Forgive, Forget and Move On

It was Monday and Q had been back in HQ for a few hours now after his forced sick-leave. Everyone had greeted him upon his entry early in the morning as if he had been gone for weeks. They had all been out of their minds with worry, they had said as explanation. They had also told him about the frantic search and panicky atmosphere that had reigned when he hadn't appeared for his shift on Thursday up until the time he had called M on the next day to assure him that everything had been all right with him and no, he hadn't been kidnapped or harmed in any way. (Other than by a nasty flu of course.)

Q felt overwhelmed with all the attention he had been bombarded with all day. He was grateful for all of them for caring about him that much, but the responsibility of having brought the whole MI6 in uproar just by his previously unannounced absence made his head spin. Who was he to have such in influence on one of Britain's biggest organizations?

He could understand it if it had been about him missing work but oddly enough nobody seemed too concerned about it, claiming he was working himself to death anyway, and deserved a few days off every once in a while. No, their problem was much simpler: they had been worried about him. Quite ridiculous, really… Why should they be worried, they should know by now he could take care of himself and would never betray them by telling any kidnappers classified information. Though they had only laughed and/or rolled their eyes when he had informed them about it, and assured him it hadn't been the reason for their worry at all. But what then? He just couldn't make sense of it. Well, he was still rubbish at interpreting normal people's reactions; that was for sure.

M had patted him on the back and even hugged him.

Tanner had tried – and failed – to hide his tears as he also hugged him and made him swear at least ten times that he was indeed absolutely fine now.

Moneypenny had kissed him on his forehead, messed up his hair even more and stated he would have felt so much better, had he taken Paddington Bear with him. He had assured her he would from now on only go anywhere with the bear on tow then.

His minions had nearly strangled him during the group-hug they had given him as soon as he had opened the door to Q-Branch. R had later confessed to all of them having watched him nearing through the security cameras and standing on alert to be able to jump at him right away as he entered. He could not be angry about it, especially since they had also been waiting for him with his tea prepared just the perfect way.

All of the Double-Os had visited him already and brought him snacks or tea. All of them had wanted to make sure he really was fine and didn't just say it like by so many other occasions. Their words, not his. Every one of them seemed still worried and had promised to look out for him even more in the future. Well, everyone, except for someone: James bloody Bond still hadn't graced Q with so much as a message, let alone his presence. Q didn't care about it. Well, at least that's what he had been telling himself the whole morning, giving up sometime around noon when he had finally admitted to himself (not out loud of course) that it was a very shitty feeling being ignored like that when he had nearly died. (Ah, all right, he might be exaggerating a little bit but then what? Besides, everyone seemed to think so anyway.)

It was half past twelve and the members of his team had already left for dinner. They had wanted him to accompany them but he had politely declined by telling them he had brought a sandwich and had to take his pills first anyway. Well, it was true with the pills but not with the sandwich. He was just not hungry, that was all.

So he was working totally alone in Q-Branch on one of his new projects (actually, it was the pen he had been working on earlier but then he had sadly broken it in a fit of rage so he now had to begin again from scratch…) when there was a tentative knock on the door of his office. He looked up confused: so far he knew he wasn't expecting company and his friends usually just invited themselves in when the door wasn't locked because Q had a tendency to become so engrossed in his work that he didn't hear the knocking.

Upon receiving an 'it's open', the visitors proceeded to open the door and Q saw James Bond along with Dr. Madeleine Swann come inside. They closed the door behind them and sat down beside each other on the coach. For a while all three sat staring at each other. Q was beginning to feel gradually more and more uncomfortable with the whole situation but refused to be the one to relent, so he just remained silent, glaring at the two of them (admittedly, mostly at Doctor Swann).

Finally, it was Bond who cleared his throat and asked:

"Q, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." – What a ridiculous question: there was no way he would say anything else to that; surely, the agent had to realize it.

"You can't imagine how worried everyone was about you." – Said Doctor Swann with a serious tone.

"Yeah? Everyone? Are you really sure?" – The boy didn't even try not to sound sarcastic.

