This is Just something I wrote on tumblr In honor of Jolex Week on tumblr. Hope you enjoy.

"Are you sure you want me to come in with you? Because I can sit in the car if you need space." Jo turns her head to face me while she does the talking, as she's been doing ever since she had the idea to come here. I haven't spoken a word to her since we left the airport ten hours ago and it's not because I'm mad at her or annoyed with her, it's simply because I don't know exactly what to say. "Alex?" She calls my name when I take a moment to say something back to her. I'm just running through words in my head, trying to find something to say. "Alex? What do you want to do?" I still haven't found the right thing to say just yet. She sucks her teeth, folds her arms and looks straight forward. "Fine."

Jo and I have been on good terms for the last four years that we've been together. Sure there were ups and downs along the way just like any other couple but for the most part, we've been on really good terms and it really seems as if there's nothing I can do that'll make her run away from me. When we were first starting out in our relationship, I used to be scared of that. I used to be terrified that if I piled all my crap on her, she'd eventually decide that I'm not worth it and she'd run. I've had my fair share of failed relationships in the past, way more than I'd like to count. It took me until sometime two years ago to realize that Jo's in it with me in the long run. She's not the marrying type but she walked down the aisle and said "I do" to me last year, she's not really the type to want to commit but we've been together for four years, married for one and most importantly, she's never been the type to open up to someone enough to become domestic with that person, yet she spent her money to buy a loft for just the two of us to live together. I think it's pretty safe to say that she's not going anywhere. She's made it clear that she doesn't scare and give up easily…so why can't I talk to her? Why can't I tell her that I would love nothing more than for her to come in here with me for support, but I don't think she should? I would love it if she came in here. But I really don't think she should. I've seen this before and I know how ugly it can get if it's not one of her good days. Add that to the fact that I haven't been here in 18 years, it's a recipe for disaster.

"…I don't want you to sit in the car." I mumble, pinching the bridge of my nose as I try to figure out what the best approach to take here would be. I'm usually so well put together when it comes to things like this. I usually always know what to say and what to do because I've been dealing with crazy crap all my life but for some odd reason, I can't even think of where to start today. All I know is that I don't want my wife to sit in the car while I go inside because this has potential to take a long time. She could be sitting in the car for a few hours. I take a deep breath to brace myself and grab onto the door handle. "Come on. Come with me." I pull handle, push the door open and step out. For the entire week leading up to us coming here, she's been asking me if I'm nervous or excited or anxious to come here and my answers were always the same "no". Because up until a second ago, I really wasn't nervous, I really wasn't excited and I damn sure wasn't anxious to come here. But seeing the building is surreal and it put it all into perspective for me. After 18 long years, I'm finally going to drag my ass in here.

I pull my head together and walk around the front of the car so I can go to the passenger's side and help Jo. Her rear end is sticking out of the backseat and I see her rummaging around. I stand aside to wait for her. I don't like it when she carries the entire thing, so I'm pretty sure that she's taking her out, which is probably why it's taking her so long. Sure enough, she carefully eases her way out of the car and puts her hand on the back of our precious cargo's head. Since she's carrying the baby and the diaper bag, I shut the door for her and pause for a moment to make sure she's alright with carrying both. The baby kicks her legs and stretches out her little arms against Jo's chest, which basically means that we woke her up. "Shhhh…" Jo rubs her back and gently bounces her up and down to soothe her before her little whine can turn into a serious cry. Once it looks like she can handle carrying both the baby and the diaper bag, I walk ahead of them so I can hold the door. "No, don't cry…don't cry…shhh…don't cry." I have half a thought to turn around and help Jo with the baby but she can handle her. Jo's a good mom…or at least she's been a good mom for the entire three months the baby's been alive. "When we get in here, I need you to reach in the outer pocket of her diaper bag and grab me her pacifier."

"Alright." I pull one of the double doors open and step aside so my wife and my child can walk through it. Jo and the baby both innocently saunter into the building and I step inside too but I make sure I get in front of them since I'm the primary visitor for today. I put my hands in my pockets and nonchalantly walk to the receptionist. Before she can ask me the usual "how may I help you", I speak up. "Alex Karev…here to visit Helen Karev." Some things never change and some things you just never forget. Like for example, I immediately know that I should pick up the little black pen and sign into the guest book. That's one thing I haven't forgotten in the last 18 years. I jot my name down, jot a "+2" next to it to account for Jo and the baby and put the pen back down. Even though I don't think I'm going to let Jo come in the room with me, I still have to let them know that she and the baby are with me. The receptionist clicks around on a computer for a moment before she hands me a sheet of three yellow stickers that have the word "VISITOR" on them in black letters.

