Numb.

As Danny was manhandled out of the car and through the station, he felt completely numb; as if he was walking through a dream. The thought sparked a ray of hope. Was this a dream? Perhaps he was going to wake up in a moment; awaken to find Alex lying beside him, curious blue eyes studying him contentedly in the glow of morning light.

Wake up.

If he could just wake up.

He was led through halls and from room to room fast enough to make him feel dizzy. And all the time the questions never ceased.

When did you last see Alistair Turner? What were you doing in the apartment that night? How did you get in? Were you aware of what was going on in the attic?

Alistair? No, Alex, he tried to tell them. They only stared.

You claim to have been in a serious relationship with this man, yet you didn't even know his name?

They took his picture, his fingerprints, they swabbed his cheek. DNA testing, they said, to compare to what they found at the crime scene. He made no protest, no fuss. He was strangely calm. Maybe he'd finally cracked.

A man in a lab coat took a seat across from him. He wore latex gloves and held a kit with a syringe. They needed a blood sample, he said. He gave the barest hint of a nod. What difference did it make? They'd already taken everything else.

The door to Danny's left swung open, revealing a man in a sharp grey suit scanning the room with glacial blue eyes. Danny blinked in surprise at the familiar smirk.

"Sorry to interrupt," said James, striding in as if he owned the place. "007. Mr. Holt is coming with me."


Q's eyes ached as he leafed through the stack of documents on his desk. He realized belatedly that he was far too tired to comprehend anything he read in the budget reports tonight and quickly decided to have a look through the new plans for the DB-10 instead. The modifications looked quite promising.

He glanced up at the tracking program on the monitor- as he had like clockwork every two minutes for the past hour or so- nearly glancing away almost as quickly. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses to bring things into focus. The green dot on the screen was making rapid progress along the street; far too rapid to be walking.

Q reached for his phone, skimming through his contacts until he found Danny's number. He held the phone to his ear. It rang five times and went to voicemail. He tried again. Same result. He dropped the phone on the desk and bent over the keyboard, windows popping up as he typed commands at a rapid clip. The speakers on his computer came to life, filling Q's office with a familiar sort of white noise. He frowned. Definitely the sound of a car travelling along the road. He increased the volume as a sudden crackling noise joined the steady hum. Distorted voices he couldn't quite make out. It almost reminded him of… a police radio?

Q's fingers flew over the keys, pulling up various programs of his own design. He soon gained access to the list of warrants issued to the whole of London's police force within the past twenty four hours. Heart beating rapidly, he reached for his phone.

A voice answered on the second ring. "Q?"

"Bond. We have a problem," he began quickly. "I think Danny's been taken by the police."

A brief pause. "You think they're looking to pin him for Alex Turner?"

"That's the thing. There's no record of that name and no warrant issued for Danny. In fact," he held the phone between his ear and shoulder, typing a few more commands on the keyboard, "I can't even find anything on Danny. He has a record. A couple minor offences that should still be on file, but there's nothing. It's all disappeared."

"He's been erased, you mean."

Q straightened, looking to the tracker on the screen. "I'm still tracking him. I have a location. Sending you the details. Bond," he clenched his jaw, his voice taking on the commanding tone of MI6's Quartermaster, "get him out of there."


James strode into the room, reminding Danny distinctly of a large predator. Double-o? His mind was racing. He fought to keep his expression neutral even as the imposing figure drew closer, but that icy gaze passed over him completely.

"What's this?" inquired James innocently, indicating the kit on the table.

The man in the lab coat stiffened under his steely gaze. "We're taking a blood sample," he said, failing to hide the slight quaver in his voice. "Standard procedure."

The answering smirk was almost predatory. "No it isn't." James leaned across the table, his voice barely above a whisper as he trapped the man with his gaze. "Never lie to a person who tells lies for a living."

The man's expression quite resembled that of a rabbit caught in a snare.

He straightened in one smooth motion, adjusting his jacket and cuffs.

A heavy hand dropped onto Danny's shoulder.

"Mr. Holt, with me please," said James without looking at him.

Danny rose slowly from his seat, jaw clenched tightly. The grip that transferred to his arm as he stood was firm but gentle.

