Rebecca sat on the first floor lobby, out of view of the front door, with her face in her hands. They still had however long it took Third Squad to clear the building across the street before anything else would happen. Her stuff was on and under the little coffee table between two armchairs across the lobby from the communal mailboxes, the other chair occupied by Sam. Christine had nudged Patrick away, maybe to ostensibly give them some space, but she could swear she could hear an occasional bit of noise that made her suspect they were taking the opportunity to make out in the laundry room around the corner. Like bunnies, those two were.

She sighed and lifted her head, unsurprised to see Sam watching her patiently, greeting her with a gentle tone.

"Hi cutie."

Rebecca smiled wanly. "Hey, babe."

"So... that seemed like more than just being protective up there, and you seem pretty shaken up afterwards. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You know, I was thinking about today for a while, trying to prep myself for it. But apparently that was all pointless, because it's just full of surprises." Sam nodded, and waited for her to continue. "I came here ready to deal with some bittersweet recollections of good, normal times and the little bit of hurt they would stir up. But all that just now... fuck." She pulled her right glove off and ran her hand over her face again. "Poking through the remainders of people's lives... that I knew at least a little bit... that was creepy."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I get that. It can be..."

Rebecca cut her off gently with a little hand wave. "That was handleable though. That's not what got me."

"Oh. Okay, sorry. Go on."

"It's okay." Rebecca smiled at Sam to reassure her. "So that stuff just added a little bit of baggage to the collection, maybe a carry-on. But some of the things she said right when we went in, and then the way I was in the next room and heard things go down..."

"Oh, shit." Sam knew some of the details that day, pieced together a bit at a time from scattered gentle conversations, enough to catch and connect the significance of that last bit.

"Yeah." Rebecca hung her head for a moment, then continued. "So there was that, which just kicked all my existing baggage wide open. The similarities really scared me. But then, when I realized how bad the fear aggression it drove me to was... god. Thank you for stopping me, Sam."

Sam just reached over and put a hand on Rebecca's leg, above her kneepad and waited.

Rebecca smiled, but was still looking down at her feet, maybe a little ashamed. "Are we okay? We had that talk last year... about how you were worried about how you'd react to me killing someone in a gunfight."

"And then we were in one, and I seem to recall we kinda saved each other's asses."

"Yeah, and now I almost shot that unarmed dumbshit right in front of you just because I was all triggered. Pun not intended. And you said we might be..."

"Do you know what that makes you?" Sam waited for Rebecca to look up questioningly. "A lovely, feeling, vulnerable human who didn't kill that dumbshit in cold blood."

"Or hot blood as the case may be. But... god. I was almost as bad as..." Rebecca paused to wipe a tear away. "... the guy who killed Jaime."

"Oh, damn." Sam sat back slightly, taking the weight of that thought in. "So that's why you were extra shaken up afterwards."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Shit. Okay."

"I wouldn't be surprised if I have nightmares about it. Standing over Monica with a gun as she's holding Alan in her lap, in that fucking kitchen."

"Stop picturing that. Now. If you do have nightmares, I'll be right there when you wake up." Sam rose... (heh. Rose. Like Samantha Rose... Rebecca's mind could still divert for a good pun) ... enough to kneel in front of Rebecca, lightly hooking her hands behind Rebecca's neck. "I love you, sweetheart. You're a good person. And I promise I will do my utter damndest to stick around with you and for you."

Rebecca leaned forward to bump her forehead against Sam's and rub the tips of their noses together. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were proposing."

Sam chuckled heartily, almost menacingly. "And if I were?"

"I'd be trying to find a dress store and a seamstress that was still breathing."

"And a baker?"

"Of course. But you don't think Allie could manage a cake?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe she could practice on one for Pat and Chrissie."

Rebecca couldn't help a genuine little laugh and lifted her head upright again. "Oh, Rosie. How do you always know how to make me feel better?"

Sam shrugged again, but more thoughtfully this time, and shook her head. "I dunno. I listen, I pay attention, I remember. If that doesn't explain it, I guess maybe I'm just awesome."

"So very much so." Rebecca leaned forward to wrap her arms around Sam's armor and hug her as best she could.

"Mmm." Sam slid her hands down around Rebecca's upper arms, rested her cheek on her shoulder, and closed her eyes. They held each other for a few minutes, until Sam's knees started to tire and she retreated to the chair with a contrite apology. Still, Rebecca felt better enough to poke around in the box while they waited, showing some of the items to Sam, telling her anecdotes about them.

That kept her mind off things until an unfamiliar voice identified itself as Victor Three Three over the radio and reported the building across the road was clear. It didn't take Ronnie long to order most of the vehicles up from the park while Golf Zero and One remained at their intersection to wait for Cat, her crew, and the hopefully useful truck they'd corralled.

