Wayne.

The guy who told him once, that information was always power and this guy-- this guy who is ready to dress up like serial killer and break in to houses now knew. More than just Quentin's breakdown in the Invincible could say, and more than he'd even shared in his grief-stricken outbursts in the church with Vanitas--just how far his feelings went.

There's no way to see that and not know just how deep and how far Quentin's love went, how deep the roots of it, even with Eliot dying only to come back on the ferry and live with someone else.

Memories of Teddy are fluttering just under the surface of his thoughts, like butterfly-wings and there are so many of them. How small he'd looked, fragile and new to the world and Quentin remembers, vividly, the scent of his hair and the warm, soft skin of his face against Quentin's own. And he misses him, misses all of it all over again so fiercely that his heart feels raw and bleeding for a minute.

A minute trying to wrap his mind around what Wayne just said, around the timber of fear in his voice and--

"Holy sh-- I'm sorry. I can't even imagine...jesus"