Quentin only relaxed a little when Eliot dropped his gaze and studied his… details. He knew avoidance when he was looking at it. Hell, he could sense pain and discomfort, and it was rolling off of Eliot in waves. It was a small surrender, an act of submission, and something Quentin had been more than familiar with in his younger years. It was strange to see on Eliot, who had always been the dominant force in any room he had been in, but… not a completely unexpected on in Quentin’s newer experiences. There weren’t many these days who could hold his cold gaze.
“I have all sorts of ideas on who you might be” Quentin replied taking another drag on his cigarette and considering how much he wanted to give away. In the end, he decided a little truth wasn’t completely unearned. After all, he wasn’t going to be giving away any life or death secrets, just… details. He smirked “You’re not the same as the Eliot I knew… but you don’t seem entirely different from him. My Eliot was a force of nature, but the only people he ever let in were his Bambi, and for some reason… me” he sighed out smoke as he spoke “You seem more… settled? yes… that seems like the right word. More settled in your skin. Tell me, do you still drink until you blackout in the arms of whoever will take you to bed and tell you what to do?” he asked, just a little cruelty seeping into his voice.
Aside from that one time, Quentin hadn’t really ever been with Eliot. Hadn’t been one of the boys he dragged off after a party, or into whose laps he would crawl. No… Quentin had always been apart from everyone else. It set him on edge then, and a flicker of something like jealousy still ate at Quentin now. Jealousy at the idea that this Eliot might have seen more in his Quentin… might have understood that he was more than just the sad little nerd in the shadows waiting for Eliot to toss him a crumb.
“Am I anything like you would have expected?” he opened his arms and did a turn as if inviting Eliot’s study. “I would love to hear how our universes divided some time. Jane changed something every time she reset her little pet project. I wonder what she did differently for you”
His eyes narrowed at Eliot’s little diversion and he smirked. Oh… there was a weakness waiting to be exploited. Jokes to cover pain. He reserved comment for the moment as Eliot carried on. Talking about Margo was interesting. He wasn’t sure he had ever really heard Eliot call her anything other than Bambi except when she had been introduced to him. Maybe it was a formality he wanted to keep hold of. To use as a shield between them.
“Margo always was… strong… Who knows how things would have gone if she would have made it to Fillory. Hell, maybe you never would have had a chance to meet little old me” he teased. “And if your Quentin was anything like me… Alice might have had something to say about him openly being anyone’s queen”
He tipped his head once more as Eliot told the cliff’s notes version of his past. Well, that certainly was very different from killing his boyfriend, getting to wasted to function, and then killing Margo and himself in the Library. “Possession… by what? A Lamprey?” he asked genuinely curious. There were few things that could possess a magician after all. Then he shook his head and took a deep breath tasting an increase in pain and discomfort. “Drink Eliot… Your new ax wounds seem to be making you… uncomfortable” he practically purred showing off one of his favorite new skills. He would be able to smell this Eliot too… a more odd trick, and not something he would share just yet… but nice to have in his back pocket. It did make being double-crossed in person a little more tricky.
The Beast smiled slowly as he watched Eliot squirm a little. He really was willing to so easily hand over Fillory. How… quaint. Love… it was a very interesting thing. He had loved Alice, hadn’t he? But, he knew he would have picked saving Fillory over saving her all day every day. How strange. Another weakness of Eliot’s to add to the ever-growing list.
His eyes flashed blue for just a moment at the change in Eliot’s eyes when he called Quentin smart. HE was please with the praise in spite of himself. Even if it was a compliment wrapped in condescension. “It will be interesting to find out… if your idea of fun works with mine. Though, I have missed New York in spring.”
Eliot actually laughed at the assessment--it hadn’t been him for a long while, but if this was what Quentin wanted to hear then fine, “I’ve actually found joy in being on top, but points for being equal parts scathing and succinct. I hope your Eliot treated you with the respect you deserve.” And the thing was, he did mean it. He hoped that this Quentin wasn’t evil/bitter/mean because of something another him did; Eliot knew he’d never escape the guilt for that even if it was something he literally had no control over. Maybe that came because losing his Quentin was still too fresh.
“I can honestly say you’re nothing like I would have anticipated.” He did sort of think that...maybe, if there were alternate universes, that they’d all have evil dopplegangers in at least one of them because--well that’s how Trek always worked. But that wasn’t ever anything he paid more than a thought or two on the grounds that 1.) that was super depressing to think about and 2.) most importantly, there was always much weirder, much more pressing shit going on. “It sounds like we’ll have a little bit of time together--” Eliot knew already he wasn’t letting Quentin out of his sight “--I’m happy to compare notes.”
There was almost a wince at the mention of Alice, not because there was any sort of jealousy left over or anything, but because he knew that she was going through it too and he also knew he’d have to tell her about this Quentin sooner or later. Probably sooner. Pile that on the conversations he didn’t want to be having, but when had the universe ever given him any mercy in that regard? He couldn’t touch the comment about Quentin being someone’s queen so he opted for neutral: “Who knows, you might even get to meet her. Alice. And--well, you’ll definitely be meeting Margo.”
Eliot’s brow furrowed, unsure how much he should say to the Quentin before him. He’d long given up the idea of pursuing whatever had been crawling around in his skin--it seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be dead so why bother? He was unnerved, but he didn’t see anything advantageous in lying. “I never really did find out. My friends called it the monster, it was...a powerful thing. God killing, not just gods though. Wrong place, wrong time on my part.” He paused and Quentin spoke, which just made Eliot raise an eyebrow--was his pain that obvious? Eliot tried for a laugh but it sounded off (and that was definitely obvious.) “Coming back to your body after not having it is difficult, it’s even worse when that body’s not in good condition. Luckily the drugs they have me on are good.” This was for the best, he really didn’t want to be here anymore.
He wished there was another way, immediately remembering the promise he made that deep down he always knew was futile; no more adventures. It’s not like he ever went looking for it, it just fell into his lap.
If it would get Quentin back, it would be worth it, whatever price he ended up having to pay.
“You knew a version of me, you know I can have fun. The city is my element, and...well, it’s probably in my best interests to do whatever you want, right?” It probably wasn’t in Eliot’s best interests to tell him that upfront but whatever, a distraction might be nice. “C’mon. I made a portal to our apartment, unless there’s anything here you needed.”
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