"...Obie was my dad's best friend, all the time I was growing up. He was - I loved him. But... he had this weird crush on my dad, like, he loved him but he kind of hated him, you know? And - I don't even remember what he told the press, but what happened is Dad heard about Evaras and killed himself and Obie somehow got himself on top of all our money and - I thought Mom had booked it for the Rim but I think Obie might've - and he - I was - I was all the Stark he had left and he wanted me to be my dad and I was thirteen and I - I could do it, I'm all the Stark he needed - he wouldn't hardly let me leave the house because you're not supposed to make thirteen-year-olds design warships, and. And there was. Other stuff. When I didn't want to design his warships anymore."

Hugs. So much hugs.

"And then I ran away to the Rim to look for Mom and then I found Serenity instead and then—"

Deep breath.

"...he was, he just, showed up, he doesn't even live here he lives on Rubicon I don't know how he found me he must have had a flag on the crew rosters of incoming ships who fucking does that - he cornered me in the engine room - Erika heard - and she came in and pulled him off me and he was being all polite and awful like he does and she said she recognized his name and then she broke his ribs and then he said he bet I haven't told them I'm a Stark and she killed him and, and, and, fucked if I know why she didn't kill me too," and then she bursts into tears.

Sigh. Hugs.

"Erika loves you," she says gently. "And from what I've been able to tell she's loyal to an almost pathological degree. It's...possible that she just didn't believe him, but I don't at all think that's necessary."

"I built the damn ships," she sobs. "He put a problem in front of me and I fucking solved it. I'm a Stark, it's my fault, they're my fault, every ship out there with my work in it, why shouldn't she kill me," incoherent weeping.

"There is a huge difference between an adult doing something because they chose to, and a teenager doing something because someone who has power like that over them and has demonstrated the willingness to use it harmfully told them to."

Crying. Clinging and crying.

Hugs and comforting hair-stroking.

And, eventually, a knock.

"Do you feel up to dealing with that?" Bea asks quietly.

Sniffle. "Dunno. Depends who."

"Who is it?" she calls loud enough to be heard through the door.

"Sargon."

"Okay," she murmurs.

"You can come in!" she calls.

He comes in.

"Hey," he says to Tina, staying well back.

She is much less scared of him than she was last time she saw him, but still not zero scared.

"Hi."

"Sargon, back me up here, isn't it the case that if a teenager does something that someone they have more than reason to be scared of tells them to it's ridiculous to treat them as being as morally culpable for it as if they'd been an adult doing it out of free choice."

"I'm not exactly the guy to talk to about moral philosophy," he says wryly. "Tina, are you freaking out about the Stark thing? Because I'm sure not going to give you any shit about it."

"I'm..."

Sniffle. Sigh.

"...do I need to explain Obie to you, or...?"

"I think I've got the idea."

"...yeah."

She looks over at him.

"...sorry."

Shrug.

Hug. "You're going to be okay."

Snuggle.

"I built the damn ships," she mumbles.