Jed was walking back to the couch when he heard sobbing coming from the office once more. Not unusual, not these days, but it was starting to feel…off. She and Kara met regularly, and on the surface it made perfect sense. Both were missing their husbands; he expected a certain commiseration, and understood unscheduled tears. Worse, the revelation of Rachel's ex's survival had hit the tabloids; she'd become a virtual hermit in response. But lately, he'd been getting a very…secretive… vibe whenever he saw the two together. He glanced at the kid's rooms, finally asleep since it was midnight, and decided the hell with it. With barely a knock on the door, he went into the office to find Rachel slamming her laptop shut.

"Hey there." He said, closing the door behind him.

"You do know the point of knocking is to be invited in, right? She said coldly.

"What, so I can give you time to squirrel away your secrets and pretend nothing's wrong?"

"Yes, things are just peachy with Tom gone!"

He sighed.

"Rachel, something is wrong. More than Tom dying. There's something else you're not telling me. And frankly, Rachel, you're not good at it, and it's not good for you." He watched her face as he spoke – she flinched at the word 'dying'. "He's dead, Rachel, and it hurts. There's no sugar coating it. But the rest of us are still here, and you can talk to us about it." He sat down and spoke softly. "I've been there, you know. After my wife died, I hid from the world too. Until Tom joined me with a couple of cases of beer and we got drunk enough that weekend to mourn her properly."

"So you're suggesting I need to get drunk, and then I'll be over it?" she asked, highly skeptical.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

"No Rachel, that is not what I'm saying. I'm saying that Chandler men – and possibly the British – are too stiff-necked to admit what they need or ask for help. For us, the beer helped. I'm not saying a weekend is enough time, but it broke the wall of denial and let us start to heal." He looked at her as she processed that. "If you want me to get a case of beer, I will. Or whatever your favorite drink is."

Fresh tears started down her face, and she reached for a new tissue.

"You're very kind, Jed. But I don't think alcohol will help this." She said, tacitly admitting that Jed was right.

"And what is 'this', anyway?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you. Or anyone."

"What, is it classified?"

"Basically, yes."

"Basically? It either is or it isn't, Rachel. The government's very specific about that sort of thing. And I'm going with 'isn't', if it makes you cry randomly. So…out with it."

"I can't. He asked me not to. And I agree with him."

"Him?" Something about the way she said it struck a chord in him. "Who's him?" He watched her face and saw guilt. "Tom?" she didn't say anything, but the look on her face was all the confirmation he needed. "What the hell, Rachel, why?"

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her computer and typed in her password before showing him the screen. He looked it over, seeing a letter from Michael, sent to her via the Nathan James.

…That boat is the reason I'm alive. I found it abandoned mid-plague, took it out into the sea – just far enough to barely see land – and dropped anchor. I lived off fish and rainwater for almost six weeks…

Then, there was a shift in the writing of the letter, almost as if someone else were writing it, as the narrative became ever direr (apparently being an American in China was hazardous right now). Something niggled at Jed's brain as the letter began to wrap up – something that became clear when he read the final line: 'Until I see you again'. The Chandler family had a long tradition of military service, and that line had been used when writing letters home for generations.

"Holy shit, Rachel. The whole ex-boyfriend thing was a ruse?"

"Yes and no. Michael really is alive – I talked to him, and there are things in the beginning of that letter only he would know. But Tom is alive too, as you can see."

"Wow." This was a hell of an emotional rollercoaster. He looked at his daughter-in-law and was retroactively impressed with how well she'd kept herself together.

"You can't tell anyone. They'll try to kill him again."

"I won't." He agreed. "I assume Kara knows?"

"Yes."

"Is there anyone else you can trust?"

"I'm not telling anyone else, Jed."

"And I'm not asking you to. I'm asking if there's someone you can turn to if things go sideways." She looked at him, confused.

"Rachel, there's someone that wants Tom dead. If he shows up alive before he takes care of his enemies, and they can't reach him, they will reach for his family. Now, is there someone here that you trust in addition to Kara?"

Rachel suddenly pushed him out of the way and ran to the sink, retching. That possibility was clearly not something she had considered; he instantly regretted bringing it up. He could have taken precautions himself and saved her the worry.

"Rachel, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to…" He waited until she stopped. It didn't take long.

"I should have thought of that."

"We'll be okay. I'll take care of it, okay?" he offered, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. She briefly patted it in appreciation before reaching for the toothbrush next to the sink. "Uh, Rachel, why do you keep a toothbrush at the office sink?" He knew why there was a sink here, but it still seemed strange to have a toothbrush here in the office when he knew she had one just down the hall. Then, suddenly, other facets of her strange behavior clicked. "You're a better actor than I gave you credit for."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're pregnant."

The toothbrush paused halfway to her mouth and slowly lowered back to the sink.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Tom should have been the first to know. I don't want him to find out from some tabloid about his 'grieving pregnant widow'. They're already having a damn field day as it is."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"Worse, when I do go out, it's all I can do to accept condolences for a man who, last I heard, isn't dead. If people find out I'm pregnant, it just gets more awkward. And I just can't handle that right now."

"Okay, okay. Our little secret." He said, pulling her into a hug. She resisted at first, but then relaxed and leaned into it. They stood there for a while, silent tears dampening his shirt until she sniffed loudly and stood up.

"Now I know where Tom gets his hugs from. I needed that."

"Anytime." he said sincerely. "Now let's get you to bed. You need your rest."