Q stood at the kitchen window, a steaming mug of tea in his hand, contemplating the situation. As much as the crying had been necessary for Danny—like opening an infested wound—Q decisively wished Danny never ever would have to experience it again. It had sliced right through Q. He had no idea how Bond or Alex were able to deal with these kinds of emotions. When they had found Danny yesterday, Bond had to tell Q what to do, how to do it. He was a total mess, guilt ridden and unable to get the smallest things right. In the end, Bond had ordered him to stay out of the way and just prepare the guest room for the two of them.

A ping announced yet another new email and Q turned back to his laptop on the table. Pam was sitting on the counter looking at him much like she normally would eye Bond. Q had the distinctive feeling that if Pam could speak, she would declare J'accuse with a dramatic pause for better effect before sentencing him to death or—if he was really, really lucky—one hundred whip lashes. She had kept close to him ever since the others had vanished into the bathroom. No doubt making sure he wouldn't try to escape from his just punishment. Turing on the other hand wanted nothing at all to do with him. Right now, he was sitting patiently waiting at the closed bathroom door, ready to weave through Danny's legs whenever he would emerge again.

Q heaved a weary sigh. At least they had come up with a plan and Q hoped, Alex was right. He probably was. Q shook his head. God dammit, he really had to learn a lot more about his lovers, didn't he? When Danny came up with idea of Alex working in the field with Bond, Q had deemed it impossible. And how wrong had he been. Where Bond was a bulldozer, Alex was the scalpel. He just knew how people worked. As much as he kept an inscrutable mask at work, going by the nickname automaton at MI6, he would be able to tell Q when one of his minions was having trouble at home or was about to deflect to another department. A flush crept over Q's face, remembering the good luck sex the four of them had when Bond and Alex had started on their last mission. Alex would be so beautiful, vulnerable and open—so very different from his work persona.

Another ping and Q forced his thoughts on more pressing matters. He had ordered food and other necessities to be delivered later today. Danny must have collapsed shortly after he had seen Q off to work. The flat had been cleaned and Danny must have managed to finish the book he had been reading, Child 44 by one Tom Rob Smith. The two of them had been discussing it and Q had found it rather depressing. Maybe they could blame this whole cock up on this Smith guy? Would serve him right, Q thought vindictively. Danny had read a few of his other works, all likewise depressing. Especially the one about a gay couple, becoming lovers by a chance meeting. Nah, of all the books Alex had brought home for Danny to read, the comics by Ralf König were Q's absolute favourites. His retelling of Jago had him giggling from the very first drawing, and when Danny decided to actually read it out loud to all of them, standing up in the middle of the living room and enacting the different characters—that had been the funniest thing ever. They had all been in tears from laughing.

Ah yeah, well. Different kind of tears now, Q thought and finally turned his attention to his emails.

About an hour later, Danny and Bond exited the bathroom and went to the bedroom, closely followed by Turing. Alex came out a little later, probably having cleaned the room and put everything back in order. Good thing, Q thought, things were returning to their normal routine, then. As if Pam could sense Q's relief, she gave a warning flick with her tail and Q could have sworn, she cocked one eyebrow at him.

"Yes, yes, your highness, I'm still at it. We'll make this right again, I promise!"

They had concocted their plan earlier that morning. Alex had seen this coming. He had in fact been waiting for this to happen for the past months. Thinking back, Q must admit that they shouldn't have been surprised at all. Bond and Q had excessive training in dealing with the trauma and suffering they might encounter in their line of work. Alex had been seeing a therapist for several sessions after his incarceration, and when he started out at MI6 he had been put through the same courses and training as Bond and Q before him. They all had Danny to help them with the upheavals and minor dramas their daily work life would offer. And Danny? He had been through hell and back again in the past two, three years. Yes, he had three lovers who would do anything for him, but he had never had any professional help. He had declined seeing a therapist, because he would have problems trusting them. The system, the authorities had screwed him over so many times, it was a wonder he was able to trust anyone at all. And yet, here he was, loving the three of them without expectations or demands. Q had never seen him sulking or irritated, when Bond would explain the latest events of yet another honeypot mission, or when Alex and Q would try to explain the genius of one of their algorithms. Quite the contrary, Danny would be interested and delighted to be let in on their experiences and stories, their thoughts and work. He would ask questions, prod for further information and just revel in their brilliance.