James nodded to the room, flashing a winning smile as he led Danny to the door. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Danny held his tongue the whole way out of the building; while they collected his few personal items from the clerk and all the way out into the parking lot.

James ushered him into the back of a sleek black Jaguar and climbed into the driver's seat.

As soon as the doors closed, Danny broke his silence.

"YOU'RE WITH MI-FUCKING-SIX?"

James pulled out of the lot, completely unfazed by the outburst. "That's certainly one way to put it," he answered with a barely concealed smirk. "Q," he seemed to speak to the air, "target secure. We're headed to you now."

"Where're we going?"

James ignored him. "A bit stroppy," he said to the air, "but no worse for wear as far as I can tell. ETA five minutes."

"Where are you taking me?" Danny demanded.

"To your brother," he answered simply.

"Does he know you're with MI6?"

"Yes."

He narrowed his eyes. Q. Whoever James had been talking to he'd addressed as Q; just as he'd addressed Ethan that first night when he broke into the house. He remembered the signature on Ethan's texts. "You were talking to him just now," he said. "Why do you call him Q?"

Icy blue eyes connected with his in the rearview mirror. "He'll want to explain for himself."

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Danny chewed his nails and fidgeted in his seat, finding it impossible to stay still.

James had barely pulled to a stop before Danny flung the door open and all but leapt from the vehicle, ignoring the older man when he called after him.

Ethan stood on the pavement, clutching his messenger bag against his side. His glasses in the light of the street lamp cast eerie shadows across his face. He stiffened as Danny approached.

"Are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" he demanded, wrenching his arm away as James made a grab for him.

At a look from Ethan, James took a step back and folded his hands, standing at attention.

Danny pressed his advance. "Are you both with MI6? You are, aren't you?"

Ethan lifted both hands in a placating gesture, speaking in soft tones, "Danny-"

"Is that why Scottie never liked you? Because you're one of them? Is that why you never told me where you worked for the past seven fucking years?"

"I can explain," said Ethan, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Danny knocked it away. "You lied to me!"

"I never lied, Danny!" Ethan stepped forward, gripping both of his arms tightly. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "I never lied to you."

"No," he answered bitterly, "you just didn't tell the truth."

"I was trying to protect you," said Ethan. "I never wanted you to get caught up in any of this." He tightened his hold, hazel eyes searching his face. "Please, Danny. Let me help you."


Danny sat huddled on the far side of the couch, his knees drawn up to his chest while Q studied him warily from the opposite end. He'd purposely left space between them, unsure if his presence was welcome despite being in his own house. The minutes stretched on in silence, neither having spoken a word since they walked in the door.

James had dropped them off, leaving with Danny's set of keys to return to his flat. Danny's bag was still there in the living room from when the police burst in. Q had asked him to retrieve it; partly as an excuse to get some time alone with his brother and partly because he wanted 007 to scope the place out. If he ever hoped to sort out this mess he was going to need as much information as he could get.

"What does 'Q' stand for?" asked Danny suddenly, drawing Q from his thoughts.

"Quartermaster," he answered, quietly pleased he had finally broken the silence. "There are few in MI6 who know me as anything else. My true identity is need-to-know; top level security clearance. To my colleagues, I'm simply called Q."

"So, what is it that you do?" asked Danny, hugging his knees tighter against his chest. He had yet to meet his eye.

"Lots of things," said Q. "As head of Q-branch I have many responsibilities. I equip the double-o agents with what they need for their missions. Most of the tech I design myself. I have a staff to delegate projects to and to help with gathering intel. When a double-o gets to a critical point in their mission, I run the comms. If they get into trouble, I devise and talk them through their exit strategy. I'm there any time they need surveillance. Hacking security systems is rather a specialty of mine. With the right agent, I can make it as if they were never even there."

"And what sort of places are you guiding these agents into?" asked Danny accusingly.

"Facilities housing criminal organizations," Q answered easily. "Terrorist cells, drug cartels, human trafficking rings. We're not the enemy, Danny."

"Then what happened to Alex?" he shot back angrily, eyes shining. "Who killed him? Who's trying to cover it up? Why?"

