Chapter Text
Quentin stumbled into the penthouse kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot, mumbling a 'good morning' to the people he spotted from the corner of his eye. The room had fallen suddenly quiet at his entrance but, again...coffee. It took a few sips before he was able to 'nut up,' as Margo would say, and turn around to face his friends.
"Holy shit!"
The coffee mug dropped from his nerveless fingers and cracked at his feet. All the physical kids were gathered around the living room in a circle. And in the middle of the circle, weirdly clean-shaven and surpringly healthy looking, stood a figure which made Quentin's heart start beating faster. He edged his way closer to join them.
"Uh...guys...what's Darth Eliot doing here?"
The Monster immediately zeroed in on Quentin. "Darth. Is THAT my name?"
Quentin took a few deep breaths and resisted the urge to rush to Eliot's side. Eliot, who was still pale and trembling against the cane in his hand. "How did you get here?"
"I don't know. I was floating." His gaze swung to Margo. "You hhhurt me."
"Damn straight I did." Margo's fingers twitched. She was clearly readying herself for a fight.
"I'd kind of like to know why he's still in my body, Bambi, preferably BEFORE you go all Lizzie Borden on him again." Eliot glanced around the penthouse uneasily. "I am here, right?"
Quentin hurried to him then and wrapped a hand around his arm to ground him, ever aware of the hungry look the Monster gave him.
"So how did he get here?" Penny 23 asked. "It's not like we got spare Eliot parts just laying around."
"Fuuuck."
Eliot grinned at his favorite girl. Woman. King. First light of his life. "Margo. What did you do?"
"I thought you were gonna die, asswipe. Did you really think I'd let you STAY dead?"
"You didn't make one of me?" Quentin asked, a bit hurt.
Margo rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot what an idiot you are."
Eliot shifted so he could rub a hand up and down Quentin's arm. "Now, now. Let's not fight. Everything worked out, didn't it?"
"Uh, guys." Alice shifted nervously as the Monster shuffled forward.
"Now that I have a name, can we go to Ssstarbucks?"
"Sure. Yeah. We can do that."
"Quentin," Eliot muttered. "What are you doing?"
Quentin put on the same expression he'd worn before and forced his voice into a friendly range. "We're going out with a friend for some coffee. Right? And, uh, Darth can tell us all about what his plans are. And, hey, by the way-how's your sister?"
The Monster let himself be led to the door. "She didn't understand. About the beauty here. And the quiet."
They all paused at that and shared a glance.
At the nearest Starbucks, the Monster sat quietly and didn't even bother to eviserate the poor barista who spelled his new name wrong. He semed diminished, somehow, as if his resurrection had changed him. Maybe it was the living clay. They didn't even get his story that day, just sat there in silence.