Quinn had to actively fight to stop herself from shrinking away from the stares of the—of [i]her fans.[/i] She didn't want to think about it. She couldn't think about it. So instead of waving like before she dropped her head slightly, whimpering oh-so-quietly, inaudible over the noise. But it didn't last long. The creeping fear and panic that she'd felt back in the interview room was falling away, to be replaced by the burning worry of the uncertain fate that awaited her. As they boarded the elevator, Quinn counted the moments until they could ascend and get out of the stares. As she did, though, she heard something that quickly disrupted that count. Tormont? [i]Double the guards?[/i] Was something happening with Roaki? No. Besca said everyone was fine and nobody was in danger, and she believed her. But that little nugget of unease buried itself deep inside of her and took root. The rushed ride back up the elevator was blurred, disoriented. Quinn had ping-ponged back and forth between emotions so many times today—good, bad, good, bad, fear, pride, guilt—that her nerves were absolutely [i]shot,[/i] and this wasn't helping matters. But what [i]was[/i] in focus was the way Besca held her, the words that she whispered into her hair. She was [i]proud[/i]. Even after all that, she was still proud of her. And suddenly the world felt a little bit less unfriendly. Quinn hugged her back, just as tight, and buried her face into Besca's shoulder. There was a sob in her voice when she responded with a muffled "[color=ffe63d]thank you,[/color]" but it didn't go any further than that; she managed to hold back the tears that wanted to spill out so desperately, forcing them to stop until the urge abated. When the finally arrived back in the hangar, she made a beeline—though never getting far from Besca—straight towards the briefing room, relishing the hug from Deelie. She'd only been away from her for a moment, but she'd been so [i]worried[/i] and so [i]stressed[/i] that it felt like years, and now everything in the world felt right, if only just for the barest fraction of a fraction of a second. But unfortunately, it was not to last. As the two of them separated, the image of a man popped up on the big screen. At Besca's question, Quinn tried to think back. But nothing came to her. And perhaps not surprising, considering her upbringing. She she only shrugged helplessly. "[color=ffe63d]N—no,[/color]" she responded. "[color=ffe63d]Should I have?[/color]"