Cardboard Hero
James fled from the room.
He had never fled from anywhere or anyone in his entire life, but right now-
Right now he was running.
He'd compelled Q.
He had compelled Q.
Or, tried to, at least, considering that the omega had somehow managed to not obey the command but-
But Q was an omega.
James slammed his office door shut behind him and yanked open the bottom drawer in his desk where he kept a mid-range bottle of scotch for emergencies, but if trying to command the Quartermaster of MI6 didn't count as an emergency, then he didn't know what did.
Q was an omega.
He wrenched off the cap, not even realising that it was a screw-on, and took a much needed drink. The alcohol burned his throat and the taste of vanilla and spice caused his eyes to water, but he didn't care.
Q was an omega.
Collapsing down in the office chair, he cursed himself in every language he knew. What the actual fuck had he been thinking?! Commanding an omega that was yours, commanding your bonded mate, was one thing and even that was frowned upon. But trying to compel an omega you weren't in a relationship with? An omega that was not only your boss, but the third most powerful person in the British government?!
He was clearly suicidal.
There was simply no other explanation for it.
He took another swig of whiskey and winced as the cut on his lip throbbed in pain.
Q was an omega with a bloody mean right hook.
He deserved it. James knew that he deserved it, that he deserved a hell of a lot worse too. Compelling an omega like that…
The glass bottle shook in his hands and he realised with a start that he was trembling.
Shock, he told himself distantly, it had to be the shock.
He took another shot and told himself that he deserved that too.
007 never lost control like that.
Never.
One of the things that made him such a great agent was his level of control; control over others, over his own emotions, over the beast that lurked just below the surface and begged to be let out.
He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd lost control of that beast during his time at '6. M's death was one, the destruction of his childhood home another, and… Vesper.
Bond took another three sips of whiskey and relished in the way it hurt.
He hadn't thought about her in… years. He hadn't let himself think about her in even longer. But was undoubtedly part of who he was today, part of what made him into the agent he was today. She was the first omega he ever fell for, after all, and until Q…
When he first met Q, the pup's impish looks immediately caught his attention - a tangle of dark curls above milky smooth skin - and he'd had to force himself to look away, in case the stranger caught him staring. And then he'd spoken, managing to show off his art history knowledge and insult him in the same breath and the only thing Bond could think was-
You're a delightfully arrogant little pup, aren't you?
But he had a new Quartermaster to meet, new equipment to collect, and a new mission to begin, so he ignored the strange feeling in his chest and excused himself.
Only for that same delightfully arrogant little pup to introduce himself as his new Quartermaster, and already, Bond's mind had run wild at the thought of that sinful voice being at the other end of his comms.
But that was when he'd thought the boffin was an alpha. After all, what sort of lunatic would put anyone except an alpha in control of the double-0s? Even hiring the old Major, a beta, was a move that had shocked the entire governemnt, and Boothroyd was also the first Quartermaster of MI6 to not be an alpha. Q had certainly smelled like one; like spice and peppermints and alpha, and the pup's sarcasm and snarkiness were entertaining but also expected. Alphas never backed down from a fight, after all, so it was only natural that he fought back when he teased him.
Until Q, James had only ever met one omega who'd teased him like that.
Vesper had a sharp tongue and scathing wit, but she never fought against him, not truly. Bond had correctly guessed that it came from a life spent under the control of alphas, that the omega was not exactly too scared to argue back, but definitely cautious. Whenever he said something she disagreed with, she'd smile and nod and for a split second, something like defiance would flash across her features before being deeply buried beneath pleasant words and flattery, all of which were undercut with just a hint of sarcasm - the only weapon that an omega had against such an obviously powerful alpha.
But Q…
Q said exactly what he was thinking despite all that. He fought and argued and bickered, cutting stronger men down in three seconds flat with an acerbic remark aimed exactly where it would hurt the most, but more importantly - and surprisingly - the pup took no prisoners.
He gave as good as he got and then some; their tête-à-tête in the art gallery had proved that beyond any reasonable doubt.
"Age is no guarantee of efficiency".
"And youth is no guarantee of innovation".
"Well, I'll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of earl grey than you can do in a year in the field".
"Oh, so why do you need me?"
"Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled".
"Or not pulled. It's hard to know which in your pajamas".