The more Q thought about it, the more it became clear Alex's plan might actually work

Finally, all four of them assembled in the kitchen. Q had prepared tea and used whatever eatable he could find to prepare some sandwiches. Bond was sitting sideways on one of the larger kitchen chairs, placing Danny firmly in his lap and nudging him to lean back against his chest. Danny looked exhausted and embarrassed. Turing was again purring away, curled up in Danny's lap while Pam was overlooking the ongoing proceedings with her normal indifference.

Alex came in last, a small stack of papers in his hand. He sat down at one end of the table, Bond and Danny on one side and Q with his laptop on his other. Pam had retreated to the window sill, looking bored.

"I'm sorry."

Danny didn't look at any of them, petting Turing and by all means looking like guilt personified. Bond cleared his throat and gave a warning look at Q and Alex. They had talked about the guilt question, each one feeling more guilty than the other. But none of that would help Danny in any way at all.

"Danny, of all the people in this room, you are by far the most innocent one."

When Danny tried to protest, Bond took his face in his hands and forced him to look at him.

"Stop it, love! We have all our demons to fight, but you are the only one who had been fighting them alone for far too long."

Bond's voice broke no argument. Danny made a small sound when Bond closed the distance between them, letting his hands slide into Danny's hair when their lips met. The kiss was chaste at first, but when their lips parted, Bond couldn't resist. He plundered Danny's mouth with his tongue, sucking, licking and exploring. Danny let him, became limp in Bond's embrace and protested slightly, when Bond finally drew back. Alex and Q had been staring unabashedly, both shifting in their seats as their pants suddenly seemed unpleasantly tight.

Now it was Q who cleared his throat.

"Okay, with that out of the way, Alex wants to explain," Q broke of, a bit befuddled. "Erhm, he wants to tell you about some of the ideas we have for your future."

Danny went still.

"Please, don't send me away," he said silently.

"What?"

Alex sounded angry and looked accusingly at Q, as if he was to blame for Danny's twisted thought processes. Q lifted his hands in surrender, Bond just groaned and pulled Danny even closer in his embrace.

"Don't be stupid, love! Just shut up and listen to Alex, will you?"

Danny nodded embarrassed, looking down at Turing. This time, the cat was casting accusing glances at them, while Pam just about seemed to have given up on all of them. She jumped off the sill and went out into the kitchen. Q couldn't blame her.

Alex took another look at his papers, before he sat up straight. Very gently, he started to coax Danny into telling them how often he had experienced these kinds of breakdowns before. Alex knew about all of them, but they needed for Danny to realise the connection between them.

Slowly at first, because Danny obviously felt self-conscious and needed the reassurance from all of them, he began to explain about his previous 'lapses' as he called them. Alex and Q were asking questions, while Bond would make sure that Danny would feel safe. More than any of them, Danny needed the tactility, the sensation of being held and cared for in a very physical way. Bond was happy to be the huge cuddly bear, growling at Q or Alex when he felt Danny tense up or become teary eyed. They would take breaks, make tea, and prepare a proper dinner when the deliveries arrived. Danny relaxed as the day turned into night. They all ended up in their bedroom together, not talking, but all their focus on Danny. Making him feel loved and cherished, holding him, kissing and caressing him. They made Danny's world safe again, showed him in every way they could, how much he meant for each of them. The stress of the previous day fell away and they would fall asleep, huddled together, Danny in the middle of them, cocooned securely under blankets and held tight.