"Yes, Q, we're sure." – Sighed Bond. – "I was one of the agents sent to your flat to check up on you. I can't even begin to tell you what Alec and I felt like when we found you hadn't even been there at all. And then when we reported it to the others… it was horrifying."

"It was not my intention to worry anyone. I already told M that when I talked to him. I didn't ask for getting sick."

"We didn't say it's your fault, Q, we just want you to know that we care." – Assured him Doctor Swann. Oh, what a great actress she was…

"Well, thank you for your concern. But as you can both see I'm absolutely marvelous and I also have a lot of work to do. I have to make up for the missed time. So if there's nothing more-"

"Why didn't you go with your faithful minions to eat?"

"What?"

"You heard: why are you here when everyone else is in the diner, eating?"

"Maybe I have already eaten."

"That's not true."

"Why, 007, I didn't know you were a living polygraph now. This skill might come in handy during missions."

"I'm not, I just know you. Listen, Q, I'm very sorry about the way I talked to you the last time. I was wrong and I also reacted childish. And then I also didn't come to talk to you afterwards which is actually indefensible. Though I hope you might forgive me."

Q just shrugged, not really caring.

"You're forgiven. And now if you'll excuse me-"

"Q, please! I mean it, really. When I thought we would lose you I felt I wouldn't survive the guilt about the way we parted… I still feel very bad about it and want to make it up to you."

"You don't need to make it up to me. You were just being honest; there's nothing wrong about it. You told me you can't believe me and think I'm a child. Also, you said my biggest fear is childish. It's fine, you're entitled to your own opinion. You don't have to feel bad about it. Actually, I'm glad to finally know where we stand with each other. And now I really do need to-"

"Q, may we please talk in private? Just you and me?"

"Madeleine, what?" – At least Bond looked just as confused about it as Q felt.

"Why would you want to talk with me, Doctor Swann? Surely, you don't think I'm still in any form in your way, do you?"

"No, just please. Let us talk."

"All right then, why not. I don't think it could be any worse than last time, can it? So, 007: would you be kind enough to wait for us outside for a few minutes, please?"

"Are you both sure?" – Bond seemed conflicted but at their twin nods, he left, still looking unsure.

Once they were alone, Doctor Swann stood up from the couch and went to stand in front of Q. The boy instinctively flinched at the closeness, still vividly remembering the last time it happened. His arms had ached for hours afterwards from where she had dug her fingers into his flesh.

Doctor Swann saw his flinch and sadly shook her head.

"No, Q, I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. I want to apologize." – She gently squeezed his shoulders and true to her words: this time it didn't hurt at all. It was the same way Tanner always did when he was praising him for something. – "God, I was so very-very wrong about you! I honestly didn't know anything about you at all: I just assumed. I thought you'd be a spoiled little brat because James had been talking about you all the time like he worshipped the very ground you walk on. You were the only one he would talk about while we were away, and that was when I realized he'd choose you over me in a heartbeat if we didn't come back and try to make a life for us here. I just felt he'd leave me sooner or later to come back to you. I was jealous…"

"Really? I couldn't tell…"

"I'm sorry. I really am. I know that nothing can excuse my behavior, especially not the way I talked to you in your own flat minutes after you said you'd get me the job of my life. I was angry because I never really wanted to come here in the first place. Originally I wanted to live with James in Paris. It was a hard blow for me to realize he'd never be happy anywhere but here… But still I shouldn't have done that. You have to believe me: I'm usually not that kind of person! Oh, I don't even understand it myself…"

"It's okay, I guess. Lately, I've done a lot of thing I don't understand about myself either. Things I'm not proud of. Apparently, that can happen."

"Did your arms hurt a lot?"

"Just as much as you intended them to."

"Ouch… Touché."

"You have to know something: he didn't come back for me. Me too, of course, but not solely. He missed his life: his friends and the work and even his flat… He has never had much stability in his entire life, well, certainly not since his parents' death and while I know that's exactly what you could have given him in Paris, unfortunately for you, he had already been quite attached to everything he has here. You can't blame that on me."

"I'm not blaming you for anything. I would like to start over with you; if you are willing too, of course."

