"God, I never used to think our old street was that loud, but since we've been here…" She sighed. "I've realised just how nice it is to have peace and quiet sometimes. I'll admit, it feels a little lonely and isolated, but still…"

He hummed in assent as he took a sip of his coffee. They sat on the porch outside while they ate breakfast. It was almost strange not having the sound of car horns and engines within their daily soundscape. The air was also crisp and clean, not weighed down with smog like in Los Angeles. Having a change of scenery had been incredibly healing for the both of them, with nothing to remind them of their darkest days. They had had more talks, usually ending in teary apologies for little things and big things alike. Neither of them had the energy to keep it all in anymore. No matter how much they loved and cherished having each other, some things were still hard. Tony would try to push through therapy, still try and deny he needed help, that he was getting over it, but Michelle knew that simply wasn't the case, that it might not be the case for a long time.

"There's something I read the other day in the pamphlets the therapist gave me." She pulled them out from the pocket of her jacket. "I think it might actually be good for both of us."

"Yeah?"

"A dog."

"I mean, we've got plenty of people guarding the house. A dog would be nice, but do we really need it?"

Michelle cleared her throat. "No, I meant like a…therapy dog. One that's trained to help calm you down if you're having an attack, one that's trained to get your medication, one that's trained to do things that normally only I can help you with. What if I'm not here and something happens?"

He shrugged with one shoulder. She knew he still had a lot of shame about his condition. Some days she felt like she was begging him to stop being so hard on himself, to stop expecting things to go back to normal, that some things had changed permanently, and that that was okay.

"Lots of people in different situations use them. Having one doesn't make you 'weak' or 'broken'. I want it for us, not just for you."

Tony didn't meet her eye, and she bit her lip, looking at him with concern. She could keep pressing him, make him admit how he felt, but that wouldn't get them anywhere. Both of them knew it. They were tired of this conversation. She wanted to take care of him. She wanted to be there for him. She didn't want him to feel alone. But he implored that sometimes it was too much, that he could handle some things on his own, that she shouldn't worry so much. Michelle just couldn't trust whether he was telling the truth because she knew it wasn't so much that he could handle some things, and it was more like he would force himself to. She did admit she had been overbearing and realised that space was good for both of them, as crazy as it sounded having been apart for so long.

But it was his treatment, his recovery. So Michelle decided maybe she should let him decide on his own.

"Please, just think about this," Michelle said as she set the pamphlets beside him and went back inside.

He walked into the kitchen a little while later, his footsteps so quiet he startled her when she turned around to find him standing there, pamphlets in hand.

"I'll…I'll give it a try. There's a trial program, where you can have one for a little while and decide if it works for you." Tony let out a soft laugh. "I do miss having a dog around, I admit that. Getting a bit of exercise by walking it can't hurt either.."

She smiled, moving forward to hug him. "Thank you. Y-You know that all I want is to keep both of us safe and to do what's best for us."

Tony's lips pressed against her hair. "I know you do. A lot of this is me being insecure. I know it's stupid. I-I'm just having a hard time admitting that I won't be able to do all the things I used to. Or at least…that I might need help with them."

Michelle's arms squeezed him tighter. "I understand that it's hard accepting that things won't be the same. But I'm with you every step of the way, no matter what. That's all we have to remember. That we have each other."

They held each other for a while, wordlessly communicating that each of them knew what the other wanted, that they respected each other, and that they loved each other. Tony looked at the clock when he finally did pull away.

"Do you want to go to the place today? I think they've just opened."

"Yeah…" She nodded. "We'll go."

They returned a few hours later with several boxes of supplies and a fidgeting black labrador named Wrigley in the back seat. Michelle's heart had melted at Tony's smile when they'd seen the playpen of dogs available. They could have him for a few weeks, and if they were happy, they would simply have to sign a few more forms to keep him. When they got home, Michelle insisted on packing everything away, wanting him to spend some time with the dog. She had to make a few trips to the car, getting glimpses of Tony playing with Wrigley along the way. When she had first heard of the idea, she had thought it was undeniably perfect. Not something invasive or 'clinical', but just a small lifestyle change. Michelle really hoped he would feel the same too.

She cursed under her breath when the wind slammed the door shut. He hated it. Sudden, loud noises. They'd figured it out in the early days at the hospital. Every time Wilson's people had left the room after torturing him, they'd always slam the door, frustrated by the fight he would put up. But even as Tony's energy to resist had faded over time, they would do it anyway. So his brain had come to associate those noises with pain, with fear, with horrific suspense about what they might do to him next. Since being home, Michelle had tried her hardest to make sure she was careful around the house, not carelessly slamming cupboard doors and making sure she kept her voice level when she spoke to him. But the disadvantage of living somewhere so open-plan and close to nature was that the wind was often loud and effective at making blinds shake or shutting doors around the house even if nobody was there.

As always, he tensed at the noise, trying to focus on his breathing, trying to calm down. Tony clenched his fists, shut his eyes, and he could tell that it likely wouldn't be one of those times when the attack would pass. Wrigley noticed this, moving to nuzzle Tony's thigh, persevering even as Tony tried to move away. As he put his head between his knees, he felt the dog press its face against his own, its soft whines of concern. It seemed desperate to keep in contact with him, to ground him, and Tony slowly realised that that was exactly what was stopping him from panicking completely, from viscerally remembering everything. With a trembling hand, he reached out, bringing the dog closer to him, stroking its fur, reminding himself that things would be okay, that he wasn't back there, that he would never be back there.

When Michelle ran back from the driveway to find the dog protectively pressed against Tony, but more importantly, to see Tony on the verge of fading out of a panic attack and not surrendering deeper into one, she felt her eyes water. Warily, she moved a little closer to the two of them, waiting for Tony to sit up and open his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry. I should have shut the door when I went back to the car."

"N-No, it's okay. He….he kept me here." He said hoarsely, but she could still tell how surprised he was. "I thought I would go back there, I thought I'd lose it and not know where I was, think that I was trapped again, but…" Tony looked down at the dog, cracking a small smile, and Michelle could see how emotional he'd gotten too. "This time I was able to fight it."

She sighed with relief, letting a tear roll down her face. He wasn't angry, he wasn't chastising himself, he was hopeful, almost. As if some of the light behind his eyes that she hadn't seen in a very long time, possibly wondering if it would ever return, had come back. That maybe this would work, that having a dog, a companion that intuitively knew when things weren't okay, by his side was the right thing. Standing up, the dog darted between their legs as he hugged her.

"You can say 'I told you so' now. We're keeping him, I'm sure."

Michelle laughed through her nose, kissing his cheek.