Rory fisted her hands Peter's shirt and hid her face against his shoulder, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn't seem to contain. When she finally got control again, she felt light-headed, weak; the fear and uncertainty she'd been carrying for months had suddenly been lifted, and it was as though she had to re-learn how to stand without it. "You're really here," she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him. "You're alive...you're okay..."