Epstein stopped by in the later hours of the evening. He explained he'd been seeing to the battered, exhausted lead SUV, clamping coolant lines and sticking old containers under the remaining leaks. He was still drying his hands with a rag as he finished his summary, having conscientiously cleaned them before entering the infirmary. "The headlights are toast, but should be easy enough to replace, like the radiator. But when the condenser behind it cracked, all the refrigerant vented, so no air conditioning without a replacement and a refill. I'm just glad the engine mounts held and the fan didn't smash forward."

Rebecca cringed. "At least summer's a ways off, but Amira's gonna be pissed."

Sam idly swiveled to-and-fro on the stool. "Defrost's gonna suck without AC to help dry the air though. But wasn't there a third VIP transport on the highway?"

Rebecca shook her head. "She said it was in front, and was a mess. I'm assuming that means a lot of the same stuff would be broken." She glanced at Epstein. "When you salvaged the ones we blew up four blocks from here, the damage was all in different areas, right?."

He nodded. "That's the only reason it was possible." He glanced at Sam. "Nice shooting back then, again."

She chuckled. "Lotta time on my brother's Xbox when he left for college and got a new one. I do miss me a good mech game, though."

Rebecca shook her head as the two of them descended into banter about old favorites — no surprise Epstein was fan of racing sims — and turned back to exchanging reassurances with her mother. It mostly consisted of her repeating that she'd be fine overnight. The last blood pressure check was fine, Sam would be with her, the damnable contraption attached to her ear would sound an alarm if her pulse or oxygen levels got weird. Sandra was right next door.

Admittedly, she was fretting a bit too. Yes, they were truly safe again — the fortifications on the surface had received considerable upgrades since she'd seen them last. But, she had enough memories of cold lonely nights in the dark that she still projected those feelings onto worries about her mother's impending night.

Eventually, she fell back on a familiar motivational tool and glanced at Sam. "Mom, look. If we don't both settle the heck down and stop being so neurotic, she's going to give us both what-for." She lingered her gaze on Sam's eyes for a moment. "Not that she's a malicious taskmistress. Just... makes people do what they need to for their own good. You can associate with that, right?"

Sam smirked as she was handing Epstein lantern batteries to drop onto chargers when he left. Rebecca tried to smile warmly enough to convey the teasing was meant affectionately, then looked back at her mother.

Maybe it was the crappy lighting, but she still looked pale after the day's ordeal. There was no way the handful of extremely shallow wrinkles starting to appear on her face would have deepened that fast, and Rebecca considered the whole 'locks of hair turning grey in fear' thing to be a myth. And yet.

"Mom. I promise we'll both feel better with some rest. If you can't sleep... there's always something in the mess area as a snack for the swing and graveyard shifts. People are in the comm center next to it twenty-four seven, and whoever's on guard duty there can open the storage where the community library is — it gets locked up overnight, but just let them know you're with us."

Laura chuckled and patted Rebecca's forearm. "Okay, okay. This old lady can take a hint, it's bedtime, I'll go to my room. Well, Sam's room technically, but you know."

"Oh sure Mom, make me sound like the mean one."

Sam interjected. "Hey, what goes around comes around. How do you think I've felt all this time being the authority figure in the relationship?"

"Honey." Rebecca pretended to be shocked. "You promised not to talk about such things in front of others. Especially not a serviceman or my mother!"

Sam rolled her eyes at her as Epstein laughed and started to back towards the door. "And I'll take that as my cue, too. Mrs. Clinton, I'll walk you to the workshop?"

Rebecca grinned to herself when she realized he was abruptly the target of gratitude from all three of them. She didn't want to make her mother walk back on her own, Laura probably didn't want to if she could avoid it, and both Laura and Sam wouldn't want to leave her alone, even for a short while. Major politeness stare-down averted. "Thank you, Lance. You're a proper gentleman."

"Gunny would have my ass otherwise. Hope you get some rest." He inclined his head in a slight bow and made a show of holding the door open for Laura, who dawdled to kiss Rebecca on the cheek and say goodnight to her and Sam.

Once they were alone again, Sam unbuckled the straps around her bedroll with a sigh. She opened the air valve and unfurled the camping pad on the floor to start inflating, then met Rebecca's questioning eyes. "Hey, sugar. Just another day that ends totally unlike we ever imagined, huh?"

Rebecca scooted on the hospital bed so Sam could sit on the edge, where the handrail Laura lowered was still down. "Yeah, no kidding."

Sam seemed to study her face for a few moments, then Rebecca saw her shoulders sag. Ah. The valiant knight takes off her armor. She sat up and beckoned Sam closer.

They both hesitated when a metallic creak came from the bed below them, but Rebecca managed to coax Sam into slumping against her. She chuckled into the top of Sam's hair when she felt a hand slip deftly under the back of her shirt.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. "Need a little... connection."

"Mmm. It's fine, your fingers aren't cold. So... now that's finally safe, and just us, you slow down and the stuff hits, huh?"

"Yuuup. Now it all catches up."

Rebecca squeezed Sam as best she could in the awkward position. "Penny?"

"Right now? Right now, I can't lose you, Remy. Not really ever, but I'm a bit broken after mom, dad... the farm. So I'm extra scared something more will happen to you. Guess that's something I can bond with your mom about, isn't it?"

"We should probably find something better than that."

Sam sniffled. "Yeah, probably..."

