Chapter Text
Quentin woke slowly, but when he tried to move, he found one of his hands held in place. Someone was holding his hand. He opened his eyes and found himself in a dark room.
The hand holding his was soft, and as he stirred he felt the fingers intertwine with his. “Q!” Julia’s familiar voice said, and he could hear from her voice that she’d been crying.
“I’m okay,” he said groggily. “Just ... gimme a minute to wake up.” He took his hand from hers and rubbed both his eyes, then scrubbed his hand through his hair. “And turn on a light in here!” He sat up and realized he was fully clothed. “What happened?” He thought hard. The last thing he remembered was ... oh hell! “Are Penny and Alice okay?” He looked around again. “Jesus! Turn on the fucking light!”
“Q?” Julia’s voice trembled now. “The ... the lights are on.”
Quentin turned his head toward her voice and asked slowly, “Then why can’t I see anything?”
“I ... I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a temporary side-effect? You were unconscious. You’ve been out for hours.” Her voice seemed to turn in another direction as she called out, “You guys! He’s awake!”
Quentin heard running feet. Then Alice’s voice, “Q! I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“Well, except that I’m apparently blind,” he griped.
“Um ... what?” Alice sounded shocked and upset.
Julia jumped in. “It’s probably just a temporary side-effect. You said there were bright lights after he cast his spell?”
“Yeah,” a man said, and Quentin recognized Penny’s voice. “I mean, he was in front of Alice and me when I got them out, but even from behind the two of them I could see how bright the light was.”
“It was like ... fireworks,” Alice said. “I mean, I only saw part of it over Q’s shoulder, but it was the brightest light I’d ever seen.”
“I ... sort of remember that,” Quentin mused. “I mean, I told Penny he would need to get us out of there quick...”
“Telepathically,” Penny clarified, interrupting him. “But yeah, he told me the plan.”
“Then I cast the spell and Penny got us out, and there was this, um, like incredible explosion of light from where I’d mended the mirror. I knew you couldn’t cast magic there, but I hadn’t expected that!”
“And then you collapsed,” Alice said, and he could hear in her voice that she was trying to stay strong in that way she always did. That was Alice, always trying to keep her emotions under control. He pictured her resolute face. “Penny and I got you out of there, and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
Julia interjected, “We were going to give you another couple hours before we took you to the hospital, or to Fogg or something.”
“What about my eyes?” Quentin asked. “Are you going to take me to the hospital about that?”
No one answered immediately, then Julia asked hesitantly, “Do you want us to take you to the hospital for it?”
“Hell no!” Quentin replied. “Let’s just ... like you said ... let’s wait and see if it’s temporary. Just ... I’m still pretty tired, so let me sleep it off. Julia, could you maybe get me some pyjamas so I don’t have to sleep in these jeans?”
Julia laughed, sounding relieved and almost happy. “I think I can manage that.”
Quentin had just started to drift off to sleep when he bolted upright in the bed so violently that the blankets slipped off and he heard them crumple softly to the floor. “Eliot!” he exclaimed, desperate. “Is Eliot ... I mean ... did he...”
He heard feet running again, then the soft warmth of Julia’s hand taking his once more. “Eliot is fine. Well, I mean, not fine. He’s in the hospital, recovering. Because, his stomach, you know...”
“Take me there,” Quentin demanded. “I don’t care if I’m fucking blind. I have to know he’s okay.”
“He’s okay,” Julia reassured him again, squeezing his hand.
“And he’s ... he’s really Eliot? It all worked? We got him back?”
Julia took his hand between both of hers again, and he knew she was trying to be comforting, but he was too worked up for that. “He’s really Eliot. Apparently bitching up a storm at the hospital. Just wait ‘til he hears you’re awake!”
“Have Penny take me there,” Quentin begged. “I have to see him. I mean ... not see him, obviously. I just ... I have to know it’s him.”
“It is,” Julia repeated. “You don’t have to worry.”
A second later, Quentin felt something land on the bed beside him with a groan. “I hope you’re happy, dumb ass,” Margo’s voice said from somewhere nearby.
Several people spoke at once.
Julia’s voice cried, “Penny!” in obvious disapproval.
Penny exclaimed, “He insisted!”
And Eliot’s voice, right beside him in the bed, murmured, “Q!” And even though it was the quietest of the voices, it was the one Quentin heard reverberate in his head.
He turned his head toward it and asked softly, “Eliot?”
“The fucking moron insisted on coming. Said, and I quote, ‘I can heal from an axe to the stomach better with Q than in a fucking hospital.’” But she didn’t sound as angry as her words would indicate. In fact, she only sounded fond and worried.
Quentin felt a hand take his, and he knew it was Eliot. He’d held that hand a thousand times in Fillory, and he would know that touch anywhere. They clutched each other’s hands as if one of them might fall off a cliff if they didn’t hold tightly enough.
“I wish I could see you,” Quentin whispered.
“Maybe it’s best that you can’t,” Eliot replied, his voice grown dark and his grip on Quentin’s hand loosening. “I know that my face hasn’t exactly been your favorite thing to look at for the past several months.”
Quentin swallowed convulsively, remembering, but he couldn’t find anything to say to that. Then, eventually, he tightened his grip on Eliot’s hand and said, “You sound like you, and you feel like you. I know it’s you now, and that’s all I needed.”
Another long silence, Then Eliot proclaimed loftily, “Thank fuck there’s a king-size bed in this place, because I was, at one time, the high king of Fillory.”
“Until I usurped your throne,” Margo joked. “But I am not getting into that bed with the two of you. Been there, done that.” And Quentin could almost hear the smirk in her voice. He blushed.
“Now, Bambi, why do you always feel the need to throw that in the poor boy’s face every chance you get?” But he sounded amused.
“I threw more than that in his face. And so did you.” She was practically laughing now.
“Okay!” Quentin yelled. “Enough with the joking about the night which shall never be spoken of again!”
“I think I should probably leave.” Alice said, sounding as hurt as she’d been after the actual event. He heard quick footsteps walking away.
“Some bitches just don’t have a sense of humor,” Margo remarked dryly.
Quentin sighed. “Margo, you know that was cruel. I didn’t even know she was in the room.”
“Me? Cruel? Who would have thought? And Miss Priss needs to calm her tits. Shit went down, she needs to deal with it. It’s been ages ago. If you can’t joke about it now, then where’s the fucking fun in that?”
Quentin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Margo,” he ground out. “Sometimes it isn’t about fun. Sometimes it’s about not hurting other people’s feelings.”
“I hate to break up this absolute love fest of a conversation,” Eliot spoke up weakly, “but we’ve got one man here recovering from a major stomach wound and another trying to fight off some kind of hysterical blindness. Maybe we can all make friends after some sleepy time?”
Quentin turned toward Eliot’s voice again. “You want to sleep in the bed with me?”
Eliot sounded uncertain. “If that’s ... okay? I mean, it is a big bed...”
Quentin reached out, sort of flailing his hand, and Eliot trapped it in his again. “It wouldn’t even have to be a big bed,” he replied quietly. “Just knowing you’re here makes everything okay.”
“I have to sleep on my back,” Eliot remarked hesitantly, “so I kind of take up a lot of room.”
“Not a problem,” Quentin assured him, then curled up on his side, as close to Eliot as he could get without hurting him, still clutching his hand. He felt someone put the blankets back on top of them, and then he fell asleep.
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