darker_london | It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah (Flynn, Quinn) (Reply)

There were some days when Flynn just wanted to give up on his 'making things better' mission. Wednesday was one of those days. It wasn't because of Tristan really. Tristan had reacted how anyone would have reacted to the news that Flynn liked him. Flynn had sprung it on him because Flynn had no idea how he would have gone about it otherwise. Flynn wasn't so good with social skills. No, Flynn wanted to give in because it was hard moving on and he wouldn't even have to if he could just have his Quinn back. Flynn didn't want to move on. He didn't want there to be a need. But there was. And looking at Quinn now, as he stared blankly out the window proved that.

"Quinn?" Flynn asked softly. And Quinn didn't react. Flynn hung his head in the silence that followed. His Quinn didn't even know his own name. And at the moment, he didn't care to react to Flynn's voice. Flynn's sadness meant nothing to Quinn. He couldn't comprehend it. "Quinn, I'm afraid I'm betraying you." Flynn admitted then, because even if Quinn couldn't reply, it made Flynn feel better that he was saying it. "I'm not...necessarily looking for something. I'm not ready." It was a lie. He was ready. Or at least, he was as ready as he was really ever going to be. Time was not going to ever make this easier. Even if no one else could see that, dammit. Flynn sighed and he sat down beside Quinn, the movement of the bed causing Quinn to stir. But still he didn't re-direct his gaze, continuing to stare out the window.

"Just knowing I have to do it all again...that's scary. Because my future was supposed to be you." Flynn touched Quinn's arm lightly. "The way I feel when Tristan smiles...that's scary too. I'm only supposed to feel that way with you. Quinn. I can't even tell him right. You always knew what to do when it came to people. And I just...I never had a clue. I never will. It's not fair." Flynn sighed and he watched Quinn's face for a moment. "I wish I could see you smile again, Bub. You had the world's best smile." Flynn reclined on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind lost in thought then. "Please don't hate me." Flynn eventually muttered. And then he felt worse. Quinn didn't even have the faculties to be able to be angry anymore. He wouldn't be hurt by this. He couldn't be. And that ended up hurting Flynn all the more.

"Let's get you something to eat." Flynn whispered, and he ran downstairs to find the fruit Katia had left for him. Quinn was being tube-fed, but Katia and Abby were both determined that he could have solid food as well, since his paralysis didn't start until below his waist and he had good head control. Quinn had done well with everything they'd given him so far. And when Flynn returned, the smell of the fruit finally got Quinn's attention, and he turned to look at Flynn. Flynn smiled, though the expression was not returned. "Hey, Bub." Flynn soothed, and he sat on the side of the bed again. "Apples, see? You love apples." They were cut into small pieces and Quinn had had no trouble chewing them before. That wasn't the case this time.

Flynn spooned a piece of apple into Quinn's mouth and instead of chewing, Quinn simply swallowed. It was as if he didn't remember he had to chew without Katia there reminding him. The apple lodged in Quinn's windpipe and he opened his mouth widely, lips gaping to try and get some air.

Flynn dropped the bowl of apples onto the floor as he stood up in a panic. Wide-eyed, he watched as Quinn started choking. And for a moment, he moved to assist Quinn. But something stopped him. Quinn was suffering here. He was suffering and he didn't even know. His brain had been far too damaged for him to even comprehend the shit card he'd been dealt. He had been a genius on his way to a PhD and greatness and now he was nothing. Flynn knew, because he knew absolutely every inch of Quinn, that Quinn would hate it. He would hate being stuck like this. And Flynn wanted to let Quinn go. He could say it was an accident. That he tried to help Quinn, but it didn't work. And Quinn could go to the beyond and watch over them. Flynn didn't even think he was in a place where he would feel the urgent need to follow either. Not anymore. He knew he could survive on his own until they were reunited by his own death. Maybe Quinn could even come back...be their new Thomas...their new hero.

Guilt festered in the pit of Flynn's stomach as Quinn's face went red from lack of air. His nerves were at breaking point. God he didn't know what to do! Let Quinn die to save him? Or save him and leave the Quinn that was, dead? Tears formed in Flynn's eyes as he struggled with the decision, but then Quinn looked at him.

Quinn looked at Flynn, and there was fear in his eyes as his lungs started to burn with a desperate need for oxygen. He couldn't move. He couldn't help himself. But he knew fear. And the very moment Flynn saw that Quinn was afraid, he leapt to action. He rolled Quinn over his lap and he gave Quinn a sharp blow right between the shoulderblades with the heel of his hand. The first one didn't work, but on the third, the apple dislodged and Quinn started to cough and gasp. Flynn rolled him back, his face pushed up against Quinn's neck. There was no gratitude from Quinn's end. No hug, no frantically whispered thank yous. Just the abscence of fear that let Flynn know Quinn was as grateful as he really could be.

Flynn started crying into the crook of Quinn's shoulder then, too emotionally exhausted to do anything else. He had almost let the man he loved die. And now he felt horrible because he hadn't.

Sometimes, all you could really do, was cry.