"Ms. Karev's room is up on the psychiatric floor. You're gonna follow this hallway all the way down and you'll come to an elevator. The psychiatric floor is floor number three." She points out directions to us. I nod as a form of "thank you" and motion with my hand for Jo and the baby to follow me. I think Jo might've got a little impatient about the baby crying because she has a pacifier in her mouth the next time I turn around and look at her, which means she didn't wait for me to get it for her. That's the only thing about Jo that I don't particularly care for as a mother. Not that she has a bad temper and no patience with the baby because that's not the case. In fact, she's really good with the baby and she has a higher tolerance than I do. The thing I don't like is how she gets embarrassed if the baby cries in public and she automatically wants to soothe her. She doesn't like when people stare at us in public when the baby is crying and personally, I could give a damn and I don't think she should care either.

We walk down the hallway and this place is exactly how I remember it being 18 years ago when I had her committed. The carpets are still the same shade of deep red, the walls are still brown with gold trim and there are still pictures of inanimate objects hanging on the wall. I remember back when I was a little kid, I thought it was really nice how they have the place set up to look like a hotel. I didn't like the thought of putting my mom in a mental facility but I did like the idea that it wasn't as scary as I thought it was going to be. I remember coming in here for the first time and feeling relieved that she was going to be living in a nice place. It helped me talk myself into believing that I acted in the best interest of her. "Look Jo, I don't want you two to come in there right away." Once the elevator doors close, I push the number "3" button and turn to face my wife and my daughter. Jo looks confused. "I don't know what kind of day she's having and until I know what kind of day she's having, I don't want you in there. If…If it's bad, I'll come out and tell you to go back to the car. If it's good, I'll come out and let you know that it's okay if you come in."

"…If you're not going to let me come in right away, why didn't you just let me sit in the car?" I've been with Jo long enough to know the signs that tell when she's pissed. Her eyebrows are contorted, her eyes are narrowed and her lips are pressed together. "Instead of making me drag her out of the car just to stick her back in? You could've let me sit in the car and then called me if it was okay for me to come in. Why would you make me drag the baby out?" I can tell she's trying to keep her tone reasonable so that the baby doesn't cry but the more she talks to me, the harder it's getting for her to control her tone. "That makes no freaking sense, Alex."

I bite my lip and look down at the ground. I close my eyes, take another deep breath and look back up at her. "…I wanted you to come in for support. I don't…know if I can do this on my own and I need you here. That's why I told you to get out of the car." I admit and look away from her again, just as her face begins to soften. "I shouldn't have made you drag her out for the hell of it, but I just really needed you to come in here with me. I'm sorry."

"Baby…" She props the baby up a little higher on her shoulder and secures her with one arm. She uses her free hand to hold mine. "It's going to be fine. You can do this." She strokes my knuckles with her thumb and looks up at me. "It's your mother, Alex. Everything's going to be alright. You can do this." She tilts her head upward and kisses my cheek. "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for." The elevator doors open up and spit us out onto the third floor and I have to take another deep breath before I step off. Remember how I listed all the things Jo does/did to reassure me that she loves me and she's not going anywhere? Well add this to the list of things I do to show her that I love her. I was perfectly content with sending my mother money every month. I could've lived the rest of my life without seeing her again because honestly, I don't want to see her like this; locked up in a mental institution, drugged to the point where her personality isn't anything like I remember it being while I was growing up. I didn't want to come here. But ever since we had our daughter, Jo's really been pushing me to come see my family. She wants our baby to grow up knowing that she has a grandmother, an aunt and an uncle and while it's an awkward situation for me to just show up after 18 years, I have to admit that there is a little part of me that thinks it's important that our daughter knows where she comes from. It's a little bit more important to Jo than it is to me, considering the fact that our daughter is the only blood relative she has.

I look around as I start walking to the desk to tell them that I'm here to see Helen Karev again. Again, they do a very nice job of disguising the fact that this is a mental hospital. The walls are light green and the carpets are dark brown and everything is garden themed. I approach an elderly blonde woman wearing green scrubs at the desk. She gives me a warm and friendly smile. "Hello…I'm here to visit Helen Karev." I mumble and run my fingers through my hair. This is the only different part that I remember about being here 18 years ago. 18 years ago, the walls were white and the carpets were white too. It looked like a hospital in here 18 years ago. Today, they have a sofa and a coffee table in the waiting area and there's something playing on a nice flat screen TV hanging on the wall.

The blonde woman smiles at me and writes something on a piece of paper. "Yes, of course." She's writing so fast that it's illegible and I can't make out what she wrote. "Helen is one of my favorite residents. You must be her son…she's been talking about you coming to visit her for the last week. She's very excited." She closes the book to whatever she was writing, clicks something on the computer and smiles again. "Right down that hallway there." She points down a long orange hallway. "Room 305."

