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Julia gave Quentin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking back to the group still drinking in the kitchen.
The self-hating part of Quentin was glad to be left alone with his drink to wallow in his sorrow.
But another part of him was secretly disappointed that Julia hadn’t stayed. Hadn’t forced him to talk.
Quentin was no stranger to feeling hopeless, desperate, like he was drowning. But this was a new flavor of that dreadful feeling. He didn’t just feel like his brain was trying to convince him life wasn’t worth living. He wasn’t in mortal danger again - at least not in this exact moment.
But Eliot...
Eliot wasn’t gone, not yet, so Quentin couldn’t mourn him. But the hope he had harbored for Eliot’s safe return had been lured out of him with false promises and then shot down and left for dead.
The Monster wasn’t building a new body, he was building someone else’s, whether he himself knew it or not. Quentin’s only hope of saving Eliot was gone, just like that. Back to square one.
Quentin was afraid that if he let himself fully feel the desperation this new revelation had planted in him, he might start screaming and never stop.
He thought back to that moment in the park, when Eliot broke free for a fleeting moment. Peaches and plums, motherfucker... It had given Quentin new fuel. Suddenly he had a reason to fight. But now? What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
“Refill?” A voice broke his spiral.
He looked up to see Kady standing in front of him, holding a bottle of whiskey towards him.
Quentin cleared his throat. “Yeah, thanks.”
Kady filled his glass. Quentin took a big swig, more whiskey at once than recommended for said beverage, and looked back down at his feet.
Kady’s boots remained unmoved in front of his dirty sneakers. When he realized Kady wasn’t leaving, he looked back up at her with questioning eyes.
“You look like shit.” She said.
Quentin just stared at her. “Thanks?”
“Are you like... Gonna be okay?” Kady asked and tapped her boot on the floor.
“I’m not that drunk.” Quentin replied.
Kady rolled her eyes. “Not what I meant, Rapunzel.”
Quentin scoffed. “My hair’s short now.”
Kady shrugged. “Whatever, you’ll always be Rapunzel to me.”
Quentin let it go.
“But seriously, are you gonna be okay? I know you’re... Depressed, or whatever.” She said.
“It’s not exactly new.” Quentin said furrowing his brow, not understanding why Kady had brought his illness up out of nowhere.
“I know, dumbass, but I also know shit’s rough right now, so... I don’t know.” She explained.
“When isn’t it?” Quentin remarked in reply.
Kady sighed. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”
“What?” Quentin asked.
“Look, I don’t do the whole... Talking about our feelings crap. I just don’t. So don’t expect me to braid your hair or some shit.” Kady said.
“Again, my hair’s not long anym-“
“Whatever, Coldwater! All I’m saying is... I get it, okay?” Kady interrupted.
Quentin was taken aback. “Get what?”
Kady scoffed. “Please. You don’t think I know what a person who’s lost someone they love looks like? I own fucking mirrors.” She remarked.
Quentin’s breath got caught in his throat. This conversation, which was maybe the third one he had ever had with Kady, was going in a direction he had least expected it to go.
“W-what?” He croaked.
“I mean... You’ve lost the person you love and have to see someone else walk around looking like him. Sounds eerily fucking familiar to me. I can recognize that shit.” Kady said.
“I’m- I don’t-“
“Come on. We all like Eliot. Margo loves Eliot. But you... You love him. Right?” Kady pushed.
Quentin stared at her, mouth open, mind blank. Then, finally, he closed his mouth and sighed. He was tired. So tired.
“Yeah. Yeah, I- I love him.” Quentin said.
Before Kady could react, Quentin let out a laugh, quite loudly, startling the people in the kitchen who turned to look at them.
Kady looked surprised, but waved the others off.
Quentin kept chuckling, more quietly now. “You know, I’ve never said that out loud before. Well, in another life... But really, I haven’t said it out loud. I mean I know it, I’ve thought it, but I never...”
Kady just nodded. “Yeah. So, I repeat: you gonna be okay?” She asked.
Quentin thought for a moment. “As long as I get him back.”
Kady looked down. “Quentin... I lost the guy I... I lost Penny. He was my person and I lost him. And it fucking hurts. We’re all gonna do our best to help Eliot, that goes without saying, but... There’s always the possibility-“
“I can’t think about that.” Quentin interrupted her. “I can’t... I can’t think about it.”
Kady nodded. “Okay. Okay, all I’m saying is... I get it. I almost lost my shit trying to save Penny. And I failed. And then I did lose my shit. You’re a melancholic motherfucker as it is and now... I just... I don’t know. Felt like I needed to check in. ‘Cause... I get it.” She explained.
Suddenly Quentin felt his eyes get hot. He nodded a few times, willing the tears to stay within his eyes.
“Thanks, Kady. I’m... Thanks.” He said. “I think... I needed to hear that, actually. Needed to... Acknowledge it, so... Thanks.”
“Sure.” Kady replied. “Now I’m gonna get hammered and pretend this never happened.”
Quentin laughed a watery laugh. “You’re... Nice.” He teased.
Kady pointed her finger at his face. “You say shit like that again... I’ll kick your ass, Rapunzel.”
Quentin made a cross over his heart as a promise of his silence, but the smile remained on his face.
Kady turned to leave but Quentin’s voice stopped her after a step.
“Hey, Kady... I don’t know if I ever said this, probably not and that’s shitty of me but... I’m sorry. About Penny.” He said, his gaze shifting towards Penny 23 in the kitchen. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to- well, actually... Fuck me, I guess I can now. So yeah... I’m sorry.” He said in a quiet voice.
Kady swallowed slowly, the tough look on her face wavering for a short moment before she caught herself. She gave a quick nod and a grateful half-smile before walking away.
Quentin finished off his whiskey and let the warm, fuzzy feeling flow through him, willing it to replace the hollow, numb feeling he’d gotten used to in the past few weeks.