Biography | Quentin Beck

Saturday, April 5th, 2016

"Here you are, one ticket to England. Your flight is located at Gate A and it leaves in about an hour."

"Thank you." Quentin mumbled before taking the ticket and moving out of line. He felt horrible for what he did to get it cheaper. With the limp still in his leg he managed to convince the staff he was handicapped in which she made his ticket cheaper. After traveling with Tony he even knew they weren't supposed to do that and... well, he was guilty about a lot of things but he couldn't deal with it right now. 

With a few extra bills he went ahead and bought a few needs. Some snacks, a drink and some very uh.. not his style, clothes but he had been in his remaining clothing for days and he was sick of it. He used the public bathroom sink to try and wash up, tossing his old clothing in the trash before waiting patiently at the gate. His face was neutral but inside was an emotional war.

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Finally he was boarding as he sat in the seat closest to the window. He leaned his head against the glass and closed his eyes. Tony was really secretive so he was hoping that his dismissal was kept under the radar. It was. He was able to convince Rhodes to  have his mates pick up his car and drop it off at the airport in England so that he would at least have that. 

Quentin was so tired he was dozing until his phone dinged. He didn't have a charger so he didn't use it often but he took a quick peek to see that James had let him know the move was successful. He turned his phone off and closed his eyes. He tried to text Tony a few times earlier whether it was to take anger out or apologize but neither were happening as he had been blocked which brought the hurt right back out. Quentin had never been more sad.

"Excuse me sir." A flight attendant had said. When the man looked over she smiled at him. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank-" Quentin cut himself off. Tony had alcoholic problems. He drank to forget and it lasted a long time so surely... there must of been something to it. "Actually uh.. do you have anything with alcohol?" 

"We have beer, wine and liquor. Would you like one of the following?"

The man knew nothing about these drinks so he just guessed one. "Uh.. I'll take a beer please.."

"Alrighty, I'll be right back with that." She smiled at him before leaving with her cart to the next passenger. Quentin didn't even recognize himself anymore. Departed from Tony, a murderer, drinking?? What had he become. No he couldn't go through with this he-

"Here's your drink sir." She extended her arm out for him. Shit well now it was too late to back out.

"...Thank...Thank you." He stuttered as he took it from her hand.

"Of course, enjoy your flight." 

The troubled man looked down at the cold beverage that was numbing his fingers. A sigh as he unscrewed the cap and slowly lifted it to his lips. Did he really want to go down this path? Would it be worth it to become a possible alcoholic? An internal conflict went on in his mind and frankly... who would see this emotional breakdown.. and what would it matter? He had no reputation and if it made him feel better than... fuck it.

Quentin went through with it and tilted the bottle just far enough to actually enter his mouth. It tasted disgusting but being desperate for a little happiness he kept drinking until he had to stop. It burned and the taste stayed in his mouth as he screwed the cap back on and set it aside. The constant voices went from screaming, to static to silence.

It... worked?

Beck let out a small rejoiced laugh as he could finally think. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he could actually relax. Ten hour long flight and for once he was actually peaceful. Maybe this stuff really did work. No wonder he was so miserable. Everything might be okay afterall.