17 years prior

Quinn was a precocious baby, and a nightmare for her mother.

It was all Moira could do to keep her daughter from climbing atop every surface in their dwelling, going way beyond the usual baby-proofing to more unconventional methods. Cabinet doors were locked tight, of course, and she tried to make sure there was never anything tall enough for Quinn to use as a stepstool to higher places. Still, her baby persisted, and it wasn't uncommon for Moira to walk into a room and find that her daughter had precariously stacked her letter blocks to aid in ascending to the kitchen counter.

It was hard enough to get her child to go to sleep, but after a few months of frustrating bedtimes she realized that all it took was some music played from the Ark's archives on her tablet.

The times when Marcus wasn't overwhelmed with work were the happiest for Quinn, it seemed, and Moira loved to look over at her husband cradling the infant in his arms, her gentle coo'ing and fists haphazardly flying.

Residing in Alpha station was unfortunately more seclusive, and Moira eagerly drummed up playdates with the Griffins' daughter and the Millers' son. Abby had always been supportive, even when Moira left Medical to raise her child.

Quinn seemed to take everything head-on, even at a young age. After she had learned to read it wasn't long before Moira's tablet went missing more often than not, the last things accessed children's books and music.

She took a liking to Vera immediately, and it was no wonder why. Marcus' mother was such a gentle, inviting soul, and she took to helping care for the baby like CPR and 100 beats-per-minute. After a year both women had come to realize Quinn's fascination with the Eden Tree, pudgy hands gently wandering over the bark and soil, soft and reverent despite her age. Vera never came into their home without it after that.

Moira had often told Quinn bedtime stories, but it was always Vera's religion-fueled tales of Earth that really kept her daughter's interest. It was a happy and peaceful time for the Kane family, and Moira was grateful that her daughter was growing up surrounded by love, even if Marcus' job was demanding and it put a strain on their relationship with the working class.

It almost made her forget how cruel and cold life could be. Almost.

Six years pass by in a blur, and Quinn curled up in her chair towards the back of the room, desperately hoping that her teacher wouldn't notice her barely paying attention to the lesson. Math was stupid, anyway. It barely made sense to her and she wasn't good at it. Why did she have to learn this at all?

Instead her brain was filled with useless information; knowledge read out of books in the archives, music that never really stopped lingering no matter how much she tried to repress it. An overwhelming amount of information about seed growth. She wanted more lessons on rudimentary tracking, or survival skills. At least those kept her attention for longer than five minutes.

As she looked up from her desk she noticed her teacher finally calling for lunchtime, and she hastily dove for her bag, eager for whatever her mom had packed for the day.

She really hoped it was peanut butter and jelly; her mom always cut the crusts off for her. Crusts were as stupid as math.

As she took out the jumbled contents in her knapsack Quinn realized that in her rush to leave in the morning she had completely forgotten to grab the bag her mom proffered to her, and a sinking feeling of disappointment settled in her stomach.

Sitting back in her chair she let her backpack fall to the floor, trying not to look around too sadly at the kids near her unpacking their meals. Cradling a cheek in the palm of her hand she sighed softly before pulling up what she had been reading earlier, trying to distract the gnawing hunger with the structures of seaweed.

"You don't have a lunch?"

She looked up at the voice close to her and met a pair of dark eyes, thick black hair still styled perfectly. His polo was bright green.

"I'm okay," She replied, trying not to meet the stranger's eyes. "I forgot it at home. I'm not hungry-"

An incredibly loud rumble decided to make itself known from her stomach, and Quinn bit her lip, clutching an arm around the traitorous organ.

"Here."

Before she knew what was happening something bright and orange was pushed into her line of vision, and she stared in shock at it for a moment before glancing at the boy.

"You have carrots?"

A small smile spread on his lips, and he fidgeted nervously under her incredulous gaze.

"My mom and dad grow food for the Ark. They're really good..."

Quinn glanced once more between the boy and the food in his hand, and she hesitantly took it. The moment she bit into it she felt happier than she had all day.

