darker_london | Make it better! (Flynn/Quinn) (Reply)

"You still look sick." Flynn informed Quinn, in his typical blunt manner. He didn't want to dance around this topic anyway, it was important. He handed Quinn a glass of water and then he climbed into Quinn's bed, lifting Booster into his lap instead of shooing him.

Quinn took a sip of the water and then he nodded. "Yes. I still feel sick."

Flynn frowned. He didn't like it! "I want to make it better. Do you need me to inject you?!"

Quinn chuckled at that. Only Flynn would look so eager about injecting someone when it wasn't like...heroin or something, and then only because it was supposed to help. "I don't think we need to resort to that just yet."

"We could test your blood sugar like the doctor showed us! Just to make sure!"

"Mal-" Quinn leaned up off of his pillows and he cupped Flynn's face in his hand. "I am sure. I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'll be okay."

"But..." Flynn pulled his face away from Quinn's hand then, gently edging Booster off of his lap. "Why wouldn't you want to make sure?"

Quinn was slightly hurt that Flynn had pulled away from him, but he forced himself to ignore that because Flynn seemed genuinely upset. "I can feel the difference, Bub."

"Well I can't!" Flynn snapped suddenly.

Quinn looked completely shocked, his jaw having dropped the second Flynn's tone had become harsh. Flynn didn't speak to him like that... "Mal-"

Flynn's face crumpled at the shocked look on Quinn's features. He'd hurt his Quinn and that had been the last thing he'd been trying to do. But he was terrified and he'd been holding it in, trying to be strong and brave and it all came tumbling out at once, "I'm sorry! I just worry. I'm so worried. Quinn. If anything happens and I lose you again, I can't...I don't think I can...the very thought makes it hard to breathe. You said it! In your class, you said we're complete together, and incomplete apart and you were right, you know. I was back in that place! The other day when I was running from that guy with the gun and I went to Al's? I was back in my old bedroom and just being there...it made me feel so empty inside seeing it, Quinn. Remembering the feeling of it. The loneliness and the solitude." He crawled up so he was inches away from Quinn's face then. "It scares me. The thought of going back to that. Of having all of this taken away. Because I was alone for so long and I didn't mind it then, but I didn't realise how miserable I was, and now if I lost this..you...I would-"

Flynn had a habit of saying things that absolutely broke Quinn's heart, but it was hardly Flynn's fault. He'd been through hell, and all he was doing was being incredibly honest. It wasn't his fault that the reality he'd been through was gut-wrenchingly horrible. And Quinn understood now, the desperate need Flynn felt to know Quinn was alright. Not just to hear it, but to know. So Quinn reached out and he pulled Flynn towards him, kissing him deeply to shut him up in a nice way, other than shushing him, which Quinn would never do. Then, when he pulled away, he kissed Flynn's shocked cheek. "Alright, Mal. I'll test my blood sugar. And I'll test it any other time you feel there might be something wrong, and I'll test it when I feel there might be something slightly wrong because I won't leave you to that again. Alright? No way."

Quinn brought a small smile to Flynn's lips and he blushed then, and bit his lip. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Bub. I'm sorry. For making you worry. I'm glad you told me...all of that."

"'s not your fault." Flynn mumbled, wrapping his arms around Quinn's waist and resting his head against Quinn's chest. "I'm a big scaredy cat."

"Well. Good thing I like cats then." Quinn winked.