Rebecca saw why her mom wanted to use Walt's upstairs bedroom. It sat above almost the sum entirety of Laura's room, Rebecca & Sam's, and the nearby bathroom — all one vast open space with windows around all four sides. She'd remembered it was big, but hadn't been sure how much of that was her own skewed perceptions from when she was both younger and smaller, like with the tiny shower downstairs.

The same wood stove still sat in the corner, and the stained glass panels she'd been so enchanted by hung in the windows facing the front of the house. She'd have to come up during the day to see if they were truly as dazzling as she thought when she was younger.

Her mom had settled her on the floor, past the bed from the door. They both sat on a large braided spiral area rug while Sam had taken up post sitting on the steps just outside the door, armed with a good book and a furry pile of Sudoku. Laura seemed content to start with just small talk, asking more about Ronnie, still with a hint of apology underlying her tone.

Rebecca told her about some of the best gems of advice Ronnie impressed upon her along the way, about processing grief, honoring Jaime's memory by carrying on like he'd hope for, making good memories with Sam. She really wanted to make the point that Ronnie hadn't been out to turn her into some kind of murderbot.

It seemed she'd managed to get that across, based on the fluctuations in Laura's tone and her multiple comments to the effect of "oh, that's a good way to put it". Eventually, they both fell silent for a few moments and seemed to silently agree it was time to get on with the show... whatever it was.

Laura told her to close her eyes, then in a purposely soothing voice, bringing back memories of bedtime stories, talked Rebecca through pretty standard early steps for meditation. The usual paying attention to her breathing, mindfully relaxing muscles from one end of her to the other, hearing the sounds in the room. Those were pretty much just the crackling fire, quiet voices downstairs, and their breathing and shifting around a little as they got comfortable.

Rebecca struggled with the clearing her mind part. It was a double edged sword — all of the things swirling around from the week, good and bad, were persistently front-of-mind. Plus, there was her usual predisposition towards wandering thoughts. But, having dealt with that kind of thing so frequently for so long, she'd had a fair amount of practice at the whole "don't fight them, examine the feeling and then let it go" mantra.

Either her mother had really good timing, or was still able to read her well. Maybe eight breaths after she felt like she'd finally cleared out the busy front lobby of her brain, Laura spoke again.

"Rebecca, sweetheart. I want you to remember where you are right now. You're far away from trouble, in a familiar place that has good memories attached, surrounded by people that love you." She paused for several seconds. "Do you feel safe?"

Rebecca didn't rush to answer right away. She breathed several more times in the near-blackness behind her eyelids and studied her emotional state, her heartbeat, the quiet in her calves and forearms that always got tingly when her fight-or-flight instincts were in overdrive. Everything was at a good baseline. "Yes."

"Good. I want you to remember all of the sensations that entails, store that memory away. It's something you can use both to help you stay afloat when you're feeling overwhelmed, and as an anchor when you worry you might be lost. You can come back to it when you need to, and even when you're scared, you should remember that you will feel it again at some point. Even when things aren't okay, they will be someday, and that's what makes the tough times okay too."

Rebecca took several more breaths, and then nodded.

"Good, sweetheart. Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you think I want to keep you safe?"

"Yes."

"Would I let anything hurt you?"

Rebecca wanted to believe in her whole heartedly, but felt a tug of doubt. "Not if you could stop it. But I don't know that you can stop everything."

"True. But, do you think there is anything here in this room, in this house, that I couldn't stop?"

"I don't know, but I don't think so."

"Do you think I could stop Sam from hurting you?"

Rebecca's eyebrows twitched. She took a second to smooth them out and swallowed even though her mouth felt dry. She wasn't sure if she liked where this was going. "Yes."

"Do you think there's anything here that Sam and I together couldn't protect you from long enough for you to defend yourself?"

Okay, that wasn't so bad. "No."

"Is it okay if I invite her in?"

Rebecca nodded instinctively, feeling a little silly even though her mom could presumably see it just fine. "Yeah."

Laura told her to keep her eyes closed, and then raised her voice just enough to ask Sam to join them. Rebecca could tell Sue darted in too from the patter of little furry paws on the wooden floor, then the quiet thump as he jumped onto the mattress.