"I don't know, Danny," said Q, reaching out to rest a tentative hand on his shoulder. When he wasn't met with resistance he gave it a gentle squeeze. "But I won't rest until we know the truth. I promise."

Danny finally met his eye, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He studied the elder's face. Seemingly satisfied, he gave a nod, inching a little closer. When Q opened his arms that was all the push he needed. Danny stretched across the couch and laid his head on his brother's chest, closing his eyes as long fingers scratched lightly at his scalp.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," said the muffled voice against his chest. "You were trying to help me."

Q smiled. "That's quite alright," he breathed against his hair. "I'm sorry I've not been completely honest with you."

"I understand now," said Danny. "It must be hard. Having to lie to the people you care about to keep them from harm."

"Wasn't very effective, was it?" Q sighed.

"It's not your fault," he answered. "None of it was ever your fault. All the trouble I've ever found myself in I brought on myself. I did a lot of stupid things. It's not your job to try and rescue me all the time."

Q hugged him tighter. "I can try."

Danny laughed, shaking his head against his chest. "You're so bloody stubborn," he muttered, snuggling closer.

"Pot kettle," said Q, tapping him lightly on the head.


They stayed like that for a while, Danny seemingly having been lulled to sleep by the gentle petting of his hair. Two furry bodies had since joined them on the couch; Turing having wedged himself between the arm of the couch and Q's hip while Pascal seemed determined to be as close to Danny as possible, pressing himself against his chest from his position draped halfway onto Q's lap. It was all so warm and comfortable that Q was beginning to nod off himself, the stress of the day finally catching up with him. He was nearly asleep when the sound of the door opening jolted him to alertness once more.

He blinked up at Bond as he entered the room, Danny's rucksack making an interesting contrast hanging from the shoulder of his well tailored suit.

Danny stirred as Bond approached, disentangling himself from Q long enough to reach out and accept his bag. Pascal made a small noise of protest as the movement jostled him. "Thank you, James," said Danny, stroking Pascal's fur absently by way of apology. His steady purring resumed.

Bond nodded, flashing a small smile as he straightened. He stood feet shoulder width apart with his hands in his pockets. To the untrained eye the stance was idle.

Q frowned. "What is it?"

"You and I need to talk," he answered, gaze flitting briefly to Danny.

"No. No more secrets," Danny frowned, petting Pascal- who'd fully relocated to his lap- with both hands as though the soft fur would ground him. "Please. I need to know what's happening. I'm sick of being in the dark."

"It's alright," said Q, gaze fixed on Bond. He straightened in his seat, adopting the commanding tone of MI6's Quartermaster. "Report, 007."

He gave a curt nod. "The place was vacant when I arrived; no personnel. But somebody tossed the place."

He tossed Q his phone, who began thumbing through photos of the scene with a deepening frown. The flat was in shambles. Furniture overturned, drawers pulled out and left scattered on the floor. All of the mattresses had been ripped open.

Danny worried his lower lip, leaning into Q's shoulder so he could see the photos. He lifted his gaze to Bond. "Pavel and Sara?"

"It doesn't appear they've been home," he answered. "No sign of violence. Save to your things." He turned his gaze to Q. "What do you think they were looking for?"

Wordlessly, Q handed back his phone and reached down by his feet, rifling through his messenger bag. He straightened with his fist closed around a small metal object. He opened his palm, holding it aloft. "This."

Bond took the small device, turning it over in his hand.

"Danny took it from the crime scene," Q explained. "It was hidden in the battery compartment of Alex's laptop."

Bond quirked an eyebrow at Danny, mildly impressed. "Data drive?" he asked Q, returning the device.

"I'm inclined to think so," he answered. "I ran a few tests on it in Q-branch. It's tamper resistant. Any attempt to force it open will likely result in a total loss of the data." He turned to his brother. "Danny, I know it's a lot to ask, but we need to access these files if we want answers. There has to be something the two of you talked about. Something he told you."

Danny shook his head, leaning back against the sofa cushions with his eyes closed. "I don't know," he said miserably. "Eight months and it's like I didn't even know him." He turned to Q. "Do you know his name wasn't really Alex? It was Alistair. They told me at the police station."