"It's the same color as your hair."

Both heads turned towards the newcomer, and Quinn found herself staring at a boy with the largest eyes she'd ever seen, his matching brown hair an absolute mess on his head. A mop looked better than his hair. She took another bite on the carrot stick nervously, trying to find an excuse not to say anything. Nobody talked to her unless they had to, really. Clarke did, and Nathan did, but she never saw them much.

"My name's Jasper, and this is Monty," The brunette continued, evidently not perturbed by Quinn's lack of response. "He's my best friend. Do you have a best friend?"

The question had never really been brought up. She saw Clarke more than anybody else, but that was when her mom and dad and Clarke's mom and dad wanted to get together. Well, when dad wasn't working. Most of the time the two just doodled. Clarke's drawings were always way better than hers.

"No," Quinn replied quietly, looking away from the two. It felt like a bad thing, to admit she didn't have a best friend. She should, right?

"That's okay," Jasper continued, bringing a neighboring chair over to her desk. "We can be your best friends. Monty already gave you some food, so you're okay."

It seemed like a simple enough idea, and Quinn looked at the carrot stick in her hands before staring back up at the two boys, her mouth slightly agape.

"There's..." Monty began uncomfortably, pointing a finger to his own tooth. "Uh...carrot?"

Oh no! She had just embarrassed herself in front of her new best friends. Hastily Quinn turned away, trying to feel where the vegetable bit was lodged in her teeth, and she turned back to face the boys, exposing her incisors.

"Is it gone?"

Jasper stifled a laugh with his hand before shaking his head, and Quinn felt heat rush to her face. Once again she turned away, trying to get the bit out of her mouth. It took a minute, but she finally found it, and when she turned to the two boys again she was half-worried they'd already have returned back to their desks.

They were still sitting there as she once again let an exaggerated smile cross her face, and this time Jasper sent her a thumbs-up.

"Carrots are dumb," He said, putting a portion of his own lunch in front of her. Beside him Monty let out a breath, as if his friend had uttered a swear. His brows furrowed, a stubborn set to his mouth as he responded.

"Carrots are not dumb; they're good for your eyes. Dad says they have vitamin A in them. Actually, he said it's beta carotene and then your body turns it into vitamin A..."

A small silence ensued after his words and both boys looked awkwardly to the ginger in front of them. Quinn let out a chuckle, covering her mouth so as not to spill any food from it.

"Carrots are a root," She offered, mouth full, and immediately both eyes in front of her lit up.

"Yeah, they are."

"So are potatoes!"

Excitement racing through her veins Quinn pulled up what she had been reading on her tablet, turning it to show the other two.

"Did you know seaweed also has vitamin A?" Instantly she bit her lip before continuing, using her index finger to hover over certain words in a paragraph. "Beta carotene. It also has vitamin C, though."

Monty didn't respond, and Quinn immediately felt like she had made some dumb mistake, but Jasper's excited voice interrupted her worries.

"Go-Sci has a seaweed farm!"

"No way!"

It was the best lunchtime she'd ever had. Mostly Quinn was sitting in her seat hating math and counting the minutes until the lesson was over, but now she felt like suffering through multiplication tables would be worth it if she got to sit with her new best friends every lesson.

Monty was quiet, only chiming in when the situation called for it, his responses seemingly carefully planned out. Jasper loved to talk, and she appreciated that. She never knew what to say in front of people, and Quinn had a nagging worry she would say the wrong thing in front of her new friends, and then they'd go back to ignoring her like the rest of the class did.

She went back home that night hungrier than normal, but despite the meager food she had eaten during the day she felt more full than any time before, and when she opened the pneumatic door to her home she immediately captured her mom's leg in a hug.

"Mom! I made friends today! Their names are Monty and Jasper, and Monty's family grows all the food for the Ark, and they both like plants!"

Instantly her mother's face went from startled to warm, and she crouched down to her daughter's level, her perfect, porcelain teeth exposed as she gave Quinn a smile.