"Thank you." I mumble again and look around for Jo. She must've taken what I said seriously, because she's sitting over on the couch, rocking the baby from side to side and watching whatever's on the TV. In our years of being together, Jo and I have developed a very strong bond and it's like we're on the same wavelength at times. Somehow, through that little connection, she knows that I'm looking at her and she peels her eyes away from the TV and looks at me too. She nods her head at me to tell me that she'll be fine out here. I nod back and she blows a kiss at me. Once again, I have to take a deep breath to get myself through this. I inherently swallow my pride and start walking down that orange hallway. When I make it to room 305, I lift my arm up so I can knock but I can't bring myself to actually do it. What if she's not lucid? She won't know who I am, she'll probably be staring at the clock and rocking back and forth like she used to do 18 years ago. She'll think I'm here to kill her. Even worse, what if she is lucid? What excuse do I have for not coming to visit her in 18 years? I close my eyes, breathe in deep and when I exhale, I actually rap my fist against the white door.

I'm only standing here waiting for no more than ten seconds before I hear rustling coming from the inside. It sounds like the door is being unlocked and I think I'm close to having a panic attack. I just don't know what to expect when she opens this door. She could welcome me with open arms or she could scream and turn me away because she doesn't recognize me as her son and as someone that's out to get her instead. My heart is thumping so loud that I can hear it in my ears and I was hungry a second ago but now, all I can think about is the feeling in the pit of my stomach that's making me want to vomit. The gold doorknob turns and in an instant, the door is slowly being pulled open. Someone sticks their head out and that someone is not who I was expecting in the least. Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse… "Alex?" Shock, disbelief and utter surprise makes her voice come out in a tone that's only slightly above a whisper. She looks a lot like I remember her looking like 18 years ago. Thick, dirty blonde hair that rests well past her shoulders, the most delicate and petite features and piercing green eyes that are enough to haunt even the strongest of men. Her lips are parted and her head slowly tilts down to the side as if she's trying to figure out if I'm really standing in front of her. She's a lot taller than she was when she was two, I'll say that much. "Alex…" It's as if she finally decided that her eyes are not deceiving her; that it's me and it's safe to hug me because she barrels out of the room and throws her arms around me.

I'm honestly in as much shock as she is right now. She's the last person I thought I would open up the door to. She's so…so old now. She's only about 20 if my memory serves me correctly but the last time I saw her, she was two years old and being cherished by a loving foster mother. Amber's always been real easy on the eyes. It wasn't as hard for her to be placed as it was for me and Aaron because no foster family had an issue with taking in a beautiful, blonde toddler that looked like a porcelain baby doll. She's tall now, only a few inches shorter than me and she has…she has BOOBS now. Somehow, I find it in my body to wrap my arms around her too. "…Ambs." I squeeze her. I didn't realize how much I missed her. The last I heard of her was about six years ago when Aaron came to see me because he had a herniated bellybutton. He told me that she's smart and she has a bright future. Aaron fell in mom's footsteps and he's locked up somewhere too. "What are you doing here?"

"I always come see her on Thursdays…" She lets me go, pulls back from me and I can see that she's crying soft, innocent tears. "What are you doing here? Th-The nurses…they said you planned on coming but I didn't think you'd actually…" She shakes her head and wipes her tears away. "It's been too long…" I don't really want to get into the whole "it's been such a long time" ordeal so I just look down at the brown carpet and sigh. "Come on! Come in…she'll be so happy to see you." She grabs my hand and yanks me through the door. "Mom…" She shuts the door behind us and scurries over to a chair next to the window. I can't walk anymore. My legs are like gelatin and I can't even move them. The walls are white and hanging above the bed is a wooden cross. The window has bars on it but curtains over it to cover the bars and the clock hanging on the wall has a sheet of paper taped over it. There's a bed, a dresser, chairs and a door that probably leads to a bathroom of some sort. And sitting in the chair next to the barred up window is my mother, looking just as I remember her. Her blonde hair is wispy and very thin and she looks small and very frail. Her hair is unruly and uncombed, she's sitting cross-legged in the chair and she's looking out the window. To most people, the sight of their mother like this would probably freak them out but for me? I'm used to it. "Mom, look…" Amber tries getting her to turn her head. "Look. Alex is here…"

As soon as she says my name, my mom turns her head and looks right at me. Suddenly, I feel ten times smaller. I feel like I'm a little kid again, defenseless and at a loss for words. I can feel her eyes boring into me and it's like she's saying all the words she wishes she could say just by looking at me. I watch as a smile spreads across her dry, cracked, pink lips, exposing teeth that are yellowed and brittle. "Alex." Her voice is raspy but loud enough that I can hear. "They said you were coming…" It sounds like it hurts for her to talk. "You're so big…and handsome. Come over here." She holds her skinny arms out and seeing that she's lucid, knows who I am and is welcoming me is enough to make my legs want to move. I hurry over to her, bend down and give her the hug she was anticipating. "Oh, Alex…it's been so long…" She starts rubbing at my hair. "I think about you every day…" I can hear that she's crying, which honestly makes me want to cry but I'm not a crier so I'm not going to. I squeeze her a little tighter and finally let go. "So Amber says you're a doctor? What kind?"

