Mac stormed past the nurse's station and into Will's room. He hobbled along behind her, cursing the pebble embedded in his left heel. She picked up her coat and shrugged it on, anxious to make it back to her apartment and the two bottles of red stowed in her 'Coping with Will' toolbox. She planned on drinking them both. Maybe she'd even stop by the store for a third. Thank God Charlie had given her tomorrow off.

She turned towards the door and saw Will, feet planted and arms outstretched. He wasn't going to let her pass.

'I can't let you go, Mac. Not like this.' He inhaled sharply at the fury and pain he saw in her eyes.

'You don't have a fucking choice, Billy. Get out of my way,' she commanded, grabbing one arm and nudging him sideways with her hip, trying to push him aside.

He planted his feet more firmly on the floor, using one arm to hold her away from his body in case she decided to take a swing at him. At that moment an image of his father came to him. John McAvoy was standing against the closed door of Will's childhood bedroom, cracking his belt menacingly, making sure Will knew what was coming. He would order Will to his feet, tell him to strip naked and whip Will's bare bottom black and blue. Afterwards Will would be left alone in his room, crying softly, not allowed out to come out until he could be quiet.

Will hesitated as he stood there but in the end he held firm. He wasn't his father. He wasn't going to physically hurt her. He simply had to make her understand.

'I need to talk to Habib,' he said quietly, shoulders squared in case she decided to head-butt him. 'I don't know what the fuck is going on but I need to find out. I don't want to hurt you anymore.'

He looked at her, his eyes filled with quiet desperation.

'What just happened – having you next to me, making love to you, that was the first time I've felt human in five years, Mac. Five years.'

He gazed at her intently.

'But I don't like feeling human. It scares the shit out of me. It makes me feel weak and I think it reminded me that you can hurt me.'

She nodded and felt some of her anger melt away. He was being honest, at least. He was trying.

He looked back down at his feet. 'That's what I hate...' Then he swung his eyes back up to her face and gazed at her fiercely. 'Not you - never you. I'm sorry.'

Her eyes were dark pools of green staring back at him and he was relieved to see that some of the anger was gone, and in its place, compassion.

'It's just that…' he looked away, his voice trailing off while he collected his thoughts. When he looked at her again the expression on his face was completely naked. He was literally baring his soul to her. 'If you hurt me again… I don't think I could survive,' he whispered.

She stared at him, understanding what he meant. He could only afford to put himself out there once more in this lifetime.

Could she actually promise she would never hurt him again? She knew they would both endure little hurts going forward, the cuts and scrapes that went along with their incessant bickering, but she vowed that none would ever be so deep, so gaping as to require anything as serious as a blood transfusion. In the depths of her soul she knew that if she were to be so supremely lucky as to get a second chance with him she would guard their love fiercely, never take it for granted again. She didn't know how she knew it but she was never more certain of anything in her life. There was no question as to where her future lay, if he would have her.

She laid her hand gently on his arm.

'I won't,' she promised. 'I'll never betray you again, Billy,' she said solemnly, her voice breaking. 'Not for as long as I live.'

'How can you be sure?' His eyes were sad but she saw hope as well.

'Because I've spent the last five years knowing what I lost.' Still gripping his arm, she took a step toward him. 'I want you back, Billy. I want us back.' She looked at him apprehensively, her heart racing. 'Do you?'

He didn't answer. This was the question that had lain between them ever since she'd come back to ACN. This was it, then. What he said now would alter the trajectory of his life. Was he prepared to go down this road again? He didn't know. What was the alternative? He felt like he was on a precipice overlooking a wide sea full of his love for her and though he wanted nothing more than to leap in, immerse himself in the healing power of her devotion, something in the back of his brain told him that to do so would be to risk absolute annihilation. He was safe on the precipice. Miserable, but safe. Then again, could he live the rest of his life that way, seeing her every day but not going home with her at night? Watching her find someone else? No. He'd have to fire her after all.

There was a knock at the door and the nurse walked in with his discharge papers. 'You're free to go,' she told him, observing their tear-stained faces and giving them a tight smile. 'Thank you,' Will said weakly.

As the door closed behind her he remained silent, gathering his thoughts. What would his life look like if he dove in to those waters? He imagined inspired workdays, broadcasts with her in his ear, nights full of love and passion. Christ, just the thought of being able to freely express his love for her again left him weak in the knees. He wanted that. He truly did. But he was afraid, terrified she would break him.

'I can't do this,' he said hoarsely, and her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.