"I'm so happy, sweetheart. They sound like nice boys. Maybe we should have them around for dinner? And their parents?"

"Yes! Yes! Pleaaase!" Quinn called, dancing around the kitchen like a maniac, her feet making disjointed thumps with each drop of her foot.

It wasn't long before Monty and Jasper were regulars of the Kane household; Monty's parents too overworked with their jobs and Jasper's never seemingly around. Her mom took them under their wing like they were her own, and most days were spent going over plant structures and benefits while instrumental music played in the background. Every time Monty would try and bring up anything remotely mathematical or engineering-based Quinn tried to tune it out, but she reluctantly admitted that when Monty explained it everything made way more sense than what the teachers said. He was way too good with technology.

That being said, she still didn't like it.

The bubble of warmth Quinn surrounded herself with almost kept her from realizing how cold and cruel life could be.

Almost.

Ten years later

Somehow, Harper's parties were always bustling with people.

Quinn would never understand it, because for all she knew Harper was always on the edge of the popular kids; mingling with them occasionally, on good terms, but never one in the inner-circle. She fiddled with an errant curl of copper hair, the cup clutched in her hands way tighter than it needed to be, but with the hum of the alcohol infecting her she barely felt the resistance from the container. Leave it to Monty and Jasper to whip up moonshine way stronger than it needed to be. She hadn't eaten much earlier, either. What use was alcohol if it didn't fulfill its purpose; to numb and inhibit? And damn if her boys' moonshine didn't do just that.

With a start she realized that she was alone at the table doling out liquor, and she cast her eyes around the room, trying to find a familiar face. She briefly wondered how she got saddled with this job; Nathan gave the excuse of using the restroom like half an hour ago.

Much to her chagrin the pair of eyes she met were not ones she wanted contact with.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Kane's daughter."

She turned away from John Murphy's patronizing gaze, leaning back against the wall near her. She could handle a fight; that didn't mean she wanted it. And this asshole seemed like he was looking for one.

"Murphy," She curtly addressed, trying to be subtle in the way she turned her body away from him.

Get the hint, jackass.

"Daddy let you out after dark?" He teased, arms crossed, and Quinn really wanted to smash an elbow into his nose.

"My dad doesn't dictate what I do, and our relationship is no concern of yours," She responded, brows raising.

Murphy's own brows flicked upwards for a moment before giving her a sadistic grin, and he pushed closer into the ginger's space.

"Well, I can't imagine daddy dearest would be too happy to hear you were here."

It took barely a moment for Quinn to take action, grappling Murphy as she twisted one arm uncomfortably behind his back, the other keeping his wrist in check.

"Shut your mouth and I won't crush every bone in your right arm," She hissed, hesitating before pushing him away from her. As much as she hated to admit it the lessons her dad taught her were useful. There was no way he could have predicted she'd use it in situations like this, though.

Quinn took a long sip of the moonshine in her cup, wincing as the fire descended her throat.

It tasted like ass, but at least it did its job.

Murphy let out a scoff as he retreated back into the crowd, glaring at the ginger, and Quinn once again leaned comfortably against the wall behind her.

It was unlike Monty and Jasper to leave her alone for so long; usually they just talked with the members of Farm Station as they descended into drunkenness. There had been way too many memories of debates on superior plant structures as far as Quinn could remember. She usually tuned out when interface hacking methods were brought up.

Jasper was fine, she consoled herself. He was probably trying to flirt with whoever, and Monty was trailing behind him, trying to make sure he didn't make a fool out of himself, as he had a tendency to. They were fine.

As she took in the sheer amount of others mingling in the crowds among her, Quinn felt loneliness settle in her heart, and she pushed it down as quickly as it had come. At least she was doing something to help in the festivities.

"Quinn! Quinn Kane are you here?"

Cutting through the buzz Quinn moved towards the familiar, panicked voice without a second thought. As she wove her way through the crowd she saw Clarke Griffin desperately calling for her, a ring of drunk adolescents around her, and she saw the fear in the girl's bright eyes. Once again unease coiled itself around her limbs, and Quinn tried to shake it off with movement as she hastened towards the blonde's side.

