Quinn sat stock still, frozen in place, stunned by the sheer force of the fury that was now pouring out of Roaki.

And anger rose to match it within her. Both her own, and the deep and seething rage that she recognized as [color=black]Quinnlash's.[/color] How dare she say that about her—[i]their[/i]—family? The sudden surge of fire that burned bright and hot through her body drew a harsh gasp from her during Roaki's speech. And it wasn't just anger, but a complex cocktail of anger, self-loathing, [i]searing[/i] guilt, and—even worse—a nagging doubt.

Maybe it was true. Maybe they didn't need her. Maybe they were lying to her, and they really [i]did[/i] hate her.

She fought to wrangle it all down, but it was stubborn and would not be silenced quickly. For the first time she was glad that Roaki wasn't looking at her, so she couldn't see Quinn's face struggling to settle itself against all her instincts.

But fought it she did. Struggle to settle it she did. This wasn't like the [i]Henkersmahl.[/i] This wasn't Roaki trying to provoke her. By the time she'd finished speaking, Quinn had managed to force the anger back down into the pit in her head that it so desperately wanted to crawl back out of, ignored [color=black]Quinnlash's[/color] boiling resentment. And though that powerful urge drained out of her, the rest—guilt, fear, doubt, self-hate—remained. Then the last thing Roaki had said seeped in through the cracks:

[color=ec008c][i]If you’re gonna beat me, don’t [/i]be[i] me.[/i][/color]

So it was Roaki's [i]family[/i] that had done this to her? Quinn couldn't think of any other reason for her to react so violently to just the mention, just the [i]thought[/i], of the word. Another painful piece of kinship between the two of them, it seemed. That hurt, that [i]scarring[/i] that they each bore on their shoulders, it all came from the same source, didn't it? Why? Why did these things need to happen? To her, to Roaki, why, why, [i]why?[/i] It wasn't [i]fair![/i]

Trying to ignore her inner turmoil, Quinn's voice when she spoke was quiet, so quiet—a stark contrast to Roaki's—and only shook the smallest bit. "[color=ffe63f]It's my turn to ask a question. Remember, you don't need to answer if you don't want to.[/color]"

And now, finally, Quinn got the chance to ask the question that she'd wanted to ask since the beginning, the one that she'd tried so hard to work around to, though now she was almost afraid to know the answer. 

"[color=ffe63d]What do you mean, 'be you?'[/color]"

Her clamp on the storm of negativity inside her was creaking and straining, and she could feel heat building around her eye as her voice's trembling grew stronger. Still, she kept it as gentle as she could.

"[color=ffe63f]What did your—what did they do to you, Roaki?[/color]"