Rebecca held her quietly for a bit and then nuzzled her hair. "Well, whatever surprises the day brings, this right now, us together, is how it should end, right? I'm here, I don't seem to be going anywhere, and I promise I will be a good patient and do every little thing you n' Sandy say to get better." Sam silently held up her free hand, pinky extended. Rebecca hooked it with hers and sealed the bargain with a little shake. "Told ya, Rosie. I promise."

**

Sandra woke them somewhere in the vicinity of I-need-caffeine-o'clock for a morning checkup. Rebecca felt bad for having a real bed (even if it was an older, scavenged hospital model) while Sam was on the floor, even with a very high-end backpacking mattress. That meant she immediately set to massaging Sam's shoulders and upper back as soon as Sandy departed, which seemed to make them both feel a little better.

Mercifully, one of the amenities at Trent's was quick and ample hot water, so the ladies were well on their way to functioning brains when a vaguely familiar male voice came from behind Rebecca.

"Excuse me ma'am, but I think you stole my ride!"

Rebecca refused to actually sit in the damned wheelchair once they got to a destination so it was parked off to the side, but she grinned when she turned and saw the lanky, dark-haired thirty-something lookout who'd been wounded the night of the Black Tusk attack. She stood carefully, keeping a hand on the table as she swung one foot over the bench so she could accept his greeting hug. "Hey, Jerry. Good to see you up and around, from a normal angle and without the assholes around."

He grinned and looked at the kitchen area, calling out to Trent. "Hey, big man! Give the ladies half of my share of breakfast, whatever you're cooking up. I'm not super hungry." Jerry looked back to Rebecca. "You know, speaking of assholes, does His Imperialness know you're around?"

Rebecca groaned and rolled her eyes at the mention of Lassart. "Inevitably. But we're staying out of each other's way for now. Ignoring each other until one of us goes away or something like that." She wondered what his growing conspiratorial expression was about.

"Well, that might get easier at some point. As we're expanding, there's a push to 'have him focus on the construction side of things' — because there's so much to do, you see."

Rebecca and Sam shared a brief grin over the implications. "Of course. So much, we should have people focus on their strengths. Or something. That might be the best news we've heard in a few days."

When Rebecca invited him to join them for breakfast, he declined, explaining he was meeting others who wouldn't fit at their table. She felt a smile warm her face as she watched him depart to find his companions.

Sam lightly kicked her foot under the table. "Do I need to be worried?"

"No," Rebecca said as she gestured in his direction with her chin. "Look." Sam glanced back over her shoulder as casually as she could, and Rebecca saw the side of her cheek pull back in a grin too.

Rebecca recognized a few of the people Jerry was approaching as the jovial friends that pushed him around on the wheelchair the day of their exodus. There was also an unfamiliar round-faced woman, dark haired with light olive skin and a cheerful smile, who stood up with an eagerness Rebecca and Sam both recognized as he arrived.

Sam looked back to Rebecca with a chuckle. "Ah, new love."

"Right? They're precious." Rebecca rested her chin in her hand, glancing back at the group thoughtfully, then to Sam again. "It reminds me of your lectures about the good I've done."

Sam fidgeted with her sweatshirt drawstring. "Sugar, the phrase you're looking for is 'You were right all along, Sam.' It won't hurt you to say it."

"I dunno," Rebecca said with a smirk. "Sandra would really get mad about the unnecessary strain."

She was surprised by her mother's voice behind her. "Oh, you'd be surprised how necessary saying that can be sometimes. What were you right about, Sam?"

Rebecca squinted across the table. "Okay, well played, keeping your face straight while she was walking up behind me." Sam smiled semi-apologetically as Rebecca scooted over to make room for Laura. "Morning, Mom. Sam was right about how I was helping people around here last year, despite feeling unappreciated. And I get it now, so I don't need you to pile on!"

"Oh good, because I'm still tired." Laura yawned. "So who's a lady gotta nag to get some breakfast around here? Maybe with some wakeup juice?"

**

Laura was very complementary of Trent's culinary accomplishments given the times he faced. Rebecca admitted aloud that he was a definite lesson in the link between food quality and morale, and to her regret, he heard it. He'd probably gloat about it every time they saw each other again, so she wondered if it was time to get a move on. Sadly, Epstein was still dithering over the drivability of the damaged SUV and Sandra had imposed another checkup midday.

They stopped by the armory to see if Erik would loan them hearing protection for Laura, but first had to endure some hearty embraces from the large gunsmith. Sam took the brunt of it and warned him Rebecca was on the mend, so he tried to only crush her a little bit. Once they explained they were going to try teach Laura some of basics after cleaning and maintenance, he was halfway into a lecture about treating guns like they were always loaded before Rebecca realized what was happening. She tried to dissuade him, to convince him they could manage on their own, but he was soon pleading to assist, regaling them with tales of how bored he'd been recently.

When she saw how raptly her mother was heeding his monologues, Rebecca sighed. She wasn't sure if Laura's focus was from her determination to be useful in potential fights, or if she had another mildly-disturbed-by-her-mother-dating phase incoming. Sam's expression wordlessly agreed with her.

And, that's how she ended up with a lapful of low-grade ammunition while Sam carried the Tavor and Vector, Laura awkwardly held an M4 like it was an alien object, and Erik pushed her up a parking garage ramp towards the surface.