It… awakened something in him, something deep down inside of him, covered and buried and smothered by years of regret and exhaustion and death, something that he hadn't felt since-
Since Vesper.
The similarities were only too painful.
Both omegas; tall, pale, and dark haired, and oddly graceful for all of their lankiness. Both wickedly smart with a mouth that could kill. Both with baby blue eyes that could tear him apart with just a single glance...
Both willing to hurt and kill and betray in order to protect the ones they loved.
James had noticed the similarities straight away, of course he did, how could he not when Q was the first person since Vesper who had made him feel alive like that, had made him feel more than a mindless killing machine or a beast on a fraying leash that was ready to snap.
He loved Alec, in so much as he was capable of love, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that the blond was his and only his. The nature of their work didn't allow for that; didn't allow for monogamy and date nights and relaxing evenings spent with take-out in front of the TV. Alec was just as fucked up as he was, perhaps even more so, given his tumultuous relationships with his past, MI6, and Russia. He was just as lethal, just as dangerous, just as inhuman as a human could be. Which was exactly why Alec did fight him and did argue back and did bicker and grumble and growl and snarl and remain completely unafraid of him, even when James was at his worst.
He never thought that he would find someone like that outside of Alec, outside of the other double-0s.
But then he met Q.
Two-way alpha relationships were incredibly rare, and three-way alpha relationships were unheard of, but after Skyfall, after Austria and Spectre and Nine Eyes and everything that had come between… James had considered it.
Considered asking for something else that night he returned to collect the DB5.
Considered calling Alec and saying look, I know we haven't talked about this, but I really think that I could be onto something here, saying look, I might have collected a stray while you were gone, but the last stray I brought home was you, so I think my track record speaks for itself, saying look, he's a tiny little spitfire too mouthy for his own good and I think you're going to love him, saying-
Anything.
But he had Madeleine Swann to take care of; setting her up somewhere safe was the least he could do, after all, and MI6 had to put itself back to rights which meant that Q already had his work cut out for him and he wouldn't have time to be dealing with Bond's incessant flirting.
So he gave himself two months. Two months for the dust to settle, for Madeleine to start a new life, for MI6 to pick itself back up.
Two months.
Eight weeks.
He only lasted six.
Returning had been an experience in itself, and realising that the rest of the pack were not only still alive and kicking, but also all back at HQ and somehow hadn't burned it down yet was more than a little surprising.
He'd swung by the apartment first, intending to only stay long enough to drop off his bags and get a cup of coffee, but ended up staying even longer when Alec greeted him at the door and distracted him with other things.
He'd followed the man into '6, met at the door by Alexis who'd handed him a take away coffee cup with a knowing smirk that he refused to flush at, before being dragged into M's office by Eve. The man had yelled himself hoarse for the better part of three hours, and all the while James smiled pleasantly and distracted himself with thoughts of Q - if the pup had changed since he'd left, if he remained as snarky as ever, if his hair was still as untameable as the rest of him...
He hadn't discussed the possibility of courting him with Alec yet, but the blond had already talked his ear off about how incredible his "cub" was, so he knew that it wouldn't take much to convince him. And he'd planned to do just that, agreeing with Alec when he suggested that the pack go to El Nido's to celebrate his return, deciding to talk to him about Q at the pub, and then, if he was amenable to the idea, talk to Q himself about maybe getting a little closer and-
And Q was an omega.
The pair had stepped into that gym and James had felt his breath catch.
The boffin had bruises along his jaw and a split lip half-healed and the stiff way he'd held his right hand revealed that that was damaged too, lying on the ground having being flipped by Mllicent and giving Fortier the middle-finger, bloody and sweaty and dishevelled, and James had never seen anything so goddamn beautiful in his entire life.
He'd bantered with Alec, so used to it by now that he replied without him even realising it, gave the necessary perfunctory greeting to 003 and 008, tried not to stare too obviously at the delicious heap on the floor, and then-
"If you're quite done looming over me like a well-dressed lummox, 007, I'd quite appreciate some help up".
"Hello Q".
"I've missed you".
-and then he'd reached down to help the pup back to his feet, had selfishly pulled him in close to scent that blood and sweat and violence, and instead of the expected spicy undertone of alpha, he found-
Omega.
