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[ She heads to Quentin's room with two cups of tea. One is a relaxing blend that's more than half honey, why lie. The other is tart raspberry, sweet cinnamon, and rum. Eliot will be there, because he's nowhere else in the house right now and it honestly isn't hard to figure out where someone goes when they're all but grieving. When Charlie died, Alice stared at his things for hours and hated that it was so sudden.

At least Quentin will be back. The question is, when will that be? She's picked out and claimed a new house and started getting it clean and up to snuff wards-wise, but she still lives here too, and even if she didn't, she doesn't want to leave Eliot by himself all the time. ]

Knock knock. [ It's soft and cautious as she pushes the door open with her hip. ] I brought you something you'll like. It's warm, and it's alcoholic.

[ Eliot's glad that Alice hasn't really left entirely yet. It's been a revolving door of people, sure, all of Quentin's friends that he's made over the last few months, and Eliot's glad for it. He knows himself well enough that if he's left to his own devices, he's going to get messy real fast. But he's especially glad to have Alice around.

She's calm and quiet, and her intuition is always right. She knows when to let him be by himself and when it's time to sit beside him, or, like now, when it's time to enjoy something soothing like a hot cup of tea. And it's not that Margo couldn't do the same, it's just that out of everyone here, Alice and Eliot share a very particular brand of love for Quentin. So he knows Alice understands without having to actually say anything at all. ]

Thanks.

[ He smiles. It's tired and barely half hearted, despite his genuine appreciation. Of course he's not exactly sleeping well. He tries, sometimes, to go off to the bedroom that was his before he just started sharing Quentin's. If he drinks enough or does the right dose of something he's found in the house, he's at least out for a few hours now and again. Mostly, he just sits and smokes. He's gone through countless packages already.

When he takes the tea, he lets it warm his hands (he thinks they're colder than usual but maybe he's just miserable right now). ]

I wish I knew what he was seeing in there.

[ Because Eliot's only seen the end, and he still doesn't know how that might effect Quentin here. But he also doesn't know what Quentin, or any of them, were dealing with in the real world while the monster was running free.

Eliot slumps further into his chair and sighs, sipping the tea. It's the perfect amount of rum and spice. ]

[ Emotion lances through her chest at the sight if Quentin like this. Every time, that same ache. Sometimes it's easier to deal with by herself, but other times-- times like now, she's glad to have company.

She stands by Eliot's chair, sipping at her tea. She doesn't know what he's seeing either, except the part where she destroys the keys and Julia creates new ones, where Dean Fogg and the Library siphon magic off so they can be in control of it. ]

Me too.

[ She sighs. She doesn't have to say anything about the castle and the monster. Eliot knows, probably better than she does. ]

He'll make it through, though. He's so much stronger than he gives himself credit for.

[ His brain tries to poison him sometimes. Is it the same now? Did Dean Fogg's potion make him an identity where he doesn't feel the bitter taste of self-hatred? ]

I know he is.

[ But Eliot’s not sure if he can tell Alice about where that gets Quentin in the end.

He decides it’s better not to, not when Quentin is like this and not before Quentin himself knows. Eliot takes a long drink of tea to cover the wavering emotion in his voice. It burns his tongue and his throat but he doesn’t care. ]

Do you think we fucked up? You and me. [ He pauses for a second, staring at the cocoon around Quentin. ] I guess I know we did, I just want to know if you think so, too. You with the keys and me thinking I could kill the monster. Like we both thought we could save everyone on our own but instead we just made it worse.

Yes.

[ She doesn't hesitate for even a second. Yes. She fucked up. She fucked up in so many ways that sometimes she can't untie the massive knot of all the threads she twisted together during said fuckup, the Library, magic itself, her delicate friendships, Brakebills. Even further back, Charlie's soul, or what was left of it. If she had just stopped to think and talk things out and get opinions and feedback and fucking help, so much tragedy could've been avoided.

They fucked up this time. Both of them, badly. Alice takes a sip of tea, hoping the honey will bring some sweetness into her life for all of a few seconds, but it tastes bitter now. ]

I think... I don't know if Dean Fogg would've used that potion if I hadn't asked him for some. I was gonna take it. I was gonna destroy the keys and drink that potion and forget everything. [ She scoffs. ] Like a coward.

[ That, she told Quentin about, and he loved her so much that he didn't so much as ask her not to do it. He let her make her choice. And in the end, it fucked him and all the others over. ]

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." [ She looks up, watches Eliot for a second or two before she looks at the cocoon encasing Quentin. ] I just want him to be okay.

Edited (betrayed myself with my own keyboard shortcuts) 2019-10-28 10:55 (UTC)

You're not a coward, Alice. We've all run away from shit.

[ Holding his tea cup with one hand, Eliot reaches the other out blindly to take Alice's. He's aware she's not quite as physical as he is, but he needs the touch right now, something connecting him to another person so he's reminded he's not alone. ]

You're one of the bravest people I know.

[ She sees the movement out of the corner of her eye, and there's no hesitation as she takes his hand. She can't deny him that, and in any case, she feels anchored by the contact. Steady. It quiets down the urge to run and hide.

It takes a lot of effort not to scoff, but she manages, for his sake. Maybe for hers too. They're here at Quentin's bedside because they hurt to see him here but not here, because this awkward, sad man somehow made his way into their hearts and helped them heal enough to let them open up and love him. How strange that the very thing she feared the most is such s comfort now, sitting here with Eliot, being sincere. Not so sincere that she blurts out the painful tangle of emotions in her heart, but enough to be open. To stop running, for once. ]

This is why Fillory chose you to be high king when we went there for the first time. You just-- care.

