Besca had to steel herself. Had to. It was like listening to a pilot die over comms, just hammer blows of helpless misery and if she didn’t mute that voice inside telling her to shut down, she’d crumble and that’s all that’d be left. She didn’t have that luxury anymore, hadn’t long before she’d become Commander. Before she’d even come to Runa. There was a sizeable portion of herself still buried in the modious smolder of Westwel, right beside her old life—probably not too far from where Follen’s own self was; difference being, she still had the humanity to look back and miss the things she’d lost. Right now, she wished she didn’t. 

“[color=gray]No, hun,[/color]” she whispered, dragging the words up her throat. “[color=gray]Neither of us are. Never. You didn’t do anything, don’t be sorry. C’mon, almost there.[/color]”

Follen opened the door for them, lingered a moment. She fixed him with a glare that was too muddle to be as threatening as she wanted. 

“[color=gray]Pilots and approved personnel only,[/color]” she said.

He smirked. “[color=lightblue]These would certainly be extenuating circumstances. She is my patient, after all.[/color]”

[i][color=gray]Cross that threshold and I’ll fucking gut you.[/color][/i] 

If he could read her thoughts, he didn’t admit it. But he did reach out and pat Quinn’s head with perfectly manufactured affection. “[color=lightblue]Sleep well,[/color]” he said, and then he left them. The doors shut and locked. 

There wasn’t time or effort to waste. Besca righted herself, and walked Quinn gently across the commons. She noticed Dahlia in the wrong room, which wasn’t surprising, but figured the last thing she needed right now was a drunk bunkmate. She changed course for her own room instead. On the way she noticed Quinn’s phone discarded on the ground, but decided to leave picking up for later. 

“[color=gray]Here we go,[/color]” she said, leading Quinn to the bed. “[color=gray]Made it, easy-peasy. Lets get you nice and comfortable.[/color]”

As if she were handling an infant made from glass and pipebombs, Besca lowered Quinn onto the sheets, head to pillow, and then crouched down beside her. Tohoki Grill was moody, but this proper dark would do her good. She brushed fingers through Quinn’s hair, traced them down her cheek and back up again. 

“[color=gray]Look at that, you did great. I’m not goin’ anywhere, so you just close your eyes and sleep. I’ll make sure you’re safe and sound, yeah? Be right here with you.[/color]”