"But it's your fault," she insists, trying to bite back another bout of laughter, but it's really no use. She's always gotten like this when she's tired and she remembers lying with Marshall in her bed, the two of them exhausted and scared and laughing hysterically because it had been easier than dealing with whatever had been going on at the time. She misses her brother so fiercely it aches in that moment, because she thinks he'd like Newt, she thinks he'd approve, and she wants him here so badly, but even that doesn't stop her laughter.

"I just keep picturing you on that chair when I caught you," she explains, trying to catch her breath. "With the light bulb and the look on your face and I was so mad at you." But now it's really funny. Now she can picture his expression at being caught and it's kind of priceless. "And you and Danny at dinner, Jesus Christ, I'm sorry, it's not even that funny." Except it is.