Margo arrived back at Brakebills the day after Eliot had been forced to kill his boyfriend. Or the person he had thought was his boyfriend. Margo, after pressing relentlessly for information from both Quentin and Alice, had been filled in that the Beast had been possessing Eliot's boy toy since the very beginning of their relationship. That he had tried to kill Quentin, but ending up instead almost killing Penny. Margo felt bad she had been absent for such a horrific, quick series of events that had ended with her best friend getting hurt. She hadn't really trusted Mike and had a feeling that the guy would break Eliot's heart, but never in a million years could she have guessed he would have broken Eliot's heart like this.
It was a subtle difference that even Quentin and Alice didn't notice. No one noticed, or could have. Eliot was very good at hiding what he was feeling, but he couldn't hide from Margo's keen eye. He was drinking just a little too much, a little too often, throwing way too many parties, smoking one more cigarette than usual. Subtle, but just enough of a cry for help that Margo noticed. And she certainly wasn't going to sit around and let Eliot drink his way out of sadness. And at this particular party, Eliot was really going at the drinks. Ten drinks in, Margo intercepted Eliot when he was heading for an eleventh.
"Hey, can I talk with you?" Margo asked, glancing around at the other party goers, "Like, alone in my room?"
Eliot stared at her with a glazed look in his eyes but then he blinked and slowly grinned.
"Course, darling," he purred, swaying a little.
Margo figured he had to be drinking some pretty strong stuff from the way his breath smelled. His fascination with drinks had always bordered a dependence, especially when it came to break ups. And having to kill the guy you thought was your boyfriend pretty much counted as a really bad breakup. Margo didn't blame him for crossing his border.
"Come on, you moron," Margo rolled her eyes, grabbed Eliot's hand, and pulled him up the stairs to her room.
It was quieter when she closed the door and Margo was thankful for that. She locked the door as well. The last thing she needed was some horny couple looking for a place to fuck, interrupting her and Eliot's tender moment. Eliot flopped down onto the bed, waggling his eyebrows at Margo.
"So, what's up?" his words slurred together, but he sounded like his usual charming self despite the alcohol.
It was typical Eliot. Margo had always admired that, no matter what the circumstances where, Eliot could really keep the charm going in that sarcastic way of his.
"Look, Eliot, I'm worried about you," Margo began, hoping Eliot was just drunk enough to open up to her but not drunk enough to pass out on her, "And I want to remind you that I'm here for you, baby. You're my best friend in the whole world. I love you. So… just don't keep me out, Eliot."
As Margo spoke, she sat down next to Eliot. He seemed to be sobering up as she talked, his eyes training on her quite bare bookshelf.
"I'm fine, though, Margo," Eliot mumbled.
"Bullshit," Margo retorted, "You had to kill a guy you were pretty obsessed with. So try again."
Eliot's body tensed but he didn't say anything in response. His fingers drummed against his pants and Margo reached a hand out, placing it upon his back.
"I… I thought I loved him, Margo," Eliot said after a moment.
"I know," Margo replied gently, rubbing small circles into Eliot's back.
"I thought I loved him and-and it turned out I was just being toyed with," Eliot's voice cracked as he spoke and his body shuddered as he held back a sob.
Margo chewed on her inner left cheek, waiting for Eliot to continue.
"I m-mean, was there even a point to it? I… I really loved him and I thought h-he really… I thought there was something between u-us and now…," Eliot trailed off, a hand coming up to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Eliot, I'm so sorry that you had to do that," Margo murmured, continuing to rub Eliot's back.
"I never wanted to… I just… I saw the dean in trouble and-," Eliot shook his head, then quickly turned to face Margo.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder. She held him, squeezing him just enough to let him know she wouldn't let him go until he wanted to part.
"I feel so used, Margo. God, and there doesn't even seem to be a point to it," Eliot's voice was muffled as he spoke.
"Shh, shh, I know, baby, but it's going to be okay," Margo assured him, unsure of whether it really would be okay or not herself.
Who knew what the Beast's agenda had been and was going to be? Who knew if there really wasn't a point to the Beast messing with Eliot? Margo certainly didn't know the answers to these questions, she didn't even have the faintest clue to either of them. But she was determined to be here for her best friend. She continued to rub Eliot's back as he clung to her. A minute or two passed, and Eliot's tears subsided.
He sniffled, pulled away from Magro, and wiped the wetness off his cheeks with the back of his hands. Margo glanced around for some tissues and found some near her bedside table. She leaned over, grabbed them, and offered them to Eliot. Eliot gave Margo a thin smile, accepted the tissues, and blew his nose.
"Thank you, Margo," Eliot's voice sounded tired and a bit scratchy.
"I'm here for you, you idiot. So don't you go around forgetting that," Margo lightly tapped Eliot's shoulder.
Eliot let out a little laugh. Margo was relieved to see him smile, genuinely smile. He'd always been one for the dramatics, but there was a fine line between Eliot being dramatic and Eliot needing a tiny bit of a wake up call to his emotions. The balance between that fine line had been restored. Margo gave herself an invisible pat on the back for a job well done.