Ned doesn't know if it's what made the difference with Meyer, but he stares down at his hands as he says, "I can make the same promise to you that I made to him. I swore on my mother's grave that I wouldn't say anything." Despite the repetition, the words have the same weight that they did the first time. If there is one vow Ned is not about to break, that is it. It's the strongest he can offer: stronger than swearing by God, on a Bible, on his soul, on anything.

Now that he's shored up his intentions, he gives a reassurance of his capability: "I'm good at keeping secrets, Charlie. You don't have to worry that I'll make a mistake."

"Yeah. The- prison cell, right?" He hadn't known whether to bring it up or not. "You gave me a cigarette." The gesture makes more sense to his waking mind, and he can understand it as a kindness in a way that he couldn't while he was still dreaming.

Charlie's dream had been far less harrowing and intimate than some of the others he'd shared, but it was still full of a certain amount of private information. "Sorry about that."