"What are you doing here?" She asked breathlessly. Clarke never attended any parties, never showed her face at this sort of thing. As happy as she was to see her here it begged the question.

"Quinn," Clarke breathed, gripping the girl's hands in her own. "You need to come with me, please."

As Clarke clutched her wrist and steered her towards the room's doors she pulled back.

"Why? What's going on?"

Clarke hesitated, her eyes roving around the room before she became satisfied with what she saw. Party interruptions were never a big deal, and most of the adolescents around them had their own shit to deal with. Nobody was listening to them.

"Your mom is in Medical; she fell earlier while heading to visit your dad at work. She's...she's not doing well."

Sobriety hit her like a ton of bricks, and Quinn tossed the cup aside without so much as a second thought, taking Clarke's hand in her own. She was reminded of how much they had done that when they were kids; Clarke always leading her to her own bathroom, or back to her home when they had wandered off.

The melancholy and silent walk between the space structures was infuriating, and Quinn felt a swell of emotions rage inside of her.

What business did she have going to a party while her mother took a fall and was transported to Medical?

How was she supposed to know?

She had heard the cough, had waved away the thoughts after her mom had said she was feeling better.

Of course she would say she was feeling better; she was the most selfless person she knew next to her grandmother.

The cough had gone on way longer than it should have.

As Quinn stepped into the room everything escaped her as she took in the sight of her mom on the bed, an IV inserted in her arm, sweat glistening on her pale skin. The lights around her were twinkling as they showcased displays from the technology.

Slowly, hesitantly, she took small steps forward, clutching Clarke's hand so tight she was sure it must've hurt. Still, the blonde said nothing.

"Mom?" She whispered, sitting in the rickety chair next to the medical bed, and immediately a pair of green eyes swirled to meet hers, the whites around the irises red and angry.

"Quinn, honey, no. You can't be here."

"Like hell I can't," Quinn replied, her voice breaking despite the bravado she tried to elicit. "You try telling me you're fine when you're sitting in a Medical bed. God, I knew it."

Without even asking for it Quinn's anger called to the surface, and she fisted her copper locks in her hands, tugging harshly.

"You've been losing weight. You sleep so much longer now. Your cough sounds miserable. What is it?" She looked up, meeting with her mother's gaze, and she tried to put everything she felt into one syllable. "Please."

Her mom took in a sharp breath before staring at the ceiling. Five seconds, that's all it took for her to collect herself before she turned towards Quinn, her matching copper hair an absolute mess around her crown. Despite the pause she was still somewhat tense.

"Pneumonia," She breathed. "I've been hiding it for a while; I didn't want to worry you. I'm sorry."

Tears fell unbidden from Quinn's eyes, and she briefly registered Clarke's warm hand gripping her shoulder tightly. Instantly she turned towards her, desperation in her eyes.

"Pneumonia can manifest itself as a secondary condition, a symptom. You've told me so before. There's something else, please, Clarke."

Clarke stood uncertain, between mother and daughter, and it looked like she wanted nothing more than to escape the grief-encapsulating the room. Quinn couldn't blame her; she herself had never been well-adept at comforting others, or even doing something as simple as making eye contact. This entire situation was too much, and even with the alcohol in her system Quinn felt an important question rise to the surface, withdrawing her fingers from her copper strands.

"Tell me," She commanded, clutching onto the cold steel of her bedside chair, and she met Clarke's gaze. There was pity there, and that was all it took for her to suck in a breath and withdraw in herself. There was no verbal answer, but whatever was on Clarke's mind was grave.

"Does Marcus know?"

Breath above a whisper, Moira reached for her daughter's hand.

"Don't...He's your father."

"What's a father if he's not here?" She called desperately. "Mom, I was half-drunk, and I'm still here. What excuse does dad have? Protecting his people? His people are in this room."

