Q wasn't supposed to have gone in. In fact, he shouldn't have been on site at all, but Bond didn't seem inclined to stop him from tagging along once they were fairly certain they had located Riley's whereabouts; and no one seemed inclined to argue with Bond, so there he was. He had reluctantly waited outside just long enough for Bond to give him the word that the building was clear, and then Q was running. He told himself his behavior was entirely acceptable - kind, actually - as one human being who cared for another. The Gates were most definitely not cleared to be anywhere near the area, after all, so the responsibility fell on Q to become Riley's friendly beacon in the darkness. Not that Riley didn't consider Bond to be a friendly face, but the agent wouldn't be enough, not after whatever horrors Riley may have been made to suffer. No, it had to be someone he was closer to, someone he trusted on a more familial (or, in their case, intimate) level, even if his and Q's relationship was only meant to be fleeting, temporary thing. Still, it would be enough. Q knew it would be enough.

"Q," Bond called out as the lithe man practically flew past him in the hallway.

The Quartermaster came sliding to a halt, his body tensed to run again if it was necessary. "Where is he?" he asked breathlessly, ready to continue his somewhat blind spring through the building if 007 answered with anything other than here.

"Give me a moment to get this door open, and I'm sure we'll find out," the agent answered in that calm, collected manner of his that was both appreciated and yet utterly infuriating at the same time. Did the man not ever rattle? Riley had been gone for days, held captive by the usual, irrational sorts of madmen that MI6 often found themselves facing, and who knew in what sort of condition they would find him? Q was a bundle of nerves, himself; it seemed he had only just formed his connection with the wily hacker before the man had been taken away from him. It was utterly unfair, more so to poor Riley who never undergone any sort of training to withstand being held captive and...he swallowed the lump in this throat as he thought it...tortured. Sure, he had held up just fine as a building was falling down all around them, but this - being directly subjected to the horrors that man was capable of inflicting on one another for the simple sake of greed or power - this was something that was always hard to face for even the most prepared individual. Riley would be a mess if - when - they got him out of this. It would definitely be when. Or so Q hoped.

"Please be alive," he whispered to whatever deity might have been listening as Bond finally popped the old-fashioned lock.

Knowing it was reckless, and not caring a wit, Q surged past him, slamming into the door and pushing his way through without a care for what traps may lie beyond. Lucky for him, there were none; just a still form slumped against the wall across the room, looking impossibly small and fragile even to Q's standards.

"Riley," he called out quietly as he slowly approached, only barely cognizant of the way Bond hung respectfully back behind him. It was difficult, taking those last few steps to reach his current partner's side, more so to kneel down and place a trembling hand against the man's neck. He looked dreadful, both his eyes swollen shut with blood caked through his hair, down his face, neck, and crusting in areas along his hands and arms, and that was all that Q could openly see. He didn't look like he could possibly be alive, but much to Q's rejoice and guilt-ridden horror, Riley flinched back violently at the slightest touch of Q's gentle fingers. "Shh, shhhh. It's me, Riley. It's Q."

Something akin to a sigh of relief mixed with what could've been a soft sob escaped Riley's swollen lips before he somehow managed to rock his body forward, fully trusting that Q would catch him up and hold him against his shoulder. It was heartrendingly touching, and yet also somewhat nerve-wracking for Q, who frankly wasn't sure where to touch the man without potentially causing further harm. He settled for brushing light strokes through his hair and down his back as he softly asked Bond to get Medical in there as soon as possible.

"Did I do it?" Riley asked, his voice barely a mumbled whisper against Q's neck.

"Do what, darling?" Q answered back in a tone almost as hushed and hopefully soothing.

Riley shifted a little in his hold, finding a slightly more comfortable position in which he could put even more of his weight against the Quartermaster's small frame. Luckily Riley, like Q, was also not a man of large stature by any means, his build only slighter more filled out than the Quartermaster's, but his shorter height making him fit rather easily beneath Q's chin. It only made it that much easier for Q to cradle him against his chest, rocking him ever-so-gently back and forth without even realizing he was doing it.

"My job," Riley answered almost wistfully. "I figured out...why I was here."

Q's hand stilled on the hacker's back for a moment before it continued drawing comforting circles around his shoulder blades. "You were sent here to assist me, and you did so quite admirably. You exceeded my expectations, in fact."

With a familiar stubbornness that was not at all appreciated under the circumstances, Riley shook his head, and coughed into Q's sweater for a moment before continuing. The cough sounded wet - not at all a good sign, but Q wasn't in a position where he could see exactly what it was that his partner had coughed up. He had a sinking feeling that he didn't want to know.

"Pretty sure," Riley forged ahead, "...they picked me to irritate these guys...into making mistakes." He laughed, and airy as it was, it immediately turned into another racking cough that ended with a whimper.

Tears prickled at Q's eyes as he hugged Riley a little tighter against him. "Well, if those were your mission orders, I would say you accomplished them with far better accuracy than any of my most trained agents could possibly achieve their own. Every person in this whole bloody ring of cyber terrorists who isn't currently deceased has been rendered a flustered, blabbering imbecile thanks to you. You do have an uncanny knack for driving a man to lunacy."

Riley laughed again, more carefully this time, or possibly he was just too tired to put more into it. Regardless, at least it didn't send him into another fit, which Q was grateful for. "That's good," he seemed to sigh. "Kept their attention...on me."

"As opposed to what?" Q asked. "Their haphazard attempts at world domination?"

With another little shake of his head, Q barely heard Riley breathe out, "You," before he completely stilled in the Quartermaster's arms.

It was all Q could do to hold back the tears now as he rocked Riley slowly in his arms. "What did you do, you brilliant, beautiful fool?" he whispered against Riley's blood-slicked hair, and that was all the time he had before Medical swooped in and stole his partner away.