James took another mouthful of scotch, not even tasting it as it went down. His mouth was numb by now, and his head was starting to get fuzzy, which was the only indicator he had of just how much he'd drank.
Q was an omega.
Bond knew that he wasn't exactly the most well-adjusted of human beings, knew that he tended to hold grudges and remain bitter over the slightest of things for far longer than necessary. But in a world like theirs, he had very few people that he could trust to begin with, and when one of those very few people betrayed him…
Well.
It tended to sting just that little bit more.
After Vesper, he'd closed himself off from all omega's, not wanting to admit that it was the woman herself who had betrayed him so terribly. It was easier to pretend that it wasn't her who had done so, but a nameless omega, easier to pretend that he'd been sucked in by omegian charms and lies and pheromones instead of openly admitting that she had conspired against him. It wasn't a problem on missions, when he wasn't James Bond but instead, someone else, some indistinct alpha who had no such past with omegas, and so, could talk and smile and laugh at whoever looked his way. But James, not James Bond, not 007, but James had a past with omegas, with one omega in particular, and when he was himself he found it impossible to distinguish between the two.
Between Vesper and omegas.
Between omegas and betrayal.
Between Q and-
All of that.
Taking one last mouthful of alcohol, he forced himself to put down the bottle and turn on his computer instead. He rarely ever used the damn thing, rarely ever came to his office at all, which was exactly why he chose to come here immediately after the- after his attack on the Quartermaster.
The other double-0s would be out for blood, after all, now that he'd committed so horrible a crime against their omega.
James shook his head and tried to focus on the screen in front of him even as his vision blurred in and out.
For all of his past and history and previous betrayals, he knew, objectively, that not all omegas were going to hurt him like that, just as he knew that trying to compel Q had been…
Gruesome.
Horrifying. Sickening. Monstrous, even.
And no matter what his qualms with the pup were, he also knew that he hadn't deserved that to happen to him.
Bond knew that he was the one who'd fucked up that mission in Nice, just as he knew that he shouldn't have engaged the target, shouldn't have broken onto her yacht and followed her to Monte-Carlo, shouldn't have let Ourumov see his face as he tried to stop them from stealing that helicopter, and yet despite all of that, Q had still helped him in any way he could, notifying him of the guards coming his way and identifying the nameless faces he came across.
He'd been furious. Furious at Q for lying to him, furious at himself for even thinking that it had been a lie, furious at the world for making him like the little spitfire only to then reveal that he was an omega, like some sort of sick twisted game.
And he'd taken that anger out on the one person he knew didn't deserve it.
Which led to now.
James pulled up '6s internal database and searched for the list of files that HR kept templates of. It didn't take him long to find them, given the amount of incidents that he and the other double-0s had gotten into over the years, but this report was a little more… serious.
Q looked happier, now, than when he'd seen him last. Healthier, too. There was more colour in his skin, his smiles were quicker to appear and slower to leave, he didn't flinch away from movement or touch, and his very existence seemed… brighter. More full of life.
It was clear that being around the rest of the pack had been just as good for him as he'd been for them.
And he didn't deserve anyone - least of all an embittered drunk of an alpha - to take that away from him.
James filled out the form and hit submit.
It wouldn't take long for the other double-0s to find him. Ironically, he'd never seen rumours spread as fast as they did in the halls of the Secret Service, so he didn't have much time left before they'd hear what he'd done and come seeking revenge on Q's behalf.
Or maybe the pup told them himself. He gave a dark smirk. Judge, jury, and executioner would be an interesting addition on his no-doubt already impressive resumé.
He reached for the amber brown bottle but then paused. He should probably be clear headed for what was coming next, or at least as clear headed as possible given how much he'd already had to drink.
James vaguely wondered if the other double-0s would find him before M did. An incident report like that was definitely going to get sent up the food chain. Nobody wanted to deal with a rogue double-0, and no matter how much he regretted his actions, that was exactly what he'd become.
He also wondered if M would simply throw him to the hounds, so to speak, or retire him the usual way. If the man would even bother telling him that he was fired, or just pull out a gun there and then, and shoot him in his office. The blood stains would be a bitch to get out of the carpet, but their cleaning crew had dealt with worse.
He wondered if he'd spent his entire life fighting to survive only to waste it all in one stupid fury-fuelled moment.