The next morning, Danny was up and ready, sounding as joyful as ever—and Alex had a small smile on his face, when he told him to get ready for breakfast and another round of 'counselling'. Danny's face fell in mock disappointment, but he was ready and a bit nervous when they had finished breakfast. They moved into the living room, tea and cookies ready. This time, Alex started out explaining how he would feel, if he would be staying home all day long, just waiting for one of his lovers to return home. As much as he loved all of them, he would probably go crazy within weeks if not days. Danny looked up with a frown.

"But, I'm not like you. I mean, you're a genius. Like Q. And your work is part of who you are. And the same goes for James. I'm—I've never, I wouldn't be able to work like that. I mean, a job will be fine. But, who would take a guy like me?"

Alex smiled widely now.

"Scottie introduced you to Claire, didn't he? When you were looking for Professor Shaw?"

Danny looked bewildered between the three of them. Alex nodded at Q, who opened his ever present laptop.

"Alex and I contacted her. You'd told Alex that she had said something about you could come to her, when you were ready, right?"

Danny nodded, looking even more confused now. Q couldn't blame him. That had been several years ago and so much had happened since. Q continued now.

"Alex had, well, he had experimented a bit with you, Danny."

Alex looked appropriately embarrassed, while Danny frowned. None of this made sense to him, obviously.

"You remember him taking you out fishing and coming home with crochet needles and yarn?"

Danny nodded.

"The cats liked to play with the yarn," he answered a bit defensively.

"And I liked the scarf, you made for me," Bond whispered in Danny's ear.

"Yes, well, the point was that he was trying to figure out what you really liked doing," Q continued, and added a bit sly, "and no, having sex is not the right answer to this question."

He winked at Danny and Danny couldn't help the grin on his face. The sombre mood was lifting.

"I like the books, you've given me," Danny explained. "I like reading and writing. And, you know, Forster's theories on different aspects of the novel—"

Danny stopped, confused about their reactions. Bond was hugging him tight again, kissing his neck; Alex was smiling brightly, looking achingly beautiful; and Q leaned back in the arm chair he was sitting in, casting an approving glance at Alex.

"Exactly," Q practically beamed at him. "Exactly, what Alex explained to us. You see, Danny, we have contacted Claire. And if you want to, you can start at the university college here in London later this year."

Q stopped talking, in fact, he stopped breathing as well. They all looked at Danny, not wanting to put any pressure on him, but all of them hoping he would take this suggestion as positive as they had meant it to be.

Danny looked at Q, then Alex. His eyes were wide. He entangled himself from Bond, who didn't hold him back but swallowed nervously. Danny stood up and looked at all of them once more, before he left the room. They were stunned. Alex was distressed, Bond bemused and Q didn't know what to think. Nobody said anything.

Then, Pam made her entrance. A grandee of cats as there ever has been, she strutted in front of Danny who returned behind her. He stopped in the doorway, looking shocked. He had tears in his eyes and fidgeted with his fingers. He tried to speak, several times.

"I'm—are you sure? Is this really happening?"

Q jumped up as did Alex, their 'yes of course' was drowned in hugs and kisses. Bond just laid back with a satisfied smile, scratching a contented Turing behind his ears. Pam was of course above all that racket, she just found her appropriate place, overlooking the scene from the height of the window sill once more.

Q knew that they would have a lot of work ahead of them. Danny would need to get used to timetables and reading text books and exams; then again, it would be a challenge and it would continue to be a challenge for many years to come. Something, they were sure he would be able to master. And it would be so much more than just learning the scholarly ways of an academic.

Several months later, Danny got up one early morning. He opened the blinds and sunlight flowed in. He walked into the study, one of the spare rooms, they had in their flat. Now, he had his books and laptop placed in there. Danny gathered his pens and notebooks.

He walked down to the shed and took out his bike. He set off, cycling down at speed, towards the city. He was cycling through London. When he arrived at the University College, he locked up his bike. With his bag he walked towards the main entrance. The quad was crowded with students. One among many, Danny climbed the steps and entered the building. There was a spring in his step, the energy of hopes and ambitions.