Quinn dropped her eye from Besca's. She'd seen it, the pain that had just [i]torn[/i] through her, the guilt and the [i]pity.[/i]

Somehow the last one was the worst. Besca was in pain too. She hurt just like Quinn did. But she hid it for [i]her[/i] sake, didn't she? Or, for [i]theirs[/i]. She didn't think about it, didn't let it show, so she—Dahlia—everyone on the Aerie didn't need to worry about her, didn't she?

And now the guilt began to drip through [i]her[/i] in turn for talking about it. It had upset her. She wouldn't let it show, of course. But it had. She had. And there was nothing in the world she wanted to do less than upset Besca.

"[color=gray]You're afraid. You...you don't know if you can do it, do you?[/color]"

Well...[i]almost[/i] nothing.

"[color=ffe63d]No,[/color]" she whispered, pain and confusion and horror warring in her tone. "[color=ffe63d]I can't. I mean—[/color]" One. Two. Three. Three deep breaths. "[color=ffe63d]How could I? She...she's not—not like [i]them[/i].[/color]" Her voice grew leaden, filled now with a deep, deep sadness. "[color=ffe63d]She's just a kid. We're both [i]kids[/i]. Why does she—why do I need to—[/color]"

She cut herself off harshly. No self pity. Any other day, and she might indulge herself. But not today. Absolutely not. "[color=ffe63d]Sorry,[/color]" she mumbled miserably, looking down at her untouched plate of food. She suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

"[color=ffe63d]I just wanted to know...[/color]" A long pause now, as Quinn built up the courage to ask a question she didn't think she really wanted to the answer to. "[color=ffe63d]...How do you live with it?[/color]" Then, hopelessly, "[color=ffe63d]Does it ever get better?[/color]"