"Pediatrician…I do surgeries on little kids and babies." I fix my shirt and look around some more. All over her walls are pictures in frames of me, Amber and Aaron. There's even a picture of me when I graduated from med school and I can't help but wonder how she got that. She really must think about me every day. "…How've you been, ma?" I sit down on the bed and run my hands through my hair again. Amber sits down next to me and makes it a point to make sure that our shoulders are touching. I wonder why the nurses didn't tell me that Amber was here too. Maybe it's their duty to make sure the identity of the visitors is concealed but I still wonder why they wouldn't at least mention it.

"I've been well." She nods her head and I glance at Amber for confirmation on this. She subtly nods her head, which tells me that yeah, she's been doing okay. "…Surgeries. You're pretty smart. I always knew you were smart. I always knew you were gonna do something good." She starts rocking in the chair. "Amber's trying to be a doctor too, right? The kind of doctor that helps people in rehab."

"Occupational therapy." Amber clarifies.

"Nice." I pat her on the shoulder to let her know that I'm proud of her. In all honesty, I was expecting this to be a lot more awkward than what it is. Don't get me wrong, it's awkward. But not as awkward as I thought it was going to me. "So uh…I got married." I sigh and fold my hands in my lap. Both my mom and Amber's faces light up when I say that. "Yeah um…I'd like for you to meet her, actually. If you'll just excuse me… I'm gonna go get her." I'm honestly glad that she seems to be lucid enough to meet Jo. I get up off the bed and walk over to the door. I open it, make sure it's unlocked so I'll be able to get back in and walk fairly quickly back down the orange hallway. "Jo." I call her name and she looks over at me like she's expecting for me to tell her to go back to the car. I motion for her to come here with my hand and a huge smile spreads across her face. She gathers up the baby and the diaper bag and stands up. "She's lucid. She's okay and she wants to meet you. My sister's in there too…"

"Your sister?" She sounds just as surprised as I was. I nod my head and lead her to my mom's room. "That's awesome." She whispers in disbelief.

We shuffle back into my mom's room and I shut and lock the door behind us. Jo seems nervous, but I don't think she has a reason to be. My mom's actually lucid and she seems like she's doing well. Looks like the doctors finally found the right meds and the correct dosages. "Mom, Amber…this is my wife Jo." I introduce them first and once I do that, I turn and nestle my hands underneath the baby's armpits so I can take her. Jo lets me and fittingly so, our baby is wide awake and looking around with the same striking green eyes that Amber has. I told Jo when she was a month old that she got her eyes from my side of the family. I stroke her light brown hair forward to make sure that she's presentable and plant a kiss on her cheek. Jo dressed her specifically for the occasion in a pair of black leggings, a pink tutu and a pink shirt, complete with pink socks and a pink headband. Sometimes Jo goes overboard with her outfits. "And this is our daughter…Lyla."

Amber stands up with her hands over her mouth and tears welling up in her eyes. She walks over to us and goes straight for the baby. "She's beautiful…She looks just like mom…"

"Bring her over?" My mom asks. Jo sticks around by the door with a satisfied smile on her face. I'm not surprised she's satisfied. This is exactly what she wanted. She wanted our daughter to meet her grandmother and her aunt. I stick one arm between Lyla's legs and hold her like that, bouncing her to keep her in a good mood as I walk over to my mom's chair. I bend down so she can hold her and that's officially when my mom starts to cry. "I have a granddaughter?"

"Yeah mom…she's three months old. Born on July 15th. Her name's Lyla Isabella." I take my hands off the baby and step back to see how she's doing. I'm not going to be shocked if she starts screaming because Jo and I spoiled her and now she doesn't like to go to anyone that's neither me nor Jo. But to my immense surprise, Lyla turns her little head and looks at my mom with her wide-eyed wonder. She coos at her but doesn't cry. "What do you think?" I ask.

"I think she's gorgeous. She looks like your sister." She slips her finger in the palm of Lyla's hand and stares down at her. "She's sweet." She's just staring at her like she's in shock. "…I hope this means you'll come around more, Alex. I'd like to be involved with her."

I sit back down on the bed next to my sister and rub the spot next to me until Jo comes over and sits down too. "We can fly out here once a month, Alex." Jo whispers to me. I nod.

"How's once a month sound, mom?" I ask.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

So I have my wife now, my daughter…I reconnected with my sister and with my mother and I think it might be possible for my daughter to grow up knowing her aunt and her grandma. I'm not going to make any promises and say that things will stay this way, but I will really try to keep up with the one month thing. It's not perfect, but it's a new beginning for me. The start of me having an actual family.