She kept her eyes closed as instructed, but tilted her head and turned it slightly towards where she heard Sam's careful footsteps padding around the end of the bed. "Hi Rosie."

"Hey, sugar."

"Rebecca, you mentioned one of the things a few days ago has been a hyper-awareness of Sam's position."

"Right."

"And, that one time you were able to use it as encouragement, a reminder she was with you while you were nervous."

She knows this, but she's making me say it. Okay. "Yes."

"You know where she is now, right? Does it feel the same?"

It was hard with Sam's feet unshod, only wrapped in cushy wool socks. But then she heard a faint click from floor height, and recognized the sound. Sam could occasionally "crack" either of her big toes just by flexing them against the floor or a shoe sole. Did she just give me a hint on purpose? That thought managed to replace the faint apprehensive tingle in her chest with a warm flush of appreciation.

"Sort of. It has my attention but it's not debilitating."

"And you still feel safe. From her, and because of her."

Rebecca heard a sigh escape Sam, probably involuntary, and shifted uncomfortably herself. Laura seemingly noticed both. "I'm sorry, girls. It's not pleasant to hear or think about the fact that one of you hurt the other. It happened, it was unfortunate. But, there's no blame and no reason to assume it would happen again."

Yeah, tell my subconscious that. Rebecca immediately regretted thinking that, worrying it would somehow manifest for Sam's impressive and inconvenient perception to pick up. Hopefully she had her eyes shut too? Laura didn't tell her to though... Fuck it, I'm going off script.

Still keeping her eyes closed, Rebecca hoped she was facing in the right direction. "I love you, Sam." She heard a louder intake of breath — oh good, I'm not talking to the wall. "Sorry, Mom. I wanted her to know."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to run your relationship, sweethearts." Laura added the pluralization on after a fraction-of-a-second's pause, like she'd realized the opportunity as she said it. "Don't worry, Rebecca. Based on the look on her face right now, she knows, so shush and focus on that feeling of not being threatened."

"Okay. Sorry." She heard another distinctive exhalation from Sam, and stuck a defiant tongue out in her direction in reply to the suppressed laughter. After a lingering smile, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind again with the exhale.

"Good. Now, where do you want her to sit? Next to you, across from you?"

"Between me and the stove so she's warm." She could imagine a couple of different familiar expressions her mother might be making now — touched, approving, amused but mildly exasperated. Well, sorry, but you asked. Oh look, I'm apologizing again.

There was some quiet rustling, and then Rebecca was embarrassed — maybe even a little ashamed — that she still jumped when Sam's fingertips brushed hers.

"Hey, Remy. It's me."

Rebecca squeezed her hand. "I know. Sorry, I was just caught off guard."

"She told me to."

A hint of sarcasm snuck into Laura's voice. "Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Sam. I was going to admit that myself."

One side of Rebecca's mouth drew back in a lopsided grin. "Technically, Mom, she just kinda pulled you under with her since it was your idea, which seems totally fair."

"Did you sass Ronnie this much?"

Sam was quicker to reply. "Only once she was exposed to certain bad— I mean, good influences."

"God help her, dealing with the two of you."

A chuckle escaped before Rebecca could entirely quash it. "The two of you will have something to bond over."

"Clearly. Now shush. Focus on that feeling of safety, while acknowledging that Sam touching you startled you." Rebecca obediently took another deep breath, moving her thumb back nd forth against Sam's knuckles. "Good. Are those sensations exclusive? Does one cancel the other out?"

"No. They... can distract from each other."

"But they can co-exist."

"Yeah."

"Which means you can be surprised by something, in this case Sam, and still be safe. I want you to think about that for a minute before you reply."

Rebecca nodded, and sat quietly, stopping her attempt to fight the sense of surprise. It faded well enough as sitting there holding Sam's hand became a new base state, a new normal.

"Good. If Sue jumped down from the bed next to you, would you still be safe?"

"Yeah."

"What if he knocked the something down?"

"As long as it wasn't a lit lamp or glass or something, then yeah."

"And if someone knocked a chair over or slammed a door downstairs, would you still be safe?"

Rebecca licked her lips. "It depends on what was happening. If it was just an accident or if there was a problem. Or what kind of accident it was, maybe someone's hurt."