Suddenly Q went rigid, staring at Danny with slowly widening eyes. "What did you say?"

Danny furrowed his brow, his gaze flicking from Bond to Q. "They said his name was Alistair."

Q suddenly felt as if he'd been doused in ice cold water. For a moment it was difficult to breathe. "Stupid," he said, mostly to himself. "I have been so fucking stupid."

He lunged for his laptop, causing Turing to leap from his lap with an angry yowl. At the disturbance, Pascal leapt down after him and both cats fled the room. Q's fingers were a blur over the keys as different windows popped up on his laptop at his command. The frantic typing abruptly ceased as he found the file he sought. At the top of the page a set of serious blue eyes peered back at him from too young a face. He turned the laptop towards Danny.

His breath caught.

"Is this him?" asked Q.

Danny nodded mutely, eyes glued to the screen.

AGENT: ALISTAIR TURNER

STATUS: DECEASED

"Project Alistair," said Q, suddenly weary. "It was top secret. Only a select few know of its existence and even I don't know all the details. I shared some correspondence with Alistair, but we never met face to face and our communication was always highly cryptic. I was under strict orders from M not to ask questions, just grant his requests. All that M would disclose to me was that this project was of the utmost importance, but extremely delicate. It was best if I didn't know the details until the project was past the research faze and ready for development. Whatever he was working on, M was convinced that it would revolutionize the way we gather intel and monitor agents in the field. My communication with Alistair went dark two weeks ago."

"That's when Alex disappeared," said Danny.

Q nodded. "That's precisely when Alex disappeared."

Danny couldn't take his eyes off the screen. He reached out a hand to the image, as though if he tried hard enough he might be able to reach the man captured within.

Q reached for his hand, depositing the small cylinder in his palm. "Danny," he said gently, "I know it's hard, but with Alistair gone, you are the only person in the world who can gain access to those files."

"'The only person in the world.'" Danny smiled sadly, still fixated on the image on the screen as he turned the object over in his hands. "You know, I asked him once if he believed in soul mates; if he thought it was possible there could be one person out there who was meant for you. He said it wasn't a nice idea. How could anyone possibly end up with the right person? Who's to say they'd even be in the same city? The odds make it impossible for there to be just one."

He began rotating each segment of the coded lock seemingly without thought. One by one he lined the numbers up to read "0" straight across until he reached the last segment. This he set to "1." There was a soft 'click.'

The room was still, three pairs of eyes fixed on the object in his hands. Mutely, Danny pulled the lock from the device, revealing the end of a flash drive- just as Q predicted. He didn't seem to notice the tears slipping silently down his cheeks.

"It would appear that he changed his mind," said Bond, his eyes meeting Q's just briefly.

Danny gave a nod, shocked to silence. He turned to Q, holding out the drive.

He hesitated. "Perhaps I should look it over first. I have no idea what we'll find."

Danny shook his head. "No," he said, wiping at his eyes. "Alex died for this. I want to know."

Q nodded. "Alright."

He shifted to the center of the couch with his laptop on his knees, making room for Bond to take a seat on his left. He began typing commands, enabling a few extra firewalls before accepting the drive from Danny and plugging it in.

The drive, of course, was encrypted, but Q made short work of the security protocols and soon had gained full access to the drive's content. He sifted through the data, eyes growing wider the more information he absorbed.

"This-" he stuttered, licking his lips, "this is- it's unprecedented. M was right. This could change everything."

"Explain, Q," prompted Bond with barely concealed amusement.

"Alex developed an algorithm that can identify SIM numbers in any given area by hacking into a cell tower," he began.

Danny frowned. "I don't understand. What would that do?"

"Mobile devices carry a small chip that connects them to a given network via the closest cell tower in range. Each card is identified by a series of randomly assigned numbers. What Alex has developed would allow us to lock onto the signal of any given device. From there we could gain access to the microphone, and potentially the camera. Basically, any device that carries a SIM- mobile phones, tablets, smart watches- could then be converted into a listening device and/or visual surveillance. The applications for this are endless. We could track targets, listen in on their conversations. It could even change the way we monitor agents in the field. Instead of scrambling to hack the few CCTV cameras in a given area, we could access any mobile device in range to better monitor and advise the agent. This could save lives."

