Frustration had been building inside Q, listening to the two of them talk like this. That the idea was even being entertained was ridiculous - he had a son, and for all the trouble the boy caused, Q loved him - but to give up existence for his life?

He cursed loudly in some alien tongue. It sounded more like metal scraping than anything human.

"That's enough! No," he fumed, "I won't do it. I won't kill you, and believe me, death is a pale word for what I could do. If you want to lay down and die - if you want to kill yourself, out of ennui or guilt or whatever drives your loathing for your own form -"

He turned to Ten with a fire in his eyes. "...Then let him do it. Certainly you've had plenty of experience to grow accustomed to mercy killings, hm? I'm not the type."