Scars-Pt.1

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Summary: Eliot finds out Quentin has been self harming, and does his best to fix the situation. Pt. 2 coming super soon

Quentin's hand was itchy during minor mendings. He started to scratch it under the table slow and deep until it stung. He didn't stop.

He looked down eventually and the patch on his hand was raw and shiny, pinpricks of blood floating up from deeper in his skin. His hand was still itchy, he didn't pay much attention to the lecture, he didn't feel he had the capacity too. After they were dismissed Quentin pulled down his sleeve and laughed at something Alice said before going about his day. Whenever he touched the spot, it was kind of like a pick me up, a sick alternative to espresso or adderall.

That night at the cottage Quentin stayed up later than everyone else in the common room, pulled up his sleeve even further, and started clawing at the inside of his wrist with dull nails. When a bleary eyed Eliot stumbled onto the couch Quentin just had broken the skin.

"What're you doing Q?"

"Reading for..Herbology." Quentin said glancing at the cover.

Eliot looked worryingly at Quentin, electing to sit down beside him.

"Q I know you said you've done some dark shit but uh, fuck Q what is that?"

"The book..?"

"Quentin you know I'm your friend right, uh shit."

"El your tired just go to bed."

"No Q I'm not because you need to show me your hand."

"What? Why?" Quentin responded dumbly.

"Jesus Quentin you've been hurting yourself haven't you?"

Quentin froze, this was a habit he never cared to get caught doing, mostly because reactions were so unpredictable. Even then it was just a habit, it helped him cope, isn't that what everyone else just does anyways?

"It's just a scratch Eliot."

"No, its not. And I love you Q but I don't think this is the first time you've done it."

"Look I'll stop okay it's just a bad habit I picked up, it's not like I'm cutting or anything." Quentin said sticking his nose back into his book.

"No Quentin, just because you couldn't get your hand on a knife doesn't mean it's any less real. Or any less stupid."

Quentin groaned.

"You don't get to be offended or think I'm overreacting or whatever you were clawing your fucking skin off because why? Why Quentin?"

He thought about it for several moments before deciding it wouldn't make much sense no matter what he said anyways, so might as well say whatever comes to mind.

"You ever heard of deferred pain?"

"No."

"Well basically your body can only process so much at a time so it tunes stuff out. Like, extreme, but you don't feel your scraped knee when your other leg has just been sawed off entirely."

"Where is this going Q?"

"Even if its little. Just a scratch, just a bruise. Biting my fucking lip it takes the pain out of my chest. Just a little bit, nudging it forward. And God Eliot someone times for a goddamn minute I need it all out of my head and this helps okay?"

Eliot was shaking his head.

"We can help you do that Q. This isn't something you handle by yourself."

Quentin had had enough. Because he thought of it as a quirk, an inconvenience. One Eliot was going to out and pity him over.

"Eliot, I don't need help with this. And even if I did, I wouldnt trust you."

He regretted it after he said it, he saw Eliot's facade, sauve and sticky, crumble like stale bread. His hair fell over his face and he didn't push it would of his eyes, just left it there.

"I just, thought it was getting better." Eliot whispered.

"Yeah, it was."

"Then why? Why not just take your pills or fucking talk about it at least."

"I have fucking magic in my life El, I shouldn't need them. I've been given this gift, what I've always wanted. I can control things, control minds for christs sake. I have everything I thought I wanted, and it still isn't enough for my head to shut the fuck up."

"Control doesn't just happen Q. When I told you about Logan, the kid I.."

"You don't have to say it El."

"That was control too Q. That was absolute control over everything. Over fucking fate itself."

"But it wasn't your fault Eliot."

"So it's not yours either."

Quentin shuffled in his spot, arms crossing tightly over his stomach.

"Q, I uh, get if I'm not the one to help you. I can't even help myself but. If there's anything you deserve Quentin Coldwater, its realize how beautiful you are."

Quentin felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, he nuzzled up to Eliot without knowing why.

"Q will you let me clean you up?"

"Okay."

Eliot got up and returned a moment later with supplies. It helped he did it quickly, gave Quentin less time to think about bailing.

Eliot sat close to him, and put a warm, wet rag over his hand, stroking gently. It was more care than Quentin had ever taken, he just tended to cover the scrapes with vaseline if anything.

"Eliot you should just sleep, I can handle it."

"I don't trust you too Quentin."

It stung, even though he deserved it. He wanted them to trust each other implicitly, almost artificially. But suffice to say they had a few character defects.

"It's gonna scar you know, it won't be too bad but, you got pretty deep."

"I don't really care."

"You should."

He didn't add anything to it, just let it sit on the floor.

Quentin could tell his hand was shaking a bit, he wasn't sure if from pain or revelation. That his bad habit, his secret escape had been taken away, because he knew how deeply Eliot cared. Quentin hated that he was doing calculations in the back of his mind to see which one he cared more about losing.

"Eliot, is it okay if we don't talk about it. Maybe tomorrow just right now I can't.."

"Save your overthinking for something worthwhile Q. You need too, but tonight I'm fine with getting you some neosporin."

Eliot cleaned him up, wrapping comical amounts of bandages over this hands, fastened magically into place.

"I don't think that's necessary El."

"It's how I know your not still picking at them, they'll scar less if you don't. I know you'll look stupid today but it's better than being reminded of your damage for a lifetime. Okay?"

"Okay."

An;// so yeah 2 parter hope y'all can deal, but low key flyin blind with this one. Also started posting shit on Archive of Our Own cause the magicians community is way more active on there. Under FreeTraderBeowulf feel free to check er out, same profile pick and everything. Also reread magician kind for time number million and changed my username to vicious circe cause why the fuck not? reminds me for book fans

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