She stood there. Still. Silent.

Besca said she needed to sleep. And she was—

She was going to be a [i]pilot.[/i] So she should listen. She should sleep.

But there was something to that crying. Something that touched a chord in her, that ripped open that wound in her heart and filled it with salt and sulfur. Something at once familiar and totally, totally alien.

She took a tentative, shaky step. Her legs hurt, but the walk to the dorms had stretched them enough that she could walk on her own, at least. With some difficulty, but she could do it. It just hurt. The crying grew louder as she grew closer. She did her best not to focus on the label on the door. She knew if she looked at it for more than a second, she would be crying too, right away. 

Another few steps. [i]Tmp. Tmp.[/i]

What was it? Who was it? She knew it, and she [i]knew[/i] she knew it. It was a voice that she'd heard. Her muddled brain struggled to put the pieces together as she laid her handle against the door with a gentle hollow sound. She knew the voice. But it hadn't been crying. It had been—

Memories rushed in again. 

[i][color=skyblue]S’nice to meet you![/color][/i] 

[i][color=skyblue]Quinn! Are you okay?[/color][/i]

[i][color=skyblue]Quinn, you want something to drink?[/color][/i]

[i][color=skyblue]Have as much as you like! We brought plenty.[/color][/i]

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her eye slowly widened. She knew this voice. She'd been the [i]first[/i] voice she'd heard after Besca. She'd been the voice that had hunched over her juice pouch, embarrassed. She'd been the voice that had asked Quinn how long she'd lived there. She'd been the voice that had told Quinn to not be worried, she wasn't really mad, and she could have the melonberry juice.

Her hand quaked, and she pressed it to her mouth. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. She'd thought—she hadn't—she didn't know—

[i]Oh my god.[/i]

All at once she threw herself forward. The door cannoned open, and she nearly collapsed as she stumbled through it on quivering legs. Her eye caught up with her ears, and her voice shook like a leaf in a winter storm as a single, trembling word fell from her mouth. A trembling name. A name she never thought she'd say again. But she was alive. 

She was [i]alive.[/i]

[i]“[color=FFE63D]Deelie?[/color]”[/i]