The first thing Terrance had done was strip him of his clothes and glasses, leaving him nude for only a moment, before guiding him to a small bedroom. ...It was painfully familiar, decorated nearly exactly as he'd decorated his bedroom in the small flat Terrance had once kept him in. Some of the posters were wrong- but for the most part it was spot on.
On the bed sat a pair of glasses- identical to the ones he'd worn in his youth, but with his new prescription. He slipped them on, the thick black frames feeling far too heavy compared to what he wore now. In the closet he found clothes- Not like the ones he wore now, but hoodies and t-shirts that echoed the ones he'd lived in long ago.
"I've outgrown all this," he said as he dressed. "All that loud music, the oversized clothes... this isn't who I am any more, Terrance. I haven't been this in a long time."
Terrance said nothing, he simply sat on the bed, admiring Q as he dressed.
--- --- ---
The second day there was touching. A kiss on the cheek, fingertips roaming over his arm... It was as if Terrance was flirting with him. Seducing him, even.
Q didn't react at all, still and silent, eyes constantly drifting to the window in search of Bond.
"Tell me why you liked him," Terrance said as he placed Q's dinner in front of him- another meal the Quartermaster would refuse to eat.
"I don't like him. I love him," Q replied quietly.
"You used to love me," Terrance said softly.
"I didn't know what love was then."
The third night was the first night that Terrance joined him, laying behind the younger man and holding him tightly. He kissed Q's neck and squeezed him roughly, but that was all.
Q did his best to ignore it- but he couldn't help but notice something...
"You're impotent," Q said, his words breaking the silence that seemed to constantly fill the space between them.
Terrance had been cooking, something he seemed to do no matter how many times Q refused to eat, and he dropped the pan he'd been holding. The metal clanged and clattered loudly, and he turned sharply to look at the younger man.
"What did you just say?" he asked, his calm tone unsettling and threatening. Though Q didn't so much as flinch.
"You're impotent," he said again. "You're unable to maintain an-"
Q didn't get to finish his sentence, but he didn't care. The hard slap was something real at last. The past few days had been nothing but pantomime- But this was real. This he could make sense of.
The beating was severe, and the rest of the day was spent locked in his room, nursing his wounds.
That night Terrance joined him again, apologizing for his outburst with a packet of crisps and a gentle embrace. ...Q accepted both.
"He's not coming for you," Terrance said.
"He is," Q argued quietly.
"He's dead, dear boy. I thought you'd have realized that by now."
Silence settled between them, and Q swallowed hard. He held his paper cup a little tighter, nearly crushing it as he sipped his tea. ...Bond wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. Bond didn't die unless he felt like letting death come.
Cup empty, Q finally spoke.
"What do you even want from me?"
The silence was far more unsettling than anything Terrance could have said.
"You're dying," Q said at breakfast on the fourth day- Or maybe it was the fifth. He wasn't certain any more.
"Lung cancer," Terrance nodded.
"That's why I'm here then," the younger man said, his voice cracking a bit as he allowed himself to feel afraid at last.
"I had to live without you. I wont die without you. I failed in this life, but we'll get it right in the next."