Rachel shuffles from foot to foot, as she hovers outside of the door to her house in Greenfield Meadows. Mild anxiety courses through her, of how her parents will react at her sudden visit — but… she’s finally ready. She’s finally ready to come home.

She takes a deep breath.
(The energy swells, as it always does)
And she knocks on the door.

She waits.

There are some movement sounds from inside — they’re home, she thinks — and soon, the door unlocks, and opens.

“Can I help yo—”

Her mother stands at the door, midway through a question, face frozen as she takes in the sight of her daughter.

“Hi, mum.” Rachel says — sheepishly, and yet, her voice is tinged with emotion as it wavers, her body almost unable to move.

The next moment, Rachel finds herself pulled into the tightest hug she’s ever received.

“Pietro! Darling!” Jocelyne almost screams it, filled with relief and hope, back into the house, barely able to form the words, “Rachel’s — Rachel’s home, come, quick—”

Footsteps.
She sees him — over her mother’s shoulder, she sees her father, at the foot of the stairs.

Rachel hasn’t seen her father cry in many, many years — not since she was so little, that she can barely even remember at all; that it’s all just fog to her, now — and it takes her aback, to watch his face crumple, to watch tears roll down the creases, the dark circles under his eyes, into his stubble.

And then, with great urgency, he moves towards his daughter and his wife, and takes them into his arms.

All three are crying, now.
They stay like that for a while.
A family.

“We’re so sorry we made you feel like we would be happier without you. That our home didn’t include you, Rachel,” cries Rachel’s mum, as she pulls back just enough to look into her daughter’s eyes, “or… or that us living here, that the summer and the aftermath, that a building,” there’s a painful laugh, that accompanies it, “mattered more than you being with us.”

Her father chimes in, next, as he kisses Rachel’s head (familiar, a flash of memory, younger again, the old apartment).

“God, we were so terrified of losing you, of… you getting hurt, that we ended up driving you away — that we lost you. That you couldn’t even be yourself around us, anymore.”

“I— I ran away because I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rachel interrupts, crying out, shaking her head frantically, “I never wanted you to think that I didn’t love you, or that… I hated you, and that’s why I left.”

She pulls back, and wipes at her eyes, sniffling.

“I told you, in my email that… that I love you both more than anything else in the world. And I mean every word of that. I really do. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy.”

“We wouldn’t be. Not without knowing that you’re safe and happy, too.” Rachel’s mum whispers, cupping Rachel’s face.

Rachel nods, understanding.

“I think I’m safer and happier than I have been, in a long time.”

As Rachel says this, her dad reaches out to take one of her hands, to hold them, and her mum does the same.

“That’s all we ever wanted, firefly.”