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Fandom: James Bond
Characters: Gareth Mallory, Q
Pairing: Mallory/Q
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Torture, PTSD.
Word count: 505
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt, 'sensory deprivation'.
***
The nightmares never go away.
Medals and awards mean nothing to Mallory. He finally gets home and he's afraid of every shadow, breaking into a sweat at every sound, terrified in his own home. He can't sleep, because he can only think of ice water in this throat, in his lungs, brands on his back and the horrifying splinter of breaking bones.
A year goes by and sleep still evades him most nights, and he can't control the panic attacks.
Three years and he's recovering, but he can't stop reliving the worst times in his dreams.
Ten years, and he's better, he's stable, he's good. He has his position and his job and his house, he can handle his life, the panic attacks are few and far between, and he's not even triggered by gunfire anymore. But there's not a week that goes by when Mallory doesn't wake gasping too early one morning, hands twisted in the sheets, trying to convince himself that he's safe at home, trying to tell himself that he's fine.
No matter how long ago, three months of torture is something that a person will never forget.
Sometimes Mallory thinks that this isn't right. That one old man who was never completely fixed after he was broken means nothing when there's so much more that the world has to offer.
Q can always tell when he's in that state of mind, and he takes Mallory's face in his hands and tries to kiss that insecurity away, because Q's not nearly as whole as anyone thinks either, and Mallory deserves more than him too.
It's hard to know what's real sometimes.
There are things that never leave you, and Q's time before MI6 is a ghost that will always haunt him. It hangs over him and doesn't let go, sinking doubts into his mind like fingernails scraping at his nerves. He has to stop and assess things every now and then, but sometimes he's still left floundering and unsure, because it's all too good to be true.
Days of being alone in a room, locked inside until he talked, no light and no sound and just nothing drove him half mad, and that feeling never quite went away.
Trapped in that room he saw his parents, long gone, but they touched him, talked to him. He felt the rain on his face and velvet under his hands, heard the whispers of the stone underneath his feet and the rushing of his blood with every pound of his heart, drowning out his own thoughts like a drum.
Q pieced himself back together after MI6 recruited him and he has a proper life now, but there are times when he's left wondering if it's just another delusion.
He's never told Mallory what happened to him, but he never had to. Mallory can see it in his eyes when he's tracing the lines of Mallory's face like he'll forget, in the way he's so hesitant when they kiss, like it'll all disappear.
Characters: Gareth Mallory, Q
Pairing: Mallory/Q
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Torture, PTSD.
Word count: 505
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt, 'sensory deprivation'.
***
The nightmares never go away.
Medals and awards mean nothing to Mallory. He finally gets home and he's afraid of every shadow, breaking into a sweat at every sound, terrified in his own home. He can't sleep, because he can only think of ice water in this throat, in his lungs, brands on his back and the horrifying splinter of breaking bones.
A year goes by and sleep still evades him most nights, and he can't control the panic attacks.
Three years and he's recovering, but he can't stop reliving the worst times in his dreams.
Ten years, and he's better, he's stable, he's good. He has his position and his job and his house, he can handle his life, the panic attacks are few and far between, and he's not even triggered by gunfire anymore. But there's not a week that goes by when Mallory doesn't wake gasping too early one morning, hands twisted in the sheets, trying to convince himself that he's safe at home, trying to tell himself that he's fine.
No matter how long ago, three months of torture is something that a person will never forget.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes Mallory thinks that this isn't right. That one old man who was never completely fixed after he was broken means nothing when there's so much more that the world has to offer.
Q can always tell when he's in that state of mind, and he takes Mallory's face in his hands and tries to kiss that insecurity away, because Q's not nearly as whole as anyone thinks either, and Mallory deserves more than him too.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's hard to know what's real sometimes.
There are things that never leave you, and Q's time before MI6 is a ghost that will always haunt him. It hangs over him and doesn't let go, sinking doubts into his mind like fingernails scraping at his nerves. He has to stop and assess things every now and then, but sometimes he's still left floundering and unsure, because it's all too good to be true.
Days of being alone in a room, locked inside until he talked, no light and no sound and just nothing drove him half mad, and that feeling never quite went away.
Trapped in that room he saw his parents, long gone, but they touched him, talked to him. He felt the rain on his face and velvet under his hands, heard the whispers of the stone underneath his feet and the rushing of his blood with every pound of his heart, drowning out his own thoughts like a drum.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Q pieced himself back together after MI6 recruited him and he has a proper life now, but there are times when he's left wondering if it's just another delusion.
He's never told Mallory what happened to him, but he never had to. Mallory can see it in his eyes when he's tracing the lines of Mallory's face like he'll forget, in the way he's so hesitant when they kiss, like it'll all disappear.
