[Quentin's been in enough heads to not flinch when Julian's own terrible memories come spilling back at him. It's to be expected when you've just dumped a bucket of extra trauma into a brain that's already chock-full of it. Though really, if anything it's helpful, in a fucked up kind of way. A loud noise that isn't originating in his own head? Yes, please, and thank you. Two brains making a racket is a lot less lonely than one. Point to Julian. On a technicality, but eh, sure, why not.
Second point he wins is that whole thing about letting some asshole fuck him up and blah blah blah. Because that? That appeals to the contrarian in Quentin, which, well. Let's be honest here, is one of the strongest, most deeply ingrained, bone-deep traits in Quentin's whole dumpster fire of a psyche. Petulance doesn't quite override the anxiety racing through his veins, but it helps, and he does reflexively wrinkle his nose in a brief flicker of defiance. Did Julian have any idea that was the right button to push, or was he just blindly mashing until something worked? Who knows. Regardless, that's two points. And a deficit of like a billion.
Still, those two points are why Quentin goes along with whatever Julian's up to that doesn't involve giving Quentin the space he asked for multiple times. He instinctively resists Julian's attempt to telekinetically move his hand, but a glance at his mind—how many times is Quentin going to have to tell this jerk to use his words—fills Quentin in on Julian's intentions. Well... if he's not going to go away, why not? Quentin makes a skeptical expression but moves his hand, partly on his own and partly with some TK assistance, to put two fingers at Julian's pulse, which is now racing as much as Quentin's after some telepathy trauma-dumping. Oops. It's weird, but it's not like Julian has wrists to feel his pulse the normal way. And hey, speaking of missing hands and making it weird, Quentin couldn't help but notice that hesitation about "cold metal" when he was poking around just now, so he helpfully... patches Keller into his own nervous system. Specifically, the nervous system for the hand at his pulsepoint. Been a while since the guy's felt a real hand, right? Might as well.
Also if they can both feel it, that means Quentin doesn't have to actually count.]
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Second point he wins is that whole thing about letting some asshole fuck him up and blah blah blah. Because that? That appeals to the contrarian in Quentin, which, well. Let's be honest here, is one of the strongest, most deeply ingrained, bone-deep traits in Quentin's whole dumpster fire of a psyche. Petulance doesn't quite override the anxiety racing through his veins, but it helps, and he does reflexively wrinkle his nose in a brief flicker of defiance. Did Julian have any idea that was the right button to push, or was he just blindly mashing until something worked? Who knows. Regardless, that's two points. And a deficit of like a billion.
Still, those two points are why Quentin goes along with whatever Julian's up to that doesn't involve giving Quentin the space he asked for multiple times. He instinctively resists Julian's attempt to telekinetically move his hand, but a glance at his mind—how many times is Quentin going to have to tell this jerk to use his words—fills Quentin in on Julian's intentions. Well... if he's not going to go away, why not? Quentin makes a skeptical expression but moves his hand, partly on his own and partly with some TK assistance, to put two fingers at Julian's pulse, which is now racing as much as Quentin's after some telepathy trauma-dumping. Oops. It's weird, but it's not like Julian has wrists to feel his pulse the normal way. And hey, speaking of missing hands and making it weird, Quentin couldn't help but notice that hesitation about "cold metal" when he was poking around just now, so he helpfully... patches Keller into his own nervous system. Specifically, the nervous system for the hand at his pulsepoint. Been a while since the guy's felt a real hand, right? Might as well.
Also if they can both feel it, that means Quentin doesn't have to actually count.]