the bleep noise

Request: Q loses his shit and literally tears apart Q branch (the monitor & work table room from Skyfall). Minions have seen before (rare) and try to save stuff while staying quiet/in the background. Q either lost an agent or was outsmarted and is taking it way too personally. Bond observes him flipping tables, throwing gadgets, etc. – anon

Angsty as hell, hope you enjoy it. Jen.

Q was screaming.

Bond had entered to find Q-branch is absolute disarray. The workshop downstairs was intact, but the computer room was several states of destroyed and Q was only just getting started; a small bleeping noise had minions diving for cover, a moment before an explosion decimated a glass window in a shower of glass.

If it had not been for Q’s expression, Bond would have thought the man had completely lost his mind.

“Q?”

The absolute, naked devastation was heartbreaking to see. “We lost him.”

Bond understood instantly. “002?”

“I tried,” Q managed, and Bond saw a small sob, a hitch of breath. “I tried.”

A naked scream, and Q half-collapsed, before throwing a laptop to one side and collapsing into himself.

“Q.”

Q ignored him, slamming out and almost knocking over a table; Bond darted forward, caught the flailing limbs as Q contracted inwards violently. “It isn’t fair, it’s not, I did my best, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I could have done differently, I fucking, he deserved better, jesus fuck, this isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. I tried. He shouldn’t have died, he shouldn’t have fucking died…”

Bond just held on. Q would continue screaming for a while yet, he would keep going with his gradual breakdown until all that was left was tears and hate, and Bond could weather that storm.

“You did everything you could.”

I know,” Q screeched, and let out another scream, this time a sobbing type of one that preceded the end of him. “Get me out of here, James.”

Q never called Bond ‘James’ in public; Q needed freedom, he needed to break down without an audience.

Bond didn’t bother to wait for permission; he simply lifted Q up into his arms, and took the man – flailing and swearing and sobbing – into his office, where his breakdown would not be witnessed by the entirety of Q-branch. “James…”

“I know,” Bond murmured, holding onto Q while he buckled into Bond’s arms and sobbed with pure hysteria. “Q, you couldn’t have done any more.”

“He shouldn’t be dead,” Q cried out, fingers digging into Bond’s arm. “I don’t, he deserved better, he should…”

Bond hushed him carefully, curling Q into him. “I know,” he repeated, again and again, letting Q sob himself out. “It’s alright, Q. You did your best. It couldn’t be helped.”

Q all but howled into Bond’s arms.

The tears dried, slowly but surely dried.

“You’ll be alright,” Bond repeated. “I’m so sorry, Q.”

Q didn’t try to reply, just cried himself out until he wound up half-catatonic in Bond’s arms, nothing left in him but tears, and the destroyed remnants of his equipment that Q-branch were trying to patch back together piece by piece.

“I tried.”

Bond didn’t try to reply.

“I love you,” he said instead.

Q whimpered into his front, and let Bond cradle him, sobbing himself dry.