days, but had his appointment in the morning.
Bathing together was something they needed to do more often. Especially if Eliot was willing to let him bathe him like he had this time. It was so very soothing and satisfying to take care of Eliot completely. Not because the man couldn't do for himself, but because Quentin loved him and wanted to take care of him.
He helped Eliot into the robe and smiled up at him. He leaned into the kiss and shifted to wrap his arms around him. "I love you, and I will always take care of you." And he meant it, with every bit of love he had in his soul for the man.
Quentin nodded and leaned up for another quick kiss then stepped back from him. HE reached for a handout and laced their fingers together. "Bed sounds perfect. I'm going to hold you all night long."
Eliot squeezed his hand then they walked into the master suite. He turned down the covers then waited for Quentin to get in before he joined him. He snuggled up close, laying his head on his chest. The moment he felt the others wrap around him he exhaled and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, but feeling better than he had in days.
"Sometimes I wish we could back to Fillory...it was more simple then." He pressed a kiss to Quentin's chest. "Goodnight, beautiful."
Quentin walked with him to their bedroom. Their bedroom. As opposed to his bedroom where they had been sleeping. He really liked that they had their own space that was just theirs. He should look into moving his things up into the closet.
Once they got to the bedroom, he took a moment to kneel for Eliot. He hadn't forgotten and he kept his head down as he spoke softly. "I'm sorry I forgot to kneel when I got home, Sir." He waited for the man to acknowledge the apology before he got up and climbed into their bed.
He pulled the covers up more snugly around then and wrapped his arms around Eliot. He thought about the statement. "Maybe, but so long as I'm with you it's perfect." He kissed his temple then leaned his head against him. "Goodnight, my love."