Their day had begun with a vicious row. Alec loudly accusing Bond of appeasing M instead of fighting for their bond, and Bond shouting back that rather would he break their bond than letting Alec die. Dishes were broken and doors slammed shut, before Alec stomped off to his 'bloody test', using a string of Russian expletives to further characterise whatever Psych had in wait for him. Bond waited a few moments, before he went and closed the wide-open front door, Alec not having bothered with it on his departure. With his back against the door, Bond knocked his head several times against its solid frame in desperation. Then he slid down to the floor and hid his face in his hands, all strength and rage leaving him.
Alec made his way through the city, barely registering anything. After a few hundred yards, he hailed a cab, giving the address of the therapist. Not an Mi6 employee, it seemed. Whatever. Whoever. Alec had stopped caring. M had made it clear that he was the problem. She would split them, find a nice guardian for Bond, and probably put Alec away in one of those institutions where they delt with sentinels gone mad. Why should he jump through hoops when they all knew the final results, anyway?
The cabdriver looked relieved when they had reached their destination and Alec had left the car. He probably looked murderous. He felt murderous! He stood at the entrance of one of these modern apartment buildings. Taking a deep breath, he entered the foyer. With a minute nod towards the receptionist, Alec made for the lift and pushed the button for the fifth floor. Not the penthouse flat, then, he thought with a grim, irrational satisfaction. On exiting the lift, he noticed two cameras slowly turning towards him. By instinct, he checked for exit routes, the fire escape, the window at the end of the corridor. He found the right door, unassumingly white like the others. Just a small sign with the flat number, and a name: E. Sidney. Alec huffed. Not even a proper doctor, then. He knocked, then pushed down the handle without waiting for an answer. The door opened into a small waiting room and reception. It was empty. Alec pushed the door close behind him, the noise most certainly loud enough to alert someone. Right away another door opened, and a young man looked out.
"One moment, please," he said, before disappearing again.
He had left the door open behind him. A clear invitation in Alec's world. Walking across, he entered the room, where the young man was setting up a few things on a tray table. This room was almost cosy, with a worn sofa close to the huge window overlooking the Thames, two armchairs by its side, the tray table between them. A thick wall to wall carpet covered the floor and heavy curtains framed the window. Closing the door behind him, Alec breathed out as if he had been holding his breath for weeks. The tension which had been building inside his mind since this morning, Hell, since the first time he zoned out, left him. Slightly confused, he watched the man puttering about with two mugs and a tea pot.
"Welcome, Mr Trevelyan, please have seat," the man indicated one of the armchairs.
"Just Alec," Alec mumbled.
"Alec, then," the man acknowledged with a small nod.
Alec sat down without protest. The man poured tea into one of the mugs and gave it to him. He took one for himself, poured a bit of milk in it and sat down with a contented sigh. They sat beside each other. Slowly drinking their tea, in silence, as they watched the bustling city and the steady flow of the river outside the window. Alec felt relaxed. Curious, he turned to the man beside him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The man looked at him with a small smile, tiny wrinkles by his eyes betraying his age, or maybe just his experiences in life?
"I'm Sidney. Ethan Sidney, but just call me Q, please."
His voice was pleasantly low pitched, the slight melodic lilt sounding like the silent ripple of a small spring.
"Q?" Alec asked, suddenly realising his lack of nervousness.
Here he was, sitting beside a total stranger, in a strange place, waiting for some kind of test which would tear his soulbond apart, probably leaving him behind as a deranged sentinel begging for the mercy of death. And yet, all he felt was–calm.
"A nickname from my childhood. It simply stuck. Something about me questioning everything," Q explained lightly, shrugging apologetic.
Alec frowned.
"So, you're," he looked around the room, not seeing evidence of another occupant, "you're my therapist? Aren't you, well-"
"A bit young?" Q took a deep breath.
"Maybe. But Mo–," Q stopped himself, shaking his head. "M is convinced, I'm the right person for the task at hand."
Alec made a non-committal sound.
"So, what's this test all about?" he just blurted out, surprising himself.
Then again, this was what he did. Take the bull by the horns, face the heat and get on with it. Or rather, that was him, before he had zoned. In fact, thinking it through, it had been quite a while since he had felt like this: being able to face the world head on.
Q was watching him. He didn't even try to hide it. And yet, it felt unintrusive, unprovoking, even when Alec began to stare back at Q, cocking an eyebrow and right away wondering where that came from. Flirting with his therapist. Q just grinned back at him, taking another sip from his mug, before he answered.
"Today, all I would like you to do is take a nap."
"A nap?"
Now, Alec was truly confused.
"Yes," mirthfully, Q looked at him. "Like, lie down on the sofa, close your eyes, relax, and sleep."
Alec winced. Sleeping, even with Bond by his side, had become increasingly difficult. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept for more than two or three fitful hours. And sleeping in a strange place, probably with Q watching him. He cleared his throat.
"I don't think that's a good idea," he ventured.
"Hm," Q acknowledged with a new seriousness. "But it is part of the test."
He looked at his mug, before looking up at Alec. Q's face was open, steadfastly meeting Alec's eyes.
