[New Year's Day]

Jo stood in the dark room, only wearing a pair of knee length joggers, a long sleeved shirt and her fuzzy fur slippers, her hair in a tight bun. She put on the thick rubber gloves and yanked open the door to the oven, spraying some heavy cleaner into it, starting to scrub it furiously. She couldn't see the brownish liquid coming from the burnt spots, she only smelled the chemical that was stinging her nose, that made her face crumple up, but she didn't care. It took about two minutes of heavy scrubbing before her upper arm went limp with exhaustion, and that meant something as a surgeon. She'd been perfecting the complete and utter stillness and precision of her hands the last year, having to do torture shifts over and over and over again. It was hard and tedious work, and additionally, she got to hear how much she was hurting her patients for every second of it, hearing them scream piercingly, beg with her, cuss her, cry, double over and experience more pain with having moved an inch too much. The screams were trapped in her head and she couldn't get rid of them. So this crude and senseless work she was doing right now, was somehow soothing to her. She could scrub the oven all she wanted, he wouldn't scream back at her. She could be as rough, as hard, as uncaring as she wanted, nobody would be hurting because of her. During those torture sessions, even she had started losing hope that she was actually doing them good, helping them heal. It had been too much. And the screams. Piercing her eardrum. Jo felt how the tears kept running down her cheeks, but she didn't care. She didn't even bother enough to wipe them away. Jo let her arms hang for a bit, rest for a bit, before going over to the sink, washing the brush clean, tearing off some paper towel to wipe the oven dry, disgusted by the fat and rust and dirt coming off it, before getting a scraper and working on the hardest parts, the stuff that had accumulated over months in there, burning to charcoal with every next time they switched on the oven to put in a pizza or a turkey or whatever really. Charcoal. Huh. And there were the screams again. Jo sniffed, her nose having gotten runny. She lost one rubber glove, getting herself a paper towel and wiped her face clean, blowing her nose in it, before going back to work, doing another round of spraying and scrubbing wildly. This kinda soothed her soul. That's why she had always loved Ortho. Rough, full of strength and no fear, quick pains, effective healing. When Jo was done with the second round, she leaned her forehead against the cool outer surface of the oven, feeling a new round of tears surge up again. Those screams of pain she had heard all through the year, those weren't the worst though. The way Anne had screamed today, the way that sound had pierced into her eardrum, gripped at her heart, made her choke, those screams of loss were the worst. That pain was the worst kind of pain, losing someone so dear to your heart, someone you need so much that you think you can't live without that person. Jo sniffed again, shaking her head, not being able to stop. She stood there for a while before taking a deep sigh and walking over to the sink, getting of the rubber gloves and scrubbing her hands clean.

"This could definitely come across as borderline creepy, you know," Jo startled heavily when she heard Alex speak up, flitting her eyes at him quickly, seeing him leaning in the doorframe, as he so often did, just watching her. Jo smiled and turned back to the sink, desperately trying to get rid of her tear-streaked face, trying to carry her little meltdown off well. Her thoughts tumbled about wildly, trying to think back if she had heard him come in at one point, trying to find out when he had come in initially and had started watching her.

"You off tonight?" Jo asked him in a fake chipper voice.

"Mhm," Alex hummed back, staying at the door it seemed. Alright, so he definitely had realized she was crying. One of the best things about Alex. He didn't hover when she needed her space. But he never walked away just as far as he could.

"Maggie coming over?" Jo asked, desperately trying to think of something to say, even though it sounded weird to her.

"I wouldn't know," he gave her back sluggishly.

"How so?"

"Well, she tends to show up unannounced, every time she's had some kind of epiphany. But I think we're good today, I heard her rave on about a date she'd planned with Ethan to Callie today at lunch," he informed her. Jo nodded, drying her hands with the small kitchen towel, trying to dry off her last tears with the sleeve of her shirt, undetected. When she turned back to him, he had walked a little closer, rounding the island to make it to the fridge. "Beer?" Jo nodded gratefully.