Wondered if he even wanted to still survive if this was the kind of man that he'd become.
"You know, I knew it wouldn't be long before one of us would be killed for what we do".
James blinked, surprised, and looked up.
"I just didn't think that it'd happen on home soil because of your own stupid fucking actions instead of out in the field".
Alec stood just inside the door, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, and Bond briefly wondered if his whiskey had been spiked with something to leave him so unaware of his surroundings, or if he'd just drank that much.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!"
"... I wasn't".
He snorted. "Clearly".
"I already submitted an incident report".
"What, do you want a fucking medal? That's the least that you can do!"
He was right.
There was a moment of silence, before the blond nodded at bruises already starting to form on his face.
"Did Q do that?"
"Yeah".
"Good".
Fair enough.
"He just…" James slowly trailed off, not even sure what he was trying to say himself.
"Gets under your skin?" Alec suggested, "Burrows a hole in your chest and worms his way in there so deep that you can't even remember living a day without him?"
"... Yeah".
"Yeah. I thought you would have liked that. It's been a while since anyone offered you a challenge. Offered any of us a challenge. Q is… singularly unique, in that way".
Bond was finally starting to get that.
"... You never told me he was an omega".
"It never came up".
"Alec".
"James" he parroted back, before straightening up and walking over, grabbing the whiskey and taking a swig himself.
"You can't keep living in the past. Vesper is dead. You need to let her go".
"I'm trying to-"
"Bullshit!" the blond snapped, slamming the bottle down on the desk, "If you were really trying, then this wouldn't be an issue! We wouldn't even be having this conversation because you wouldn't have tried to compel our Quartermaster!"
"You know what the last omega I trusted did to me-"
"-and now she's dead! And you're letting her- her bloody ghost control you! You say you don't have the best past with omegas? Well guess what! Q doesn't exactly have the best past with alphas, either, and yet that doesn't stop him from not only- only working with alphas that are infinitely more dangerous than anyone else he's ever come across, but befriending them too! So just the hell is your excuse?!"
"... I am trying" he said, quietly, "Maybe I wasn't before, not really, but now… I am".
The man studied him closely for a moment before giving a single, sharp nod.
"He told us not to kill you, you know" Alec said suddenly, "Made us promise. Not that I would have resorted to murder, of course. Personally, I think a little torture goes a long way".
James couldn't help but smile.
That was the man that he'd fallen in love with. A man who didn't shy away from blood and bruises and gore. A man who relished in them, at times. It was one of the reasons why the pair of them got along so well out of all of the double-0s. Their demons played well with each other.
And right now, the beast buried deep inside Alec was threatening to come out. Bond had always marvelled at his partner's control of the monster. Double-0s like Charlie and Williams had a tight rein on their creatures; so tight, in fact, that they could almost pass as normal. But for him and Alec, it was less about preventing death and destruction, and more about the damage control afterwards.
The fact that the blond's beast was lurking so close to the surface right now belied just how important this conversation was to him, and for the first time since returning, James started to wonder if Alec cared for the pup just as much as he did.
"Q also told me that I didn't have to pick a side" he continued, regaining his attention.
Bond paused at those words and considered them carefully.
"Meaning, if he hadn't said that… then you would have?"
"Chosen a side? What do you think?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "... It's you, James. It's always been you. And I knew from the very second we started- started whatever the hell this is, that I'd be sharing a part of you with a dead woman… But you need to let her go. If not for my sake, then for Q's. Because you can't work together like this, and if you would just give him a chance… you would see just how incredible he really is".
Alec took a deep breath, and then headed back towards the door.
"You need to change, James. For the better… I'm not going to hit you, no matter how much I want to, because I know that it'd upset Q. But I can't promise anything from the rest of the pack".
"Are you going to tell them where I am?"
"No. Not directly, at least. But if they ask, I'm not going to lie". Alec paused at the door and glanced back at him. "I'm giving you the chance to run, if you want it. Because I still care about you, despite… everything. But know this, James bloody Bond - If you run, if you leave, if you so much as breathe threateningly in Q's direction again? Then he won't even get the chance to save you, because I'll cut you down so quick that he won't even realise what's happened. You say you're trying to change? Then prove it. Your time starts now".