The hum of the machines were all that filled the silence, and Quinn tried not to focus on the heart monitor's escalated beeps in lieu of her mother sitting up, a grimace on her face. The pained expression was too much to look at, and so instead she tried to focus on other features of her face; the high cheekbones, the freckles dotting across her nose much like Quinn's own.

The somewhat rounded point to her chin, the stubborn set to her jaw. The pale skin that was now covered in a sheen of sweat.

The pneumatic hiss of the doors caused every pair of eyes to turn towards it, and Quinn swallowed hard as not only her father but Abby Griffin marched in, her dad's eyes wide and frantic as he rushed to her mom's beside.

"Moira," He breathed desperately, one hand pressing against her cheek as the other gripped her hand. "I got here as fast as I could, I was-"

"We know," Quinn cut in coldly, glaring at him through the tears welling up in her vision.

Marcus sighed quietly. "Don't, Quinn. Not right now."

Abby gently grabbed Clarke's shoulder, walking the blonde to the door, and before she passed through it Quinn called out.

"Clarke? Thank you." Her voice broke and she hated it.

Clarke nodded in response before exiting the room, and Abby stepped towards the family, a hesitant look on her face.

"Abby, please," Marcus whispered, and Quinn realized she had never seen her dad look so scared in all her life.

He was always strong and stoic, the one doling out punishments when she broke the rules her parents set. Sometimes she saw him patrolling the ship, head held high with perfectly straight posture.

It took a moment for Abby to oblige, and she only did so when Moira gave a minute nod. She could barely keep her eyes on Marcus or Quinn, mainly focusing on the base of the bed her patient was lying in.

"She has pneumonia, and if it was just that she'd be resting in bed back at Alpha by now." Her barely-visible adam's apple bobbed as she swallowed. "Given her symptoms and how she's been feeling in the last six months...it's lung cancer."

Quinn felt her world collapse around her, and she choked as she pressed a hand to her mouth. Bile threatened to ride up, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"How? The air circulating is filtered and recycled, and she worked here in Medical, with you, away from anything toxic," She furiously rebuked; eyes darting wildly between Marcus and Abby, words slightly muffled. "It's-"

"Oh, sweet pea," Her mother said softly, and Quinn's mouth immediately snapped closed. "I was young once, I had my fair share of parties. Many more than you know."

Abby cleared her throat. "The likelihood for lung cancer increases dramatically if you've smoked any substance, even if you don't anymore. It changes the cells in the body, and they start multiplying and building up. It's also more likely if there's family history of it."

"But you're sure?" Quinn asked, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she took her mother's free hand. "You're sure?"

Abby replied with a small, slow nod before crouching down in front of the girl. She pressed a warm hand against Quinn's knee, and she saw moisture welling up in Abby's own eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn."

There was a minute squeeze of comfort before Abby stood back up to full height once more, Quinn turned back around to face her parents, feeling like she was watching from a thousand feet away. Her body felt numb and foreign to her.

"Quinn," Her father said gently, trying to gain her attention, but the ginger simply shook her head before standing from her seat.

"I...I need to get some air."

The irony of her words barely registered. With that she walked out the doors to Medical, pressing her back against the metal of the hallway, thankful the corridor was blissfully empty.

It wasn't fair; her mom had never done anything to anyone, she was always the sweetest person in a room, always looking out for everyone else. She wanted to go back to when she was at Harper's party, only worrying about assholes like Murphy and where her best friends were. She wanted to go back to monotonous lessons in school. She wanted to go back to when she was a kid and things were so simple.

Breathing disjointed and uneven, Quinn slid down the wall as wracking sobs shuddered throughout her whole body. Her life was falling apart, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Quinn's apprenticeship in Farm was put on hold, and most of her days consisted of really, really boring time spent in Medical at her mother's bedside.

Well, only boring because of the general somber tone of the whole section and the lack of much stimuli.