"But those are just possibilities, something to check on, not guaranteed. It's just as possible everything could be fine. You and your friends are trained and prepared for a lot of scenarios, aren't you? There've been lots of times when you have been scared, hurt, and overcome them, right?"

"I guess."

"If I told you Sam was armed right now, with a knife or a gun, would that make you feel better or worse?"

Rebecca's throat tightened and she nervously worked her lips against each other again without realizing until it was already happening.

But, she felt a bit of grim, confident determination as well — the familiar resolve that came when training and fighting alongside the woman she loved. And, god dammit, trust!

She also noticed Sam's hand tense ever-so-slightly. Was that because she was afraid of Rebecca's answer, or because Laura hadn't warned her this was part of the plan?

"There's... a tug of war, but it evens out. The presence of a loaded weapon makes everybody around it a little less safe."

"Okay. I want you to go back to focusing on how you're safe now, how it feels, and tell yourself about how you can always return to that. Here, or at home with Sam and Ronnie and Rufus, even just within your own head in a quiet spot."

Rebecca tried to focus on all of the positive associations she had with her mother's voice, to tap into the trust they'd built up over almost a decade on their own. She didn't appreciate the trip Mom just took her on through unpleasant-possibility-ville a minute ago, but understood the mechanics of what she was trying. It took several deep breaths to recenter, and after a minute or so, she moved her right hand to join her left in holding Sam's.

She heard and felt Sam partially rise to scoot closer, then sit at her side. This time, Rebecca enjoyed the way her other senses seemed dialed up to compensate for her closed eyes. The warmth coming off of Sam just before their bare arms brushed where their sleeves were rolled up. The feel and smell of her hair, the way Sam nestled even closer when Rebecca let go with one hand to put an arm around her. She basked in all that for a bit before opening her eyes, blinking to get used to the light again.

"Hi, Rosie," Rebecca murmured into the top of Sam's head, who didn't say anything back, just shifted affectionately against her.

Laura smiled when Rebecca looked her way. "How're you feeling?"

"A little agitated but okay."

"Good. Probably a solid outcome, and a good place to stop. And start, I guess."

"Mmm." She just held Sam for a while and stared pensively at the floor for a while. Laura held out a hand towards Sue, and he jumped down from the bed to start ramming into it. Rebecca smiled in amusement. "He's never been subtle."

Laura shook her head. "Not a bone in his body, except when he's hunting."

"He can do that?" Rebecca was genuinely surprised.

"Well, you know how he is with toys. He's shit at anything flying, but if it's on the ground, he can stalk and pounce well enough. Cats usually seem to be one way or the other like that."

"Hulk smash." Rebecca felt Sam twitch with a small laugh against her, and watched her mother and Sue for a while. "Mom... one of the things Sam's taught me is the difference between asking if someone wants to do something, and asking them to do it." Laura looked at her with an expectant nod and waited until she spoke again.

"I'd really like it if you came back with us. I know you've been okay enough out here, but we have a home there, and everyone is trying to rebuild, make the whole city home again a little at a time."

Rebecca saw Laura nod. "I expected as much, and I've been trying to think through it. Of course I want to be with you, and before the last year, this place has never felt like 'home' for me, just somewhere we escaped to. Which, I suppose, is exactly what I did."

"But."

Laura nodded again. "But. I'm worried about leaving Walter, and imposing on you."

"We have plenty of space, Mom, and people would totally welcome you."

"How would I contribute, walking Rufus and feeding you aside?"

Rebecca heard and felt a chuckle next to her again as Sam sat up. "Oh, don't underestimate those, Mrs. C. You've already got my vote."

Laura shared a smile with Rebecca at that before continuing. "Me, the lofty grocery store lady, who's figured out a bit about gardening and wilderness living over the last several months, but otherwise has very few starkly utilitarian skills."

"Mom, like Sam said, don't go underestimating yourself. The distribution thing that folks want to make doesn't sound far off from a mini Costco. And, frankly, you did a hell of a job raising me, and there are kids there, some with single parents." A sly grin spread across Rebecca's face, and her tone took on a conspiratorial note. "Just think, this could be your chance to teach things the right way instead of the Common Core stuff you were always ranting about being complete shit when I asked for math help."

Laura probably tried to suppress her smirk, but if so, she failed. "Oh god, don't get me started. You do know how to appeal to me."