"Anything from Meredith?" Alex shook his head, looking up at Jo in surprise. He watched her drop her shoulders the tiniest bit. They stood leaning against the kitchen counter, their shoulders rubbing against each other slightly, sipping at their beers, dwelling in the silent darkness. Alex knew well enough to take Jo's cues at times like these, so when he sensed her shoulder leaning onto him with a little bit more pressure than before, he slowly and gently moved his arm over to put on her back, and when she let her head rest on his shoulder, he side hugged her all the way. It took another few minutes before they had both put away their bottles and Jo had turned her body over a little bit to nestle into him, and Alex hugging her fully, kissing her head, letting her sob into his shirt eventually.

"Shhhshh," Alex shushed her quietly, continuously, rubbing her back lazily, feeling the wetness of her tears smearing on his neck and soaking his collar but he didn't care. He only cared about the trembling mess within his arms and her slowly but surely calming down with his advances of making her relax in his arms. It took another while until he realized that the tears had stopped coming anew, and the streaks started to dry, Jo's breathing syncing with his and her arms that were lying on his chest with her head having stopped shivering. He placed a sober kiss on her head, pushed a composed seeming Jo back towards the next bar stool and gently made her sit, bringing her some paper towel and a cup of water, waiting for her to clean herself up after drink up and refilling it for her. He stood between her thighs, letting her put her arms around his waist again instead of talking, letting her rest her heavy head on his belly.

"I can't do this anymore," Jo whispered into him, having closed her eyes, feeling so exhausted, her head heavy from crying, her eyes burning. She felt him stroke her head, go through her hair.

"You can," he gave her back, making her look up at him slowly, for she hadn't anticipated his reply.

"I can?"

"Yes," he nodded, closing his eyes for a split moment. "You can, you of all people can," he told her, before bending down and kissing her forehead. "You're so strong." He kept shaking his head.

"It's so hard, though," she felt her chin tremble again, but she knew she was out of tears for the night.

"I know, baby," he murmured without much voice behind it. At this, Jo got up from her spot and stood as close as possible in front of Alex, still being able to look him in the eye.

"She's all alone now," Jo sighed when Alex rested his forehead on hers.

"She's never alone. Nobody's ever alone. And if she doubts this only for a second, then I'll come and make her see that she at least has you, who's giving her heart and soul to this matter," he whispered, making Jo pull back and look at him in utter surprise.

"How did you know?" she asked him flat out shocked. Alex smiled sadly.

"Jackson told me," he reported back. Jo breathed out a small oh, looking down, their fingers entwined on both hands.

"I thought you were talking in general," she smiled, closing her eyes.

"I was," Alex told her, making her lean against him again.

"How can you?" Alex sighed. "How can you still do it? How do you do it?"

"I have you," Alex told her without fuss, though, right after she had shaped her question. At this, Jo looked up and narrowed her eyes in heartbreak. The good kind though. She cupped his cheek and pulled him down for a gentle kiss.

"I'm sorry," Jo breathed. "I know you've told me over and over again not to get into it that much," she actually started apologizing.

"Jo," Alex frowned and smiled at the same time. "I was just trying to prepare you for the worst. I knew you weren't gonna stop and that's okay. You're a doctor. You care about your patients. It'd be bad if you had no inkling of emotion in there," he nodded at her. "And I'm here and you have me, and you can let yourself fall. But then we're gonna get up again, together, and we'll go into work again, together, and you're gonna face Anne again, and you're both gonna be alright, because you can make it through this. And she will too," Alex smoothed his arms across Jo's back, rounding her shoulders then and holding onto her tightly, feeling her palms pressing against his shoulder blades, her elbows at his waist, her lips kissing his biceps. She nodded before whispering against him shakily.

"So, I'll have until tomorrow to be okay again?"

"You have as long as you need."