Truth be told, she didn't want to be in the room, every cell in her body willing her to leave as she passed through the doorway. It was just a constant reminder of what was actually happening, that this was her reality now. Most of the time Moira and her talked about life; swapping stories that were important to them. To her mom it was meeting Marcus, and Quinn's birth. To Quinn herself it was meeting Jasper and Monty, and Hannah, Monty's mom, taking her on as an apprentice. When her mother fell asleep from the effect of the morphine Quinn played songs from the tablet in her hands, humming and occasionally singing along as she read through texts. She hadn't known Moira could hear it until one night when the matriarch opened a single eye and gave her a breathtakingly warm grin, interrupting Quinn mid-song.

Monty and Jasper didn't take long to notice her absence, appearing only a day after Quinn had sent a message and looking more distraught than she had ever seen. She allowed them into the room, stepping back as the boys slowly made steps towards where her mother was sleeping peacefully in bed, the soft wheezing of her breath the only organic sound in the room.

She bit her lip as the two took in the sight before them, Monty letting out a shocked breath and Jasper's own breathing becoming quicker as he fidgeted.

"You said it was cancer?" Monty whispered, and Quinn nodded, sighing heavily.

"Abby said that with her symptoms as they are it's pretty advanced, and she also said mom probably had some idea of what was happening, so she kept it to herself. With the technology we have on the Ark there's...there's, uh, nothing they can do, so..."

As the tears spilled down her cheeks once more her best friends quickly stepped over, Monty wrapping his arms around the girl as Jasper rubbed her back. She tried to ignore the way Monty smelled like sage, earthy and grounding.

Quinn shook her head, trying to rid herself of the despair riding up inside. Now was not the time for this.

"Listen, I need your guys' help," She began, making sure that there was nobody else within earshot. "With how morphine is rationed for each patient, it's going to be pretty rough u-until..." She cleared her throat. "Abby can't give her more without getting floated for it, so I need something to help with the pain."

"Of course," Jasper answered immediately, looking pointedly over at Monty. "Anything we can do to help."

The darker-haired boy hesitated, only speaking after Jasper nudged him in the ribs.

"She can't smoke it, what are you going to do?"

"Leave that to me. I know I'm asking a lot, and I'm sorry. I just...I need to help her."

She knew what she was asking and how serious things could be for all three of them if they were caught, but this was something she needed to do. The idea of her mother in pain until her last days was too agonizing of a thought, and she had the means to help. She just had to make sure she was discrete about the whole thing. Worse came to worse, then she'd take the entirety of the fall. Going back to Farm by herself simply to jack some weed was way too obvious, and it was hard enough to pull herself away from her mother's bed for simple needs like showering and food. Stealing from the med supplies was too risky; they were inventoried often and she practically lived in Medical.

"Okay," Monty finally said, nodding resolutely to himself. "Whatever we can do."

As the eyes of both boys looked over towards Moira it was evident in their expressions how deeply they felt about the whole situation; the Kane residence was a home away from home, where they all convened more often than not. Quinn's mom was like a second mom to the two of them.

Unbidden memories surfaced before Quinn could help it, and she bit her lip. Tightly-knit birthday parties for the three of them, Moira helping with studies, Moira hearing Quinn sing on more than one occasion and joining in, Monty and Jasper giving their own tone-deaf renditions.

"Thank you," Quinn choked, gripping her friends by their shoulders. "I can't do this alone and honestly, I don't know what I would do without you both."

Immediately Jasper stepped forward, bringing the ginger into his gangly arms for a hug.

"Hey, you're family, Quinn. We'll always be here for you."

Monty voiced the affirmative, and Quinn bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She'd get through this, somehow.

The tea she had made turned out to be incredibly potent, usually giving her mother much-needed rest not long after drinking it. The first time she had offered the travel mug to Moira, her mother took one sip before casting a knowing look in her direction, smiling softly before saying nothing and drinking more. There was a cast to her eyes; pride mingled with worry.

The gratefulness embed as well didn't need to be said aloud.