Q thought about it for a minute. Now that she didn't hate him anymore, she seemed nice enough. He knew very well that literally everyone liked her and everyone was happy she'd come to work for them. Maybe they could really try to become friends?

Having reached a decision, he extended his hand unexpectedly for her to shake.

"Hi, I'm the Quartermaster. Or just Q if you want. Nice to meet you."

Doctor Swann looked touched as she heartily shook his hand.

"And I'm Madeleine Swann. Just Madeleine, please. It's my pleasure to finally meet the person who helped me get the best job ever and gain a lot of friends. And to come home at last."

"You're very welcome."

Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q

Bond poked his head cautiously inside the office to check if blood was flowing already. Determining the field to be safe, he entered.

"Are you two… well… all right?" – He asked uncertainly.

"Yes, we're fine. And now I think the two of you should talk. And I have to get back to my office: I'll have a patient in under half an hour and I still have to review their chart. Goodbye boys! Oh, Q, will you join us for dinner after work? Please?"

"Yes, of course, thanks, Madeleine!"

Bond watched his girlfriend wave friendly at them, then disappear. He felt absolutely confused.

"Well, not that I'm complaining about it or anything but: how the hell did that happen!?"

"We talked things through."

"In just ten minutes?"

"12,5 actually. And yes: it was enough to decide to give each other another chance. I didn't initially have anything against her at all you know."

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't believe you first."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. She told me about the 'talk' the two of you had in your kitchen. She told me everything, even hurting you deliberately. She did it even though she knew I'd be very angry with her for that. I wanted to leave her…"

"So is that why she wanted to be nice to me now? To make you stay?" – Q felt stupid and betrayed. Typical he'd fall for it! Mycroft and Sherlock would never… - "She needn't have bothered. I don't expect you to choose your partner based on how good I come out with them."

"No! You're misunderstanding me. I would never do that to either of you. I didn't leave her because I saw her honest worry for you when we couldn't find you. I saw that she sincerely regretted her behavior. That was the only reason, nothing else."

"Oh."

"That's the truth, I swear. I've done enough damage already; I don't want to do anymore."

"Okay, I believe you. We'll see anyway."

The agent seemed relieved and reclaimed his place on the couch again.

"Q, you have to tell me whether you really feel good now. Because you look pale…"

"I feel good. I'm still a bit weak. I was quite sick. I actually can't remember ever losing a day just like that. Aside from when I was in coma but that's different."

"In coma? What are you talking about!?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

"Of course it's important!"

"All right, it is. But it's a story for another time."

"Q…"

"Not now. I can't talk about it. I never have. It was a very long time ago and I wish nothing more than to forget it as much as possible... or at least not to have to think about it all the time."

"All right, but you'll tell me one day?"

"One day… Anyway: the doctor said I'm fine now. He gave his blessings for me to come to work today, so you don't have to worry." – Of course he neglected to mention that John had only allowed a few hours of catching up with his paperwork, not a long day without food and rest, working on programming and new gadgets. Details didn't matter, did they?

"I'm glad but don't overdo it! You really look a bit tired and sick. Did your brothers take good care of you?"

"Yes, they were fantastic." – Actually, he still couldn't believe how much they had done for him. Thinking back, it might have been like that all his life…

"Will I be able to meet them?"

"Maybe… One day."

"Will that be the same day you'll tell me about how you got into a coma…?" – 007 looked skeptical, like he expected neither would happen anytime soon.

Q just shrugged. In fact he didn't know if he'd ever feel ready to connect his two separate lives. Right now he was just happy to have both areas relatively arranged and in order, with nobody hating him – hopefully.

"I think I should apologize as well. I've had a bad time recently and I didn't behave the way I should have either. Our discussion was as much my fault as yours." – Admitted Q, finally being able to see things clear.

"I don't think it was your fault at all, but of course it's all right. I think we should just forget it. And I want you to know I don't think your fear is childish at all. At that time I just said something to get back for the things you said. It was just a very misplaced, self-defense reaction to facts I knew were true but hurt anyway. It was in no way my real opinion."

"Let's forget it, shall we?"

"All right. So, what do you think I should cook for dinner…?"

The end