I've been infected with an intense love for all thing Jo and Mac. Particularly after tonight's episode.
Disclaimer: I own not a singular thing.
When the lights go down,
and there's nothing left to be,
when the lights go down,
and the truth is all you see
-Faith Hill;
She walks in as the bartender places a tumbler half-filled with whiskey in front of him and she watches for a moment from the doorway as he takes a long drink, cringing as the alcohol burns down his throat. With a soft sigh and a small frown, she sheds her leather jacket and folds it over her arm as she crosses the room that smells like pipe tobacco and Kentucky's finest. The stool beside him creaks under her weight as she slides onto it, waving off the bartender when he starts over to take her order. She finds his hand on the bar and twines their fingers gently together, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles when he doesn't jerk away. Something is so very wrong. "Mac..."
"I'm fine, Jo." He takes another drink with his free hand.
Her eyes narrow, brow furrowing and lips pursing as she observes him. "You should know better than to try to lie to me."
"I... I've been having some trouble since the shooting." Her heart stops for a second as she remembers that fateful day, the day she almost lost him. Her fingers squeeze his tighter and she takes a long breath. "Not... No pain or anything life threatening..."
A sigh of relief escapes and she chokes back the tears that were starting to build. "Just tell me, Mac." Her body cants into his and her chin nudges his shoulder, as if her body is trying to coax the words from his. "Let me take some of it off your shoulders."
"There's been some aphasia," he begins. "It's like my brain short circuits and a disconnect happens. The doctors say it's normal and will probably go away. They gave me some coloring books and memory games to help but it's just... This is not who I am, Jo."
"I know." And she did. Mac Taylor was the silently prideful type; he'd never let his ego get in the way of the job but to be incapable of such a simple task, to be reverted to such childish activities, was deeply wounding his pride. "How can I help?"
"I can't do this alone." And it's another knock to his prideful nature. "They said I have to tell someone, that it will help if I'm not trying to do it all at once, if someone will help me. I just want to fix it, Jo, and have it all go away."
"C'mere." She slides off her stool and stands in the bit of space between them as she pulls him into her arms. He resists for a second before sinking into her embrace as she presses a kiss to the crown of his head and runs her fingers over his shoulder. "We will fix it, Mac. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it."
"I'm scared," he admits in a voice so soft that it almost disappears.
"That's okay, honey." She runs her fingers through his short hair and kisses his head again, willing her tears back down as her heart breaks for him and gathering her resolve. "You're not alone anymore, okay? You be scared and let me carry it for awhile."