He's walking across the moors with his father and Kincade, a welcome interlude in his educational year, during which James has returned early from boarding school to spend time with his parents at Skyfall. His father is teaching him how to shoot. To respect weapons for the dangerous tools they are. They walk. They talk. James listens. His father's words are precious. There is a truth and wisdom in each of them. He does not waste words when he speaks. James knows it is important to listen.
"Love can be dangerous, James. But it only makes you weak if you see it as a weakness. And since when has anything that's worth the effort ever been without risk?" Kincade walks ahead, giving the boy and his father their shared moments. Andrew Bond crouches down to look James in the eye, placing the rifle on the ground next to him to take hold of James by the arms and into a crushing embrace. "To know when to deny yourself love is as important as when to allow it. Knowing that, might one day save your life and the life of the person you love, James."
So James listens, with all his senses, when engaging with the world around him. It's an important skill. It's what makes him such an incredible agent.
His vision is foggy. The first thing he feels is the metal trapping his wrists. The first thing he hears is Oberhauser's voice. The first thing he sees as his sight clears is Q strapped into a reclining chair, head pinned down by a metal ring, immobilising him completely. Bond tugs his restraints experimentally, only to feel the press of cool metalled gun barrel against his temple.
"Excellent," said Oberhauser, clapping his hands once, "you're awake." He took a seat next to Bond in front of a console. "I certainly wouldn't want you to miss the show."
Bond's eyes remain fixed on Q. "What are you going to do, you mental bastard?" he growled, mouth dry.
Oberhauser swivelled in his chair, resting his palms flat on his thighs while he faced Bond. "James, James, James," he said, shaking his head and sighing. He stood and walked over to Q, who had his eyes closed and was evidently focussed inwardly at the moment, trying to steady his rapidly evolving sense of inevitable doom. He ran his fingers through the tussled locks of the Quartermaster, took a relaxed stance next to his chair and clasped his hands in front of him.
"As you asked so nicely. First, I'm going to remove all his memories of the people he knows and loves, those he lost and those he despised. All the faces that ever crossed his path." He stepped then to stand in front of Bond, tipping forward and placing his hands behind his back. "Then, Cuckoo, I'm going to let him watch while I kill you and you will watch him as he watches. He will be indifferent. He will be cold. He will not care because he will not know or remember you."
Bond gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to tug at his restraints again, gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles went whiter than the walls of the room around them. The metal tip of the gun still pressed to his head, reminding him how completely helpless he was.
He stood up straight and circled behind Bond, leaning over again, close to his ear, taunting in his tone of voice. "But before that, you will be treated to the sight of one Arthur Clifton, greatest asset of the British Secret Service betray his country and help me take complete control of the CNS, all the secrets of MI5 and MI6 combined for my pleasure." He strolled towards his chair. "Oh I had promised Denbigh, a degree of autonomy and control in his new position as Head of the CNS, but really. Where's the fun in that when I can have it all?"
Oberhauser took his seat in front of the console again and called with a sing-song tone. "Arrthhuurrr…" tapping away on the keys before him. "Arrthhuurr, my dear."
Q opened his eyes. He couldn't keep the beseeching, apologetic look from his eyes as he gazed at Bond. James recognised it instantly. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Arthur. We are soldiers. Our duty to our country always comes first."
"Awww. How very touching," said Obenhauser mockingly. "Pathetic, but touching."
A few more keystrokes and he was done. He looked over at Q with a smile. "I suggest you take one last, long look at your Double-O. For in a moment, James and I will be trading places and I become the Cuckoo and steal you from him."
He hit enter on the keyboard. "Say au revoir, mon amour," he whispered with calm sadism, both he and Bond watching the thread-thin needle next to Q's skull whirl into life and glide towards the top of his ear. "This might sting a little, Arthur…" were the last words Q heard before the sound of his own scream filled the room.