A few days later. 

INT. GREY SLOAN MEMORIAL – HALLWAY – DAY

The hallway is calm. Familiar now.

Link walks beside Jo at an unhurried pace.

He’s dressed. Shoes on. Arm still in a sling.

A PT walks a few steps behind them, gait belt clipped — loose, almost symbolic.

This isn’t his first walk.
It’s just today’s.

Jo stays close, but not hovering.
Her hand occasionally brushes his back — grounding, affectionate.

They reach the end of the hall.
Link pauses. Not from pain. From effort.
He exhales, steadies.

JO
(smiling softly)
You want to head back or keep going?

LINK
Let’s turn back.

No frustration. No pushing too far.
They turn.

As they walk, Teddy steps out of a nearby room, chart in hand. She looks up and clocks them instantly.

TEDDY
Well. Look at you.

Link smiles — small, wry.

LINK
I clean up well for someone who lives here now.

TEDDY
Not for much longer, from what I hear.

LINK
I like the sound of that.

She glances at the sling.

TEDDY (CONT’D)
How’s it feeling?

LINK
Manageable.

TEDDY
That’s doctor code for “still annoying but improving.”

LINK
Exactly.

Teddy nods, satisfied.

TEDDY
(disappearing down the hall)
Don’t overdo it.

LINK
I won’t.

They continue walking.

A beat.

LINK (CONT’D)
I hate that this still takes so much out of me.

Jo doesn’t rush to counter it.
She walks with him another few steps before answering.

JO
It won’t always.

LINK
I know.

And he does.
They reach his room.

The PT steps forward, ready to unclip the belt.

LINK (CONT’D)
I’m good from here.

The PT hesitates — then nods. Unclips it.

Link takes the last few steps alone.
Not dramatically.
Just… normally.
Jo watches — proud, but quiet about it.

As they enter the room, Link exhales.

LINK (CONT’D)
I’m really ready to not live in hallways anymore.

JO
(smiles)
Soon.

She brushes a kiss against his temple.
Not celebratory.
Intimate. Assured.

They step inside together.
The door closes softly behind them.
Not the end.
But clearly, the way out.

FADE OUT.