darker_london | Okay (Quinn, Flynn)

Quinn was in Peter's hospital, not because he was anything supernatural, but simply because it was convenient. Thomas was there too, and they knew the staff. And Abby could look after him. Even if she did pull some of the stitches kind of tight as she was cleaning him up. Abby didn't hold with cheaters. And she loved Quinn and she loved Flynn, but Quinn wasn't getting special treatment. She also stole his jelly. Quinn accepted his punishment stoically.

Flynn had left him because he needed to not only be checked out himself, but he needed time alone to process. And to ring Tasha to make sure his brother really, really, really was in prison. When he was satisfied that Tasha was telling him the truth, he made her describe how Frankie was manhandled into the car. Only then was he content to hang up and deal with his own feelings. He felt horrible. Like scum. But he had to keep reminding himself that Frankie was the bad guy here and he was done and dusted.

Only when he had reminded himself of this over and entire night of lost sleep, did Flynn venture into Quinn's hospital room. Quinn spotted him immediately and he adjusted his eyepatch, feeling self-conscious about it because he always forgot Flynn had gotten used to the sight over three months. "Mal...hi."

"Hey." Flynn hovered by the door, examining his knuckled which he had bruised on Frankie's face. He only hoped Frankie hurt too much to breathe today, dammit. "Feeling better?"

"Getting there anyway. Physically speaking." Quinn bit his lip and then he frowned, guilt bubbling hot in his stomach. "Mal, I-" Quinn trailed off. He had no idea what to say. Flynn had said he wouldn't leave him, but he had been traumatised. What if he was here now to say he made a mistake and he hadn't meant that. Quinn held his breath.

Flynn noticed. Of course he did. "I love you." He said, plain and simple. Quinn let out his breath in a rush of slight relief and Flynn took a step forward. "But you still hurt me. And I'm so sorry Frankie came after you, Quinn. But you...you still have to prove to me that I can trust you again. What Frankie did doesn't...it wasn't a get out of jail fre...er...well not free..."

"I know." Quinn said quickly before Flynn got lost in the struggle for correct metaphor. "And I wouldn't want it to be. I know I hurt you, Mal. I don't know why or how. But I know I did. And I will prove you can trust me again. I promise, Mal."

"I uhm...I have to say your 'promise' means about as much to me right now as a claim you can breathe in outer space." Flynn said bluntly, as was his way. "But...we'll get there. You were right when you said I slept with Deirdre and you know...all the people in Dublin. Not all of them, but a lot-"

"I...I get it." Quinn interrupted again, not really wanting to hear about Flynn's Dublin conquests.

"And while there were reasons, you could have gotten angry anyway. And you didn't. You understood. And so I...I want to understand this. Whatever it is." Flynn waved his hand around. "How's Eamon?"

"Not awake yet, but he'll be okay. He had surgery. Mum's lamenting that she has two kids in hospital but I told her to stay there because Eamon's worse off. Did you know my...my birth parents tried to call me. Frankie called them and they tried to call to warn me. When they couldn't get through, Susanna called Maree. Which she hates. And Mum and Dad called the house and when we didn't answer, they came home early. Lucky thing too, because they found Eamon before he was too...well...they saved him." Quinn looked lost and he stared at his own bruised hands, wrists rubbed raw from the ropes that had bound him. "I really thought he died."

"Must have been horrible." Flynn said, taking a step closer to the bed. "I had my own share of horrible. I...if you've ever had someone you love beg you not to hurt them...god, I don't understand how people can do that to another human being." Flynn said, shuddering just to think about it. The fear in Tristan's eyes. His pleading words. It turned his stomach even now. Even though he had never had any intention of bending to Frankie's wishes and hurting Tristan. He had still looked like he had for a brief moment. "I don't know if...I don't know if Tristan and I will be alright."

"Mal, you will be. If anyone can fix things...it's you." One of the best things about Flynn was that he never gave up. Anyone who had survived six years on the streets could accomplish pretty much anything as long as he believed he could. "Tristan probably needs time. We all...we all need time."

"Yeah." Flynn looked back at Quinn again, insides squirming away because he wanted so badly to hold him because he looked so broken on the outside, and to be held because he was broken on the inside. But he stood his ground because giving in would help no one. "Quinn. Why...why don't you tell me what happened? I mean with...with the girl."

Quinn flushed a deep red and he looked very shamed. "You...want me to tell you."

"I want to understand. Spectre and Deirdre said something about drugs. Do you think it was that?" Flynn licked his lips and he crossed hiis arms across his chest, hugging himself fiercely.

"Maybe." Quinn admitted. "But I don't know, Mal. I...it started two weeks ago. She met me in the library and I felt...it was weird. She was like a kindred spirit and I was attracted to her but at the same time all I wanted to do was run. But...not. Argh."

Flynn rasied his eyebrows, but he took it all in. "And that's why you were weird when you came home?"

"Yeah. But nothing happened! And I was glad, you know. And then I was with you and everything was better. Until the next day. I got up to leave but she asked me to stay and it was like...I couldn't leave. I couldn't. And then finally I told her I had a boyfriend and I ran and I didn't want to go back..."

"So...you took a few days off to spend with me." Flynn nodded, remembering.

"Yeah...but then, Mal I...I went back on Monday and I saw her and then I woke up hours later and I...I have no idea what happened. Or I didn't. It wasn't until I saw her on Wednesday that she told me. And then we...again. Mal, I didn't want to. I really didn't! I love you. But I...it was like I...watched myself? I don't even know." Quinn sighed and he closed his eyes, letting the room swirl into darkness for at least a moment. It was comforting.

"Quinn." Flynn reached out to touch Quinn's foot. An awkward little motion, but that hardly mattered. Quinn opened his eyes and Flynn was looking at him, grey eyes full of something akin to sympathy. "If she did something to you, we'll figure it out, okay?" He could tell Quinn was telling the truth. He knew Quinn too well to believe Quinn was trying to wheedle out of guilt by fudging the truth. He just wouldn't. Even now Flynn could believe him and discovering that meant a lot. "You just...get better, alright? Frankie shouldn't have touched you."

"Mal..thank you. For...for coming for me." Quinn reached a hand out then and, to his relief, Flynn moved forward to take it. "We'll be okay?" His voice was small. Scared.

"We'll be okay." Flynn nodded. "Not yet. But we will be."