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Quentin goes on testosterone when he turns 15 years old. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating, knowing that he’s taking a step towards feeling at home in his body. His father and Julia are both happy for him, despite their concerns, and are both with him while the doctor tells him how to do the shots at home. His hand shakes as he attempts the test shot on the pillow, but Julia comes in and comforts him with a simple touch. He smiles softly at her, taking a deep breath, and when he goes to give himself the shot, his hand hardly shakes.
The weeks that pass seem to drag on, and Quentin found himself feeling thrilled at the little changes. He could tell his voice was dropping, he started growing facial hair within a few months, and he just felt better overall. It was a relief that he was terrified he would never get to chase.
Just because he’d finally taken that step, didn’t mean he was no longer depressed.
A miserable night, when he’s almost a year on T, where he was shaking and sobbing, that voice screaming that no matter what he would never be happy, he would never belong. He hesitated in swallowing the pills, but in the end he caved in to his thoughts.
His dad found him throwing up his guts in the bathroom, and he got sent to the E.R.
A week in the hospital, getting his stomach pumped, and talking to numerous psychiatrists, he was sent to a psych ward. He’d stay there for another week, and if he needed further treatment he’d stay for longer.
He got his own room, and tried not to cry himself to sleep every night.
Almost 2 weeks later of group therapy and feeling immensely shitty, Quentin was discharged. Julia hugged him too tightly, and he felt awful for the tears he saw in her eyes.
His mother came to visit him when he got out, acts hardly phased by his attempt, misgenders him the entire time, and then leaves. Quentin still feels like shit.
He goes to therapy, and sees a therapist, and starts going on antidepressants, and he settles into a new rhythm. He goes back on testosterone, and has accepted the fact that it won't cure his depression. He tries his best in school, and as time passes, he feels - settled. He still has bad days, but this time he forces himself to reach out. Julia comes over and they watch shitty movies and eat junk food and go on nerdy rambles.
He graduated high school, and even if he struggled, he still made it. He turns 18, changes his name and gender legally. He finally goes on top surgery. He considers bottom surgery, but is too shy to consider it. He goes through college, struggles through another attempt, one where he comes back with Julia and, now, James to support him through it.
When he stumbles onto Brakebills campus, eyes wide with surprise and mouth agape, he knows his life is about to change. It’s a whirlwind of emotions that wash over him the next few days. Magic is real. He is a magician, and so is Julia. The absolutely astonishing presence of Eliot Waugh and Margo Hanson, who both seem to want to be his friend. The Dean attempts to convince him to go off his meds, but flashes of psych wards and crying and hospitals keep him from giving them up.
Later, as he’s talking with one of the healers about his testosterone, she mentions a potion that will help with that. She leads him into a room filled with supplies, and watches patiently as she stirs and tuts and makes this concoction. She gives it to him, and he shudders as he swallows it down.
“So… will I have to come to you every week for this potion, or-or are you gonna teach me how to make it myself…?” He asks after setting down the glass. The healer looks at him for a moment, frowning with confusion.
“You won’t need to take the potion again. Your body with produce it’s own testosterone from here on out,” She’s saying something else, but Quentin can’t hear her. His ears are buzzing, his heart is racing, and he feels - too much. He quietly excuses himself, and rushes to Julia’s dorm. He bursts in, where Julia is laying on her bed studying.
She looks up at him, smiling as she sits up. “Did you talk to the healer -?” He leaps at her into a hug, a choked sob buried into her shoulder. She gasps, clinging to him as he cries. “Q, what’s wrong? What happened? Did - did she say something? I swear, if she said anything, I’ll kick her ass. I’ve been learning some battle magic from my dormmate, and -” And Quentin laughs, and he loves her so much.
“It won’t be necessary. The shots won’t be necessary,” He says, pulling back to look at her, beaming. She looks confused, and worried, her frown scrunching her face. “She - she gave me a potion that helps my body produce its own testosterone.” The realisation washes over Julia’s face, and she squeals and pulls him into a hug, swinging him around. He cries for a few hours, tears of happiness and disbelief, and Julia’s dormmate, Kady, comes back and complains about the noise, so he goes back to his dorm, giving Julia a squeezing hug before he left.
When he opens his dorm door, his own dormmate, Penny, is sitting on the bed, glaring at him.
“I could hear you across campus all day ,” The man snaps, and Quentin feels his entire body go cold. Fuck. Before he could say anything, Penny sits up, patting his shoulder and rolling his eyes. “Shut up, you’re fine, man. You just - really need to learn your fuckin’ wards before I tear my hair out. Ask Eliot or Margo, I know they’re your friends, and they’re airtight.” He pats Q’s shoulder, giving him a slight smile. “Glad you got your situation sorted out.” He leaves, and Quentin tries not to grin too much. Tomorrow, he’ll go ask Eliot and Margo about helping him with his wards, and he’ll probably fawn over Eliot a bit and end up staying for a drink or two, but for now, he’s happy.
And once again, Quentin felt like things really were good, and that he was going to be ok.