[ Quentin's hand slides over his assuringly, not softness in his eyes while he assures: ] I'm fine. I was lucky. People protected me. 

But I can't sit back and watch people stroll into the same situation when my friends-- [ Still sharp, his eyes well up quick. Lips pursed, he ducks his head and pulls his hand back after a fierce squeeze. ] I dunno how much I can stop, but. I have to say something.