The only downside was that when brewed the smell permeated through Quinn's own home. Once poured into the sealed container it was fine, but she found herself memorizing her dad's schedule, knowing Marcus would probably know immediately, even if it was marginally covered up with some eucalyptus and mint herbs added in.

Quinn turned the circulation fans in her home to high before setting to mixing the weed with the usual rest, carefully closing up the tiny pouch before starting to heat some water. She reached an arm out for another steel mug, cursing loudly as the action sent the grinder Monty fashioned for her to the floor, its contents spilling out everywhere.

She had barely swept up most of the green granules before the quick procession of beeps sounded outside the front door, and as the telltale hiss of it opening reached her ears she felt panic well up in her chest.

Marcus wasn't supposed to be home for another two hours, what the hell was he doing back here now?

With shaky hands she tried to scoop up the rest of the weed, tucking the grinder out of the line of sight, and as Marcus' brown eyes met with her own she felt her stomach drop.

"Quinn," He began, looking around the kitchen area as he took a deep breath. "I thought we could visit your mother together..."

His words trailed off as he looked over the marijuana still splayed across the floor and on her hands, the water heating behind her, the telltale, distinctive skunk-like smell. The beat of silence that followed felt like a million years.

"Tell me you didn't," He whispered, brow knit.

"This is for mom," Quinn hissed, panic evident in her tone. "Dad, she needs pain relief, you heard Abby. Not being able to breathe is...This is for her."

"You're stealing from the Ark," Marcus replied, eyes squeezing shut as he took in the full gravity of the situation. "You're stealing from everyone else on this station."

She immediately stood up, ignoring the lightheadedness at being upright so quickly, and walked over to her father, standing an inch or two away from him.

"For good reason." She persisted. "Dad, you can't. They'll float me." Her tone was pleading, her heart racing in her chest.

It was an agonizing few seconds of silence before Marcus Kane brought a hand to his mouth, looking away from his daughter before shaking his head.

"Quinn, I'm the head of security and you committed a crime. I can't just let this go. Farm Station will notice, if they haven't already."

"Dad," Quinn begged, tears falling from her eyes. "You'd be sending your daughter to her death."

Her father said nothing, simply producing a pair of cuffs from the belt at his waist before pressing on the radio attached to his hip and calling for more members of the guard. It took less than ten minutes for them to meet at their home, and Quinn struggled from her restraints before glaring at her parent as he watched them take her away.

"It's not enough to lose just mom?! You want to sentence me to death, well fine! Fuck you!"

Her life was a goddamn mess, and as she met the inside of the sterile, plain cell in Skybox she wept.

"Tell me who helped you."

Quinn examined her nails, running her thumb along one jagged end, not meeting her father's matching gaze.

"Quinn."

She began humming, looking around the expanse of her cell. How long had she been in here anyway, two weeks? A month? She didn't know anymore. She used to count the proximity of stars she knew to her window above but she had stopped a few days ago. She really wasn't any good at astronomy.

"I've seen the camera footage of you in Medical; I know you didn't steal it yourself."

Quinn paused, fixing her father with a deadly glare.

"I acted alone."

A scoff came from Marcus' lips and he looked away in annoyance, his arms crossed

"You didn't, and you need to tell me who gave you the herbs."

Every muscle in Quinn's body went stiff, and she clenched her jaw before hissing her reply towards him.

"I. Acted. Alone."

"Fine," Marcus relented, heading back towards the door of her cell. "Don't tell me. But I will find out, mark my words."

As her father finally exited the room Quinn settled herself against the wall, staring up and into the vastness of space. It was kind of pretty, in a grim way. Very desolate, very cold. She supposed she should become intimately acquainted with it before she was blasted out into it. At least stars were a sight, even as gaseous and vague as they were.

She hadn't narc'd, and she was proud of that. Come hell or high water, Monty and Jasper would be safe. Even if her dad suspected them he couldn't arrest them without proof. She was comfortable with her death knowing it was for someone she loved.

Dying at the hand of her father, however, ignited rage unimaginable.