Rebecca’s initials are RAR for a reason. She’s a secret keeper, an archive for others’ information and has been all her life. Her father was an American black soldier who met her Iranian mother during an undercover op in Desert Storm. Her parents were older when she was born, they are dead now, and the reasons why are still unknown to her. She has the facts, but not the emotions behind them. All of this leaves her with a quiet feeling of unrest, but she does not know why.
Rebecca is defined by her love. She lives it. Gregory is her everything and it shows, as if a lightbulb is on in her abdomen giving her an all-over ethereal glow. It’s not just Gregory, though. It’s Leila. It’s Kermit. She speaks volumes of love disguised as a million other different emotions, and has to apologize a lot for letting small emotions become big ones.
Rebecca’s friend Daria is saving her a little bit at a time, because Rebecca knows for certain that Daria is not in love with her. She knows that Daria only wants companionship and the kind of archetype you mean by “bringing her home to meet Ma.” Talking about Daria leaves Rebecca in a heap on the floor, because they’ve shared so much that Rebecca is afraid of her. Doesn’t trust a friend that would lay themselves bare like that without ulterior motive, and doesn’t have a clue why she would need one.
Rebecca’s relationship with Gregory is a conundrum, because while they love each other beyond all measure. Rebecca takes particular delight in using her husband to participate in ridiculous adventures for which he is not emotionally capable. Gregory would much rather kiss Daria and Rebecca goodbye and let them have the adventure while he makes the tea and fluffs the pillows on the couch before settling in to a Dexter marathon. Rebecca would rather make him into Mr. Smith. He does not want to go, and never really takes up the mantle. Rebecca is often faced with the choice between predictability and excitement. Sometimes she chooses wisely, and sometimes she just feels like she’s failing at life in a way that no one else ever has.
Because, see, she and Daria are companions… over at each other’s houses a lot… talking about anything and everything… and Daria spills a secret that changes their lives forever. In an instant, Rebecca goes from confident and fully-functioning adult to small child in an adult’s body, no myelin on her nerves, heart beating outside of her chest as she now knows that Daria isn’t combatting danger. She *is* the danger. Daria is unhinged in a very unique way, broken down by her own government and turned into a monster in purple All-Stars.
The choice that Rebecca has to make is how to handle that anxiety. There is no one in the world with a purer heart than Daria. No one. She was built to kill for a reason, and she is who she is for the greater good out of necessity. Rebecca is clear that there is no way in the world she can or will back out of Daria’s life. Right now, her questions center on herself and the hardships of loving Daria for who she is. She knows she can turn off her emotions and handle amoral violence… that’s a non-issue, because she’s a secret keeper, hurt in the way that all secret-keepers are. She is terrified of every op, every phone call, every communication anywhere. She knows it would be interesting to watch what happened if anyone tried to attack Daria in her presence, because she knows within herself that the white hot anger of injustice will slice someone’s head off if it was ever necessary for it to happen.
Rebecca is certain that she was meant to be the kind of friend that warrior needs, if she can only hold it inside her mind for five minutes that going a day without Daria doesn’t mean she’s never coming back.