Quinn's brief tenure alone in the darkness, absent of both [color=black]Quinnlash[/color] and whoever was moving around outside of her door, was an upsetting one indeed. The pain in her head, the horrible sick feeling in her stomach...they cast her mind back years, to that awful, awful day she'd first seen the sunset. When her eye had burst from her skull. So, all alone, there was nothing she could do but stare at the wall and try not to cry.

Then the door creeped open, and she turned her head leaving laconically to see what was happening, even through the light from the kitchen hurt to look at. When the shadow loomed in front of her, synapses sparked on her brain and her eye shot open. The memory of the pain and sickness...the shadow of a woman coming into her room...for just a brief, heart-stopping moment, her muddled mind was terrified, truly terrified and utterly convinced, that MOM had come back to punish her.

Then the moment passed, and the shadow revealed itself as Besca. So Quinn let that eye loll half-closed as she watched Besca, and her voice, so incredibly soft, spoke to Quinn. Told her what was going on. Told her why it was going on. Offered her apple juice and said it would make it better, so even though she didn't want to put anything on her stomach again ever, Quinn leaned forward slightly and sucked some juice through the straw. Just a few sips before she leaned back again.

Then the other thing Besca has said. Quinn looked distrustfully at the little cup on her nightstand. It had been made fairly obvious after Quinn had discovered what her parents did to her that she now looked very fearfully at any medicine.

But...

But Besca was giving it to her, right? She trusted Besca.

So, feebly, she reached out a hand for the brilliant red stuff. She looked at it again, eyeing it suspiciously.

Then she tilted back her head and dribbled it into her mouth.

The instant it touched her tongue she gagged on the taste, nearly choked, and spat back up most of it. She only swallowed about a third of it in the end, the rest ending up on either her own face or on the covers piled on her as she coughed.

When she spoke, weak, humiliated tears starting to bead already in her eye, her voice was thin, hoarse, and reedy; barely even there.

"[color=ffe63d]I'm...I'm sorry...[/color]"