Rebecca rose and sidled closer to the entrance to watch the street, up against the wall behind a pillar. Sam was next to her, holding her hand as their SMGs rested across their chests. They'd have to use the radio in the Humvee to contact Cat - their portable units could use the vehicles as long range repeaters, but they weren't configured to do that with the civilian channels her roving band of nomads would be listening on.

Patrick and Christine appeared from the back hallway shortly, and Chrissie gave Rebecca an encouraging smile when she noticed she seemed to be feeling better. Ever the gentleman, Pat offered to help carry Rebecca's stuff — she wasn't quite ready to be separated from some of the mementos in the box again, so she compromised on letting him sling two of the three book bags over his shoulder while she did the same with the third and lifted the box, leaving Christine and Sam free to watch over them and open the door when the trucks started creaking to a halt outside. Adams had spotted them, and pulled up just in front the building so they didn't have to walk far.

He looked back over his shoulder as they opened the tailgate and nodded affably when he saw them loading Rebecca's belongings. "Maybe that'll be a good sign for the rest of this outing!"

Rebecca decided not to get into what happened upstairs... fortunately, Sam answered with a quick "Fingers crossed!"

Perhaps she was trying to save her from social exertion — whether she intended to or not, Rebecca appreciated it and rested her fingertips on Sam's forearm affectionately while closing the cargo lid with her other hand. That got an affectionate smile, and Rebecca's attention focused on Sam's mouth again. There was still a small visible bruise and a little swelling, but the blood had stopped welling from from the small split on her lip. Sam caught her studying and kicked her foot. "Stoppit. I'm fine!"

"Ugh, I'm just looking now that there's enough light! Jeez."

"Okay, fair." Sam glanced away from her. "Where do you think Ronnie is?"

Rebecca looked around too. "She'll probably head down here after making sure the perimeter in the woods is to good enough for her."

"God help them if it's not. It's interesting, seeing this side of her. I mean, she was definitely a good leader for us and the small teams back at Broadway, or helping us shape up the settlement when we moved over, but actual command..."

"Yeah, like... not just knocking heads, but actual management." Rebecca turned to rest her weight against the truck. "I wonder if that's why she never went to OCS..."

"OC-what?"

"Officer Candidate School, I think... or whatever the Marine version of it is... was. You know, those jokes about sergeants yelling at people not to call them 'sir', because they work for a living."

"Ah." Sam put her elbows on the end of the sloped "trunk" and her chin in her hands. Even just in casual conversation, Rebecca noted how they were subconsciously watching each other's back. "I guess that makes sense, my brother never wanted to get promoted into management out west, just wanted to be left alone to code stuff in peace."

Sam still only mentioned her brother periodically... Rebecca usually let her set the pace on that since there'd been no way to contact him. Just like her mom, and Sam's parents... nobody really knew what happened to so many people in their old lives. Hoping for the best and fearing the worst led to a lot of not being sure if they really wanted to find out or not. "STEM runs in the family, huh?"

"Eh, at least with him and me. We were kinda the nerdiest out of all the cousins and prior generation. Guess we were just both the left-brained kids of the clan."

Rebecca looked over at the big cargo truck and saw Epstein talking to a couple of other soldiers, then turned her head halfway back towards Sam while still keeping an eye on their surroundings. "You know that theory grew to be regarded as kinda dated, right?"

"Oh, shut up. You were studying psych, not to be a neurosurgeon."

"Hey, it wasn't all just software. We had to understand the hardware the OS was running on too."

"Are you trying to talk nerdy to me because you're stereotyping me? Or just showing off?"

"Look, I knew enough to turn things off and on again or figure out if they had a 'safe boot' mode or something before turning to Google, okay?" It was nice to get a little of their usual banter in, it felt like taking the opportunity for a little "normal" while they could. Story of their lives lately, Rebecca supposed.

Sam gave her a coy look and her tone turned sultry for a moment. "Oh, sugar. I never said either of those was a bad thing." She grinned gleefully at the hint of color that brought to Rebecca's cheeks.

Rebecca shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

"You like it." Sam's grin reached her eyes with a twinkle too.

"Yeahhhh." Rebecca sighed. "Yeah I do. What's wrong with me." (She stuck her tongue out at Christine and Patrick, where they laughed at the latest episode of the Sam & Rebecca show from the curb.)

"I dunno. You're the psychologist. Oh look, there's Ronnie!"

That was totally cheating to get the last word in, but Rebecca admitted to herself that the flirting had improved her mood, probably just like Sam had meant it to. Incorrigible.