INT. ICU HALLWAY — AFTERNOON

Link stops just outside Jo’s door.
He doesn’t go in right away. 
He presses his thumb briefly against his palm.

One breath.
Then another.

Whatever he’s carrying from the day — the kids, the twins, the guilt — he steadies it.

He straightens.
Opens the door.

INT. ICU ROOM — CONTINUOUS

Jo is awake.
Propped up slightly, oxygen cannula still in place.

More present now.
Fatigue still clings to her. 
Visible in the way she holds herself upright, like it costs something.

Bailey sits beside the bed, mid-conversation.
They both look up.

BAILEY
Well.
Look who’s here.

Jo smiles faintly.
Link exhales. Relief he didn’t know he was holding.

LINK
Am I interrupting?

BAILEY
We were having a very serious conversation.
 
She taps Jo’s leg lightly.
 
BAILEY (CONT’D)
I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.

JO
(tired, dry)
Don’t tell Marcus I said that.

Bailey grins and stands.

BAILEY
I’ll leave you two alone.

At the door, Bailey clocks Link properly.

BAILEY (CONT’D)
You good?

Link nods.

Bailey exits.

Silence settles.
The room softens.

Link moves closer and sits on the edge of the bed.

LINK
(soft)
Hey.

JO
Hey.

He looks at her a few long seconds. 
Then he leans in.
A long, careful kiss.

She lifts a hand to his face. Slowly. Like even that takes effort. 
He leans closer and hugs her.
They stay there a second longer than necessary.
Neither wants to let go.

She exhales against him.
Then they pull back just enough to look at each other.

LINK
How are you feeling?

JO
(soft, honest)
Like I slept through a week.

LINK
You're not wrong.

She smiles faintly. Watches him, grounding herself in him.
 
A beat.

JO
(soft, eyes glassy)
I love you.

LINK
I love you.

They kiss again.
Gentler this time. Settled.

LINK (CONT’D)
Ndugu says the second pump’s doing its job.
Your morning echo already looked better.

JO
(relieved)
Good.

She shifts, fingers brushing the cannula.

JO (CONT’D)
I can’t wait to lose these.

LINK
(smiles softly)
One thing at a time.

She nods.

A small beat. 

JO
(soft)
Have you seen the twins today?
 
LINK
I was there most of the day while you were sleeping.
(a beat)
They’re both going steady.

She waits.
Needs more.

LINK (CONT’D)
Baby A’s holding her own.
Baby B’s steadier today. On CPAP.
 
That’s it.
Enough information.
Not too much.

Jo absorbs it.

JO
(weak voice)
That’s good.
(a pause)
Did you talk to the kids?

Link hesitates, just enough for her to notice.

LINK
Yeah.

JO
How are they?

LINK
Scout’s with Amelia.

He stops there.

Jo doesn’t rush him.
Already bracing.

LINK (CONT’D)
Luna’s having a harder time.

Something shifts in Jo’s face.

JO
Harder how?

A beat.

LINK
She is asking for you.
(a beat)
And Scout not being there doesn’t help.

He looks down briefly.
 
LINK (CONT’D)
My mom's exact words… she's been ‘fussy.’

That word lands wrong.
Jo flinches.

JO
Fussy…

She stops herself.
Tries to breathe through it.
 
LINK
That’s not how she meant it.
(a beat)
She just meant Luna’s angry.
And it’s hard on everyone.

Jo shakes her head too quickly.
The motion costs her.
She winces faintly. 

JO
Of course she’s angry.

And then it hits her.
Hard.
A sob breaking free before she can stop it.

LINK
Hey— hey.  
Come here.

He pulls her gently into him, careful of the lines, careful of her.

She cries.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just raw.

Hormones crashing.
Guilt flooding everything at once.

LINK (CONT’D)
Hey…
It’s okay.
 
She tries to steady herself.
Fails.

Another breath.
Another sob.

JO
All Luna knows—

Her voice cracks.

JO (CONT’D)
—is that her mom’s been in a hospital.
For a week.

She presses her face into his chest.

JO (CONT’D)
She hasn’t seen us.
  
Her grip tightens.

JO (CONT’D)
And all she hears—

She breaks.

JO (CONT’D)
—is that there are two new babies.
(a beat)
And that both her parents are here.
Not with her. 

Link holds her tighter.

JO (CONT’D)
So yeah.
(a beat)
Of course she’s angry.
She has every right to be.
 
She stays there, spent.
The truth heavier now that it’s said.

LINK
I know.

Her breathing stutters.

JO
I’ve been stuck in this bed.
(a beat)
I am not with her.
I am not with them.
I’m just… stuck here.
 
She lifts her head.
Looks at him, fully broken open now.

JO (CONT’D)
I am failing everyone.
 
Link doesn’t rush to fix it.
He just holds her.

LINK
You’re not.

A long beat.
He has nothing better than the truth.

JO
(through tears, urgent)
I need to call her.

Link stills for a second.
He knows what that could do to her.
He looks at her. Really looks.

LINK
(gentle)
Are you sure?

A beat.
Not challenging.
Just checking.

JO
Yes. Please.

That’s it.
No hesitation now.

Link nods.
A beat.

LINK
Do you need a minute?

This time she nods.

JO
(fragile)
Yeah.
 
She leans back against the pillows.
Breathing carefully.

One hand wipes her face.
Then again.

She closes her eyes for a second.
Trying to pull herself together without forcing it.

Link waits.
Says nothing.
Just stays close.

After a moment:

JO (CONT’D)
Okay.

Her voice is small.
Not ready.
But willing.

LINK
(soft)
You’re okay?

JO
Yeah. 

A beat.

LINK
I hope they’re back from the park.

He reaches for his phone.
Jo wipes under her eyes once more.
Tries to sit a little straighter.
Immediately regrets it.

Link notices and adjusts the pillow behind her without a word.

His hand comes to rest gently on her thigh.
Grounding.

She nods once.
Bracing.