INT. JO’S HOSPITAL ROOM — EARLY EVENING

Two hours later.

The room is dim.
Too quiet after the NICU.

Jo lies propped against the pillows.
Still.

Her face looks emptied out. 

The door opens.
Link steps in.

He looks spent.
A faint sheen of sweat at his temples.
His shoulder tight, movement careful.

He takes her in immediately. 
Awake.

That stops him.
He wasn’t expecting that.

He moves closer.
Slow. Careful.

LINK
(soft)
Hey…
How long have you been up?

JO
About an hour. 
(a small beat)
Where’d you go?

A flicker of something in him.

LINK
Just… PT.
(a softer beat)
I came straight back.

She nods.
That’s all she has.

He sits on the edge of the bed.
Glances at her.
She’s not really there.

LINK (CONT’D)
You feeling better?

A small nod.
Not convincing.
 
Silence.

He removes his shoes and climbs carefully into the bed beside her. Mindful of every line, every wire.

He turns toward her.
Close now. 
Too close to miss it.

She’s not just tired.
She’s hollow.

LINK (CONT’D)
(soft)
Are you okay?

She nods.
Barely.

He reaches for her arm.
Slow.
Careful.

His thumb brushes her skin.
He leans in.
Kisses her hair.

She closes her eyes.
Leans into it.
Just a little.

He stays there a beat.
Doesn’t move away.

LINK (CONT’D)
(quiet)
I called the kids earlier.

No reaction at first.

Then a flicker.

LINK (CONT’D)
They’re good.
Scout’s staying over.
Luna’s… better.

A small nod from Jo.
Distant.

LINK (CONT’D)
(softer)
They asked about the babies.
(a beat)
A lot. 

That lands.
He hesitates.
He opens his mouth.
Stops.

LINK (CONT’D)
I—
(a beat)
I told them their names.
(a small, almost apologetic beat)
They were so excited.

Silence.

Jo doesn’t move.

Then it hits.

Her face cracks.
Immediate.

JO
(whisper)
You told them?

Not anger.
Something more fragile.
Raw.

LINK
I didn’t mean to—
they kept asking and—

He stops.
Too much.

She folds.
Hands to her face.
And then she’s crying. 

Not quiet.
Not controlled.

It spills out of her.
Raw. Hormonal. Immediate.

Link freezes, just half a second.

Then he moves. 
He pulls her into him.

Firm.
Protective.

She clutches him.
Hard.

LINK (CONT’D)
I’m sorry.
(a beat, softer)
I should’ve waited.  

He presses his face into her hair.
Holds her tighter.

LINK (CONT’D)
I’m sorry. 

Her crying shifts.
Still there, but quieter now.

She feels him.
His guilt. 

She pulls back slightly.
Just enough to look at him.

JO
(through tears)
It’s not… about the names. 

He searches her face.

LINK 
Still— I should’ve—

She shakes her head.

JO
No—
(a breath, catching)
It’s just…
everything.
 
A beat.

He nods. 
Doesn’t argue.

JO (CONT’D)
It feels like I’m abandoning them again.

That lands.

He pulls her back in.
Immediate.

LINK
You’re not abandoning anyone.

JO
I wasn’t there when they needed me.

LINK
You were fighting for your life. 
(a beat)
And I was there.
(a beat)
They weren't alone.   

Silence.

She breathes.
Trying. 
 
JO
(whisper)
I just want normal. 

Fragile.

JO (CONT’D)
I want to wake up and just… be their mom.
(a breath)
Hold them.
(another)
Feed them.
(softer)
Not… wait for permission.

Her eyes close. 

He presses a kiss to her hair again.

LINK
This part is temporary. 

JO
It doesn’t feel like it.
 
A long beat.
 
JO (CONT’D)
Are they going to be okay?

He doesn’t rush it.
 
LINK
They are. 
 
She searches him. 

JO
What about Peyton?

There it is. The fear.
 
LINK
She’s being treated.
(a beat)
And look what she did today.
That wasn’t nothing. 

JO
What if something changes when we’re not there?

Quiet. Constant fear. 
He tightens his hold.

LINK
Then they call us.
(a beat)
But right now, they’re steady. 
You saw that. 
And they have the best doctors watching them.
 
She nods. 
Barely.
 
JO
They’re still fragile.
 
LINK
Yeah.
(a beat)
But moving forward.
Just like you are.
 
Silence.

JO
(whisper)
I just want to go home.
All of us.

No drama. 
Just… exhaustion. 

She looks at him.

He looks wrecked too.
Red eyes.
Holding it together.
 
LINK
We will. 
(a beat)
We just… take it one step at a time.

Silence stretches.

JO
They had me try pumping again… before you came in.

That shifts something in him.

LINK
(soft)
Yeah?

She shakes her head slightly.
 
JO
No arythmia.
But just a tiny drop of colostrum…
(a beat)
It's barely anything. 

A beat.

LINK
Hey…
That's something.

JO
But what if it doesn't come?

Silence.

He lets it sit.

LINK
Then we feed them another way. 

Simple.  
Grounded.

LINK (CONT’D)
It won’t change who you are to them.

She looks at him. 

JO
It changes what I thought this would be.
 
That’s the wound. 

He nods.
He understands that.

His hand moves to her shoulder.
Slow.
Grounding.

LINK
Nothing about this went the way we thought.
(a beat)
But we’re still here.
(a quieter beat)
That’s what matters right now.

Another beat.

LINK (CONT’D)
We’ll figure it out.
Together. 

Her eyes close.
 
JO
It feels like my body keeps failing them.

He pulls her closer.

LINK
Your body carried them through everything. 
(a beat)
That’s not failing. 

Silence.

She presses into him.

JO
I just want all six of us in one place.
 
LINK
I know. 
(a beat)
We’ll get there.

A beat. 

She holds it together for a moment.
 
Then her breathing wavers again. 
Then it hits again. The hormone crash. 

She breaks.
Quieter this time.
Deeper.

He doesn’t speak.
He just holds her.

JO
(a small, shaky breath) 
I cried more in two days than in the last ten years.

A small breath from him. 

LINK
(soft, a hint of a smile)
Yeah… that sounds right. 

A faint, broken smile through tears.

He reaches for tissues.
Hands her one.

She wipes her face.

A beat.

LINK (CONT’D)
(soft)
Are you okay with me going home tonight?

JO
You promised the kids.
(a beat)
Can you just… stay a little bit longer?

He nods. No hesitation.
 
He pulls her closer. 

She closes her eyes.
Holding onto him.

And then, her body gives in.

She drifts.
Still holding him.

Link doesn't move.
Watching her.
Listening to her breathe.

He presses a soft kiss to her temple.

No words. 
Just presence.

FADE OUT.