[ oh, quentin can't stand the tears, and not out of anything nefarious - only that pretty-faced boys like tim laughlin shouldn't be sad like this. but he can understand what it's like to nearly lose someone you love, and feel like it's your fault. his father died because of him. he'll never forget it.

so he squeezes tim one last time before releasing him, and reaches up with one thumb to gently swipe away a rogue tear. ]

Good.

[ a small smile and his hand drops to tim's shoulder, giving a squeeze. ]

Yes, you should be there when he wakes. And no need to thank me - eat your breakfast or I'll have to come back and scold you.

[ he gives his arm a final, firm pat, swipes one more pastry off tim's plate with a little amusing waggle of his brows, and starts away from him, hands in his pockets, walking back down the hallway he'd come from. ]