*From where she'd been smoking and watching Peter truculently, as though daring him to speak up again, Rose has gone very quiet. She's been at this for months, and it's the first time she's been honestly able to say what she's about to say, and she is, deeply and sharply, afraid. This is where the razor's edge of Damien's trust and fixation has the potential to find her throat if anything goes wrong, and suddenly she wants very, very badly to duck outside for a fix. Instead she takes a long drag on her cig and exhales slowly, and hesitates, and makes herself just say it.*

...I can help. They don't talk about anything official around me but I've got access to everything else. Social plans, sleeping arrangements...wards...just tell me what you need.