[ She wants to be friends with him. It's a realization so sharp and sudden that it almost makes her gasp. She wants them to be close, to trust each other. She wants them not to feel alone in this or in anything at all. ]

[ One corner of Eliot's mouth turns up. It's the slightest ghost of a smile, and he wonders if that's true. He assumes that, as far as Alice is concerned, it is. He's just not sure how he ever managed to give off that impression, especially to her of all people. It still feels nice to hear. ]

Did you know I wanted to build a statue for you? In Fillory.

[ The little smile sticks around this time, and Eliot lets out something like a laugh. At this point, he's just willing to talk about anything to try and distract him from whatever Quentin might be going through. ]

No one seemed as on board with the idea as I was.

I didn't know that.

[ And so it feels like an extra point against her, that one of the people she betrayed thought to put up a memorial in her honor because she sacrificed herself to kill the Beast. Damn. Luckily, the uncertain smile she gives is equal parts guilt and embarrassment over the thought that she was almost in the spotlight like that. ]

That's... heartwarming. [ That he cared, that he thought she should be remembered. ] I won't tell anyone you told on them.

[ A playful smile. It's a silly joke but it's all she can muster. She doesn't blame the rest of them for not supporting the idea. She didn't do it to be a hero. She'd lost her brother, lost Quentin, lost Brakebills, in a way - what was the point, when gods could shit in the wellspring of all magic and ruin it for everyone? She had brought the Beast upon them all. It seemed fitting to die to end him. Besides, did any of them even know her back then beyond her being "Quentin's nerdy girlfriend"? Let alone like her. And then she went and betrayed them all anyway, proving them right.

She holds onto that smile, though, for both their sakes. ]

[ Now that Eliot's said it out loud, he wonders what his own motivations had been. Had he been acting selflessly, or had he himself been feeling guilty and thought that the monument would someone absolve him of it?

Eliot squeezes Alice's hand and tips over, just enough that he's leaning against her. ]

Maybe we should take a break from this. [ From their constant vigilance. From Eliot's constant vigilance. ] Go, I don't know. Eat. A real meal.

[ Retrospective introspection is a dark and dangerous road, and one she understands. The reasons why a choice was made seem clear at the time, but actual clarity reveals the muddied waters they were made in. Ironically, the only things Alice is clear about her intentions on is all she did when she was a niffin. No emotions, no problems—except much of what she did was awful.

And—oh, yep, this is a lot more physical contact than she's used to from just about anyone. But at the same time, it feels nice. She spends so much of her time alone, isolated, and now she's here with the only other person who understands the sharp, sweet ache that is loving Quentin Coldwater. She needed this. She needs it, more than she cares to admit. Connections, closeness. Friendship. Quentin would probably want this for them too. ]

Probably. [ Strange how these dream bodies still have physical needs. ] When's the last time you actually ate something?

[ She's already thinking abour what they should have. Delivery, probably. Cooking is a lot right now. ]

[ Unfortunately for all of these isolated introverts that Eliot collects, he craves physical contact. On a good day, as much as a simple hand brushing against someone's arm or a bump of shoulders is enough. On a day like this, Eliot would probably ask Alice if he could lie down with his head in her lap for a while if he thought she'd be okay with that.

But this is all right, too. ]

I … Snacked.

[ He's not sure when. He's aware of grabbing things here and there when he's been down in the kitchen to make coffee or tea, or on his way to sit outside and smoke and try to compose himself before someone sees him crack. But actual eating? ]

I could really go for some noodles that are drenched in MSG. Chinese food?

[ The only reason she knows Eliot will be fine is she knows Margo is protective of who and what she considers hers. Still, Alice is unimpressed by that admission.

She is, however, down for his suggestion. ]

That actually sounds really good. My treat?

[ It still feels a little like she owes him, but her offer now is... solidarity. They're in this together. Keeping vigil, hoping for the best, worrying about someone they love so much. She may not be much for physical contact, but she can do comfort in the form of food. ]

[ Alice's treat. As if she hasn't already been kind enough. Not that ordering Chines food is the sort of thing most people consider an act of kindness, but to Eliot, especially right now, it is.

But he decides to let her have this one. They're both too stubborn and this isn't the time to make any clash in their personalities come up. ]

The next one's on me, then. Let's go downstairs for a bit.

[ He downs the rest of his tea and sets his cup on the nightstand. He uses Alice as a bit of support when he stands. Thanks, Alice. ]

Let's get ginger beef, too.

[ So she's been upgraded to physical support. Okay. She'll take that as a positive.

Standing, Alice grabs her Fluid, letting Eliot lead so he can set their pace. ]

God yes. Ginger beef, noodles, bubble tea...

[ She trails off, placing the order. Being out of the room helps her breathe easier, the tightness in her chest loosening. She feels guilty for that too, but it's easily shoved away as she follows Eliot downstairs. ]

Bubble tea. I want extra pearls.

[ Now that he's talking about food, his body is screaming for it. He's not even sure if he'll be able to stomach anything, he's so tired, but god if he doesn't want to shove his face full anyway.

Downstairs, Eliot detours to the kitchen, to top off his tea - this time he doesn't even add alcohol. ]

Are we friends now?

[ He thinks they're friends now. ]

[ Alice adds that to their order without missing a beat, and even though it takes next to no time to do, it's not until Eliot asks that that she stops to just— breathe. ]

I hope so.

[ She means that so much it almost surprises her. Even before waking up here, she thought of them all as her friends, or at least referred to them as such. But now it feels real, with some of them. With Eliot, with Kady. ]

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