Mackenzie almost leaves several times in the few minutes between arriving at the office and when Dr. Habib's door finally opens. It's only the pressure of Will's hand on her thigh and the relieved smile he had when she told him that she would go earlier that morning that kept her in her seat.

Dr. Habib had offered to squeeze them in that morning, so Will had returned to Mac, who was stretched out in bed, dropping his hand so it rested on the small of her back and rubbed small circles into her skin.

"He can take us this morning," Will had said, half afraid that she would back out. But she had nodded, and he had been relieved.

Lonny had met them in the lobby of their building, and he had carefully hugged Mac.

"How you feeling?" He asked.

"Better," she told him honestly.

"For the record," Lonny added as they climbed into the car. "You're not allowed to go into any more places alone."

"That is a rule I can get behind," Will muttered as Lonny closed the door behind them. He didn't ever want to be as terrified as he was when she was in that bank. "No more banks for you."

Mac didn't say anything, just rested her head against Will's shoulder and nodded. They didn't speak for the rest of the car ride to Dr. Habib's, just sat silently, Mac's head on Will's shoulder and their hands tangled together in Mac's lap.

Lonny enters first, and tells them he'll be waiting for them in the waiting room and Will leads Mac into the inner office with a guiding hand on the small of her back.

"Hello Will, Mackenzie, how are you today?" Dr. Habib greets when they step inside.

"Fine," Mac answers with a polite smile, and Will can already see her walls going up. He sighs inwardly. This was going to be painful.

"We're better than we were a couple of days ago," Will adds, and as soon as Mac's settled in her chair, he picks up her hand and rubs his thumb across the back.

"I heard what happened, Will filled me in a little," Dr. Habib says. "How are you feeling?"

"Physically?" Mac asks. "I'm okay. Sore. But okay."

"I guess the second question is emotionally then," Dr. Habib says.

"I'm…" she starts to say that she's fine, but she knows that's not true. She's not. She's not. When she closes her eyes she can see The Captain with his smirk and his gun, and then it changes and she's in the streets of Islamabad again, only Jim doesn't get to her in time, or it's Will who is being stabbed or shot, and she can't close her eyes. She can't. After her nightmare, she only slept in bits and pieces, afraid to close her eyes for more than ten minutes at a stretch. She finally drifted off to a relatively peaceful sleep towards the early hours of the morning, and she's exhausted and sore and cranky.

She doesn't want to be sitting here with this kid who has no idea what it's like to be standing in the path of a bullet or a knife.

"Mackenzie?" Dr. Habib asks gently.

"I keep seeing him when I close my eyes," she finally say. "The guy, the ringleader. I called him the Captain, and I can see him when I close my eyes."

"Were you afraid of him?" Habib asks. "In the bank? Were you afraid of what he'd do to you?"

"He held a gun up to her head," Will exclaims, and she can see his free hand, the one not currently warm in hers, clench into a fist. "Of course she was fucking afraid of him!"

"Before that, before he held the gun to your head," Dr. Habib corrects.

"He had a temper," Mac says softly. "I could tell he had a temper. And I was afraid of…I was afraid that exactly what happened would happen."

"Were you afraid like that when you were embedded?"

"No," she whispers. "That was…I didn't think it was possible that something might happen to me until I was hurt over in Pakistan. And even after…no, I was more afraid in the bank than I was while I was embedded. I kept thinking of Will outside and I couldn't stand the thought…I didn't want…" She shakes her head. "No."

Mac's quiet when they leave Habib's office. She doesn't say much when she climbs into the car or during the ride home, and she's silent in the elevator up to their apartment. She drops her purse on the front table by the door and doesn't say a word as she goes back to their bedroom.

Will has two choices. He can give her space or he can follow her, and he's not sure which one is the right one, but the truth is that he can't stand to be away from her right now. Not yet. Not when he has the image of her with a gun to her head filling his thoughts and making it hard for him to breathe.

He follows her down the hall and finds her just sitting on the edge of their bed.

"You okay?" He asks, but that's a stupid question. "Do you need anything?" That's a better question. She reaches out her hand in response and he takes it, sitting down next to her and letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

"I hate them, they're dead and I hate them," she says softly. "And I can't get them out of my head, and I want them out of my head."

"You should take one of those pills tonight to help you sleep," he answers, brushing a kiss to her hairline and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "You need to sleep."

"Yeah," she sighs. "Yeah."

"The good news is that we have the whole day with nothing to do," Will says brightly. He's not used to be the upbeat one in the relationship, and he doesn't like it. He's rewarded with a small smile from his wife.

It's not much, but he'll take it.

They're curled up on the couch an hour later, Mac's favorite movie, The Philadelphia Story, playing when the lobby buzzes.

"Are you expecting someone?" Will asks, and Mac shakes her head. He extracts himself from around her and crosses over to the front door. Mac hits play again and glances up when Will walks back in. "It's Jim. He's on his way up."

"What's Jim doing here?" She asks and Will shrugs. Jim comes in a minute later, his hands shoved in his pockets, and Mac can tell that something is wrong.

"What's going on? Is everything okay at the office?" Mac asks.

"Oh it's fine, don't worry about anything. We've got it under control," Jim assures. "I just...I wanted...I needed to make sure you were okay." And Mac's throat constricts, and she climbs carefully to her feet and wraps her arms around Jim.

They've been through so much together, her and Jim. She owes him so much. If this experience was bringing up bad memories for her, it also had to be bringing up things for Jim too.

"I'm okay," she tells him. "I promise."

"Yeah, okay, yeah," Jim says, jerking his head. "You should sit though. You were just shot. You need to sit. I should go. I just wanted...I should go."

"No," Mac says, her grip firm on his arms. "We're just watching a movie. Come on, we were just arguing about what to order, you can be our tie breaker." Will claps a hand on Jim's back and Jim moves towards the couch with his arm still around Mac.

"I'll go order food," Will announces as Mac gets herself comfortable on the couch. When it's just herself and Jim, she reaches out and squeezes his hand.

"Want to talk about it?" She asks. Jim shakes his head, and she doesn't push. "I am okay. We're not in Pakistan. We're in New York and it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it's over and I'm okay."

She just needs to start believing that herself.