"But in the wrong hands," said Bond, "it could do just the opposite. We're talking about limitless surveillance."

"Precisely," said Q. "That's why M didn't want anyone else to know. It's too much of a risk." He took a deep breath and closed his laptop, pocketing the drive. "We must alert M immediately. If someone's looking for the drive we may have a serious security breach on our hands."

"Ah, that reminds me," said Bond smoothly. "He called a while ago. It appears he's been made aware of our snooping. He requested we meet him as soon as possible."

Q stared at him, feeling all the color drain from his face. "AND YOU'RE JUST TELLING ME THIS NOW?" he bellowed.

Without awaiting a response, Q leapt from the couch, tucking his laptop away in his messenger bag and searching for his phone. He found it on the kitchen counter and realized he had left it on silent. He looked at the display. Twelve missed calls.

"Shit, shit, shit, buggering fuck!" He whirled on Bond. "007 if M doesn't string us both up you'll be lucky if I ever send you back into the field with anything more than a water pistol!"

"There's one other thing," said Bond, completely unfazed.

"And what is that?" Q answered irritably, scrambling to pull on his jacket.

"M has requested that we bring Danny in."

Q froze where he stood, hefting his messenger bag onto his shoulder. It was several moments before he found the ability to speak again. "What?"


The drive to headquarters was filled with tension, the silence almost eerie as they rode through the dark streets of London. Q sat in the back seat of Bond's Jag with Danny. The younger man had not spoken a word since they left the house. Q could tell he was trying to put on a brave face, but he feared he was reaching his breaking point. He felt a dull ache in his chest. Sweet Danny. How cruel life had been to him already. How much more would he be forced to bear? He noted how his hands trembled in his lap.

Wordlessly, Q reached over, untangling his hands and engulfing one between his own. His skin was icy to the touch. He rubbed a hand over the back of his in an attempt to generate heat, holding tightly with the other. Danny did not lift his head from its resting place against the window, but he gave his hand a returning squeeze.

Bond led the way down the darkened corridor to a door at the end, the building eerily quiet as its occupants had long since left for the day. He gave Q and Danny a brief nod before rapping twice on the door.

Q almost visibly sagged in relief when Moneypenny opened the door to usher them inside.

"Evening, Bond," she greeted cordially.

"Ms. Moneypenny," he answered with a charming smile.

"Q," she nodded next. Her gaze lighted on the third figure and she smiled warmly. "And you must be Danny," she said brightly, extending a hand. "My name is Eve."

"Hello," said Danny, tentatively accepting the offered hand.

Moneypenny tutted, enfolding her other hand over his. "Oh, you're frozen," she observed. "Well then, come along and we'll get you some tea." She took Danny by the arm and steered him toward the door, looking back over her shoulder to address the other too. She nodded toward M's door. "He's waiting for you."

Q met Danny's look of uncertainty with an encouraging nod. "It's alright," he said. "Moneypenny is my most trusted friend."

She scoffed. "Most trusted friend you never bothered to inform that you had a brother," she chided, patting Danny's arm affectionately. She narrowed her eyes at Q. "You and I will chat later." And she turned on her heel, leading Danny by the arm from the office.

"Come on," said Bond in Q's ear, reaching up to take him by the elbow. "Best not keep M waiting any longer."


"Sit. Both of you."

M stood behind his desk, his glare like daggers as they entered the room.

Q lowered himself into a chair in silence, hands folded tightly in his lap. A glance to his left revealed Bond taking the chair opposite, draping himself like a great lion; entirely unaffected by M's apparent fury. The bastard.

"I trust you both know why you're here," said M.

"Yes, sir," Q managed.

Bond simply nodded.

"Then I shall be brief," said M. "I do not particularly enjoy phone calls from Scotland Yard in which I am forced to explain why one of my agents chose to directly interfere with a murder investigation; particularly when said agent did in no way address the matter with me beforehand. The only reason I defended your actions - which I daresay will not happen again- is due to a name that was mentioned during this exchange and the fact that the individual you obtained bears a rather striking resemblance to our Quartermaster."

