None of these characters or universes are mine (Property of PBS/Paramount/Viacom/Whoever I can't keep track anymore), and I'm not making money off this story. And I have no idea where I'm going with this. I may not finish it - I have another story to finish first. This will be more 'fluffy' but I don't plan on any OCs.

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All The King's Horses

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Guinan awoke from her sleep with a sudden gasp. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Something was tugging at the corners of her mind, making her head rattle like a snake's tail. Her instinctual alarm bells were ringing, warning her of an ancient threat. Realization ran through her with a shudder.

"No." She managed to whisper. She lay frozen in her bed, fists clenched tightly around the blankets, like the terror gripping her heart. She was a child the last time this happened, and like a child, she wanted the pull the blankets over her head and hide, and pretend it wasn't there. "No." She repeated.

"Yes." Came the somber reply of a familiar voice. He materialized into view with a white flash. He was sitting at the edge of her bed, leaning forward, hands clasped together. There was no starfleet admiral uniform, only a humble black outfit. And he looked as disturbed as she felt.

She pushed the blankets aside and swung her legs over the bed. The coolness of the room made goosebumps ripple across her skin. She approached Q slowly, not caring about her nakedness. She knew it wouldn't bother him. His eyes stayed locked on hers, never wavering. She stood a mere two feet from him.

There was a moment of unspoken communication between the two races - a natural ability between them that required no spoken words. And in that silent communication there was deep mutual fear and sorrow, and great bitterness.

"It escaped, didn't it?" She asked, though she didn't need his answer to know it was true. "We warned you it would."

He scoffed. "I know. I was there, remember?" He swallowed. "And I believed you then."

"Still you voted to let it live. Why?"

He didn't answer, only looked down in shame. "Don't let Picard know."

"Of your misplaced mercy? Never."

He flinched, as if physically wounded by the cut of her words. He stayed quiet. The hard lessons learned needed no reminders. Guinan understood that, at least.

"What will the continuum do, now that it's free to devour everything? Will you run again?"

"Over half the continuum has already left."

"And the remainder?"

"They will stay." And try to bind it again. He didn't need to add.

"It will kill you."

"I know!" He spat, and somewhere in the universe, a star went supernova and its planets obliterated. "Do you have anything more constructive to say? Or will you stand there and prophecy our collective doom?" He hissed.

Her quarters began to shiver at his quantum vibration. Her eyes narrowed, studying him intently. What made him respond this way? Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes were dark, full of grief. "Oh, Q. I'm sorry." She placed a hand on his shoulder. She had lost a child before. she recognized the loss that etched itself into his features.

He shrugged off her hand. "I don't want your pity."

"Then why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, a hitch in his breath. He opened his mouth to spell it out for her, but couldn't force the words. He shut it.

'Misplaced Mercy' was an accurate description: The Continuum's decision to let the creature live or to destroy it had been tied; only one single vote would tip the scales one way or the other. Q's vote had tipped the scales in the creature's favor. He had voted against the El'Aurien's sage advice to destroy it, on grounds that it couldn't help being what it was, and that Continuum was above capital punishment. They locked their derilects up; they didn't murder. At least, not directly.

So they bound the creature instead, and left it bound to the horror of the Listeners. The Q were arrogant then, foolish to think it could stay that way forever. The El'Aurien and the Continuum were never the same again after that. But the Continuum didn't need them, so who cared what they thought? And now it escaped, just like they warned it would, and the few Q who were stupid enough to try to repair the tethers to bind it again were destroyed, his mate and son among them.

"I believed you." He repeated, trying to get the message across.

"Oh." She said quietly. Faced suddenly with his own mortality, could she blame him for wanting to make amends? Could she accept an apology if one was never actually said? For such a proud person as Q, this was the closest she was ever going to get to one. But grief-ridden as he was, was this the right time to be giving it to him? "I could give you what you want," She began, and he met her eyes again. "And I will give it freely." She lifted a finger. "After it's destroyed. Not before."

His shoulders sank at the prospect of the battle looming before him. She could see the responsibility weighed heavily on his already burdened shoulders. That's just what I thought, Guinan thought to herself. You wanted forgiveness on the spot, so you wouldn't have to fight for anything anymore. "I won't let you take the easy way out of this. Not while I'm alive."

He disappeared in a flash. "Heartless bitch." His words echoed in her quarters.

You'll thank me later, Q. She thought.