"You will have to lie down on the sofa, keeping your clothes on," Q began explaining, emphasising the last part.
"And sleep? With you in the room?"
"Yes, Alec," Q nodded. "And, I'll have to touch you."
"Touch me?" Alec almost flinched.
"Am I looking that bad?" Q winked at him.
"You'll keep your clothes on. I'll touch your face and place my hands on your chest. Nothing untoward," Q assured him.
"I'll," Alec hesitated. "I'll just follow your lead and lie down and sleep? That's it?"
"That's it," Q looked very pleased. "And I'll be here, watching over you and wake you up in time to get home."
"If I'll fall asleep," Alec pointed out.
"You will," Q said confidently.
Alec was still confused. However, nothing in the room placed an immediate threat, including Q. Astonished, Alec realised that he actually felt safe.
Q got up and indicated the sofa.
"Take of your shoes and lie down."
He was still soft-spoken, caring even, and yet, determined. Alec did what he was told. Any hesitation or confusion was gone. Alec was lying on his back on the sofa, as Q sat down beside him.
"I want you to relax, Alec. Listen to my voice, feel the touch of my fingers, the pressure from my hands."
Q's voice was silently changing into a melodic hum as he began to trail Alec's hairline with his fingers. Alec watched Q's face, as Q's eyes were losing their focus. Clearly, he was concentrating on Alec, on the sensations he received through his connection with Alec.
"Close your eyes," he said, the words murmured into the lulling melody.
And Alec did. Closed his eyes obediently, giving up control to Q. Soft fingertips carded through his short hair, massaging, soothing across his forehead. With a small sigh, Alec let himself fall. The fingers found their way to his chest and now Q used his hands to brush over Alec's shirt, finding pressure points which drew ever new sensations from Alec's body and mind. Long forgotten memories, buried emotions, vivid images from what felt like lifetimes ago. And Alec let them sink in, didn't fight the tears, the sighs; he let it happen, feeling cocooned, protected.
"Sleep," Q whispered.
And Alec sank into the forgiving emptiness.
He felt a hand on his arm. He woke slowly, his mind drowsily registering different scents, sounds, the presence of a man.
Q.
Safe.
He could feel saliva on his face. Drooling in his sleep? He smirked at himself, wiping the worst away with his hand. Stretching his body, he felt rested. His mind and thoughts were in an even flow, the endless circles of the past weeks gone. He opened his eyes and smiled at Q, who looked up from the book he was reading.
"Did I pass?" Alec asked.
For the first time since he had entered the flat, Alec looked, really looked at Q. Taking in his lithe body, the raven black mop of hair, the hazel eyes. He saw the moment, Q realised what Alec's scrutiny was about. His eyes opened wide, as his pupils dilated. They glanced at each other with unabashed interest. Alec blinked surprised, breaking the intensity of the moment.
Q cleared his throat and looked down at his book. He closed it and looked back up at Alec.
"Yes," he said, "you've passed the first part. I'll," he hesitated, thinking. "Tomorrow, I'll talk with Mr Bond. After that."
He stopped, biting his lip.
"I'll have to evaluate both of you. Report back to M. Maybe, I'll need further tests."
Q seemed to contemplate the process. Alec sat up.
"Well, I wouldn't mind further testing," he said with a grin and a look, that obviously sent a shudder through Q.
Q stood and leaned on the back of the armchair. He looked tired, Alec thought. Putting on his shoes, he wondered where his wolf had gone. This morning, both their wolves had kept away as soon as the shouting had started. His wolf would vanish ever so often; animasouls were sensitive, especially a sentinel's. Even more so, when they lacked a guiding bond. Alec closed his eyes, his mind beginning to spin as he thought about the difficulty of finding a suitable guide, any guide in the first place. Both sentinels and guides were nearing extinction. Bond and he were some of the last of their kind, useful in many ways, but depending on finding a suitable guide. A guide, who could, but most importantly were willing to bond with a sentinel, giving up their own freedom to safely guide their sentinel through the world.
Q touched Alec's arm, and Alec snapped back to the here and now.
"You better go home now, Mr Bond will be waiting," Q said quietly.
Alec looked at Q, tilting his head.
"I'll see you again, won't I?" he asked, taking Q's offered hand.
"Yes," Q said, giving their hands a firm shake.
Alec left, feeling elated, his mind at ease.
As the lift doors closed behind Alec, Q locked the door to his "office". He managed to stumble back into the room, collapsing on the sofa. Alec's scent still lingered. He curled himself around the small black cat, which had appeared as soon as Alec had left. She was purring, soothing his exhausted body and mind. Guiding Alec back from the brink of a breakdown had taken its toll. As restful as Alec's sleep had been, as tumultuous and frightening Q's fight were with Alec's entangled, frayed emotions, memories, thoughts, and needs. He had looked into the abyss of an unbonded sentinel, but he had survived, stabilising Alec for the time being.
Q last thought was about James Bond, and their meeting tomorrow. For the first time in his life, he feared his chosen task might prove to be too huge for him to accomplish. He closed his eyes and let a fitful sleep take over.