M's piercing gaze fell on Q and he suddenly wished he could melt into the floor. He swallowed hard.

M reached into a drawer in his desk, retrieving a file folder filled with papers that he opened with frighteningly controlled movements. He fixed Q with a withering gaze as he opened the file, breaking eye contact only as he began to read.

"Daniel Edward Holt. Age twenty-six. Prior offences; one count public intoxication, two counts possession of illicit substances. Brought in on suspicion of murder of one Alistair Turner." He slapped the folder onto the desk in front of them, letting it fall open on a photograph of Danny that must have been taken mere hours before.

M slowly lowered himself into his chair, his gaze fixed on Q. "Tell me Quartermaster- and I expect full disclosure; what connection does the brother I never knew you had have to Alistair?"

Q swallowed, taking a moment to find his voice. "They were partners, sir."

"How long have you known of their involvement?" demanded M.

"Truthfully, sir?" he glanced at his watch. "Approximately forty-seven minutes." He took a breath. "He gave Danny the name of Alex; I presume to conceal his true identity. I didn't make the connection until-" he cut himself short, realizing belatedly that M was yet unaware of the files in his possession.

M bored into him with his gaze. "Until what?"

Q hesitated only briefly; but then he always was a terrible liar. He retrieved the drive from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out palm up for M to see. "Until Danny removed the lock on this."

M's sharp gaze flicked to the drive in his hand, realization dawning almost instantly as his eyes shifted back to Q. "Where did he get it?"

"It was hidden in the battery compartment of Alistair's laptop," he explained. "It appears that he… hinted this to Danny, intending him to find it if anything were to happen to him. Danny was the one to discover Alistair's body. He found the drive after he called police, before he left the scene. He had no idea what it was. It was chance, I suppose, that he brought it to me."

"And what is Danny's interest in these files?" said M.

Q was taken aback. He glanced at Bond- who had maintained a stony silence throughout this exchange- before returning his gaze to M. "He's just looking for answers," said Q, suddenly feeling defensive. "Danny lost the man he loved; the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Is it wrong for him to want to know why?"

For a moment M was silent, drumming his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. His gaze flitted from Q to Bond and he rose from his seat, crossing to a large file cabinet behind his desk.

"I believe it is time you were both brought up to speed," said M as he retrieved a file from the drawer. He turned and set it on the desk, standing with his fingertips rested on the surface. He turned to Q. "You are aware that Alistair went dark two weeks ago?"

Q nodded. "Yes, sir."

M remained standing, his hand still resting on the file. "Before he went dark, I received a call from Alistair stating that he had apprehended an enemy agent who had broken into his flat. No data was compromised; he hadn't had much time to search before Alistair caught him, but we realized that Alistair's identity and location was. I ordered him to find out who the agent was working for- then terminate him. He already had."

Bond was leaning forward in his seat now, a keen interest in that steely gaze. Q got the feeling that the older man was a step ahead of him as to where this was going.

"The agent was connected to a cyber terrorist organization operating in America," M continued. "Once we had identified the cell leader, Alistair was sent to track him down. This would serve two purposes; eliminate the terrorist threat and keep Alistair out of the country long enough to convince the rest of the world that he was dead. I presented him with an offer of promotion; pending the completion of his mission." He slid the folder across the desk, his gaze fixed on Q. "You are familiar with the requirements to gain double-o status?"

Beside him, Bond stiffened.

Q nodded mutely, his hands folded tightly in his lap. His gaze was fixed on the still closed file as if it was a deadly snake; poised to strike. Double-o. Two kills.

"Alistair has completed his mission and is returning to London as we speak." M flipped the file open, pushing it a little closer.

Q felt as if all the air had been forced from his lungs as he gazed at the photograph pinned to the first page- the same photo he had showed Danny not an hour earlier. He skimmed the text below the header.

AGENT: ALEX TURNER

STATUS: ACTIVE

Alex. Q lifted his gaze.

M stared back evenly. "Meet our new 009."