Amanda felt the scream rip from her throat. Jonathan teetered on the edge perilously as his arms windmilled, trying to propel himself backwards. Whether he had second thoughts or was trying to correct a fateful slip was inconsequential. Amanda rushed forward, the spot she had just vacated now occupied by a breathless Kendall.

Both her arms were outstretched as she raced forward. She was only vaguely aware of Kendall calling out Ryan's name over and over like a curious mantra. Her hand brushed the material of his coat, but it slipped through her fingers as Jonathan gained enough momentum to fling himself over the lip of the ledge.

Jonathan's head struck the edge full force, stunning him momentarily on his descent. He lay flat on the rooftop panting heavily. Amanda collapsed beside him, releasing tears of relief. He pushed himself up on shaky arms, leaning against the wall for support. He brushed the grit from his face as Amanda scooted closer to him.

"Jonathan..."

He rolled his eyes toward her, but his body remained motionless. His lungs burned as he gulped hungrily for air. Amanda waited until he regained some of his composure before addressing him again. "Are you okay?"

A short, humorless laugh was his only response. He hung his head, seemingly lost in thought while worrying an imaginary thread on his pantleg. He tilted his head sideways at her. "I don't know."

The raw honesty of his response surprised her. The undercurrents of emotions the held him hostage were usually kept hidden behind a thinly veiled curtain, his soulful eyes the only revelation to his innermost turmoil. Those wounded eyes bore into her now, sending daggers of sorrow coursing through her heart.

"What were you doing up here," she asked gently. Her eye was caught by a growing pool of red collecting on his hand. He ignored it, so she did, too.

"Thinking." He paused in reflection. "I seem to be doing a lot of that lately," he added almost as an afterthought.

"What about?"

"Nothing. Everything," was his enigmatic reply.

Amanda waited patiently for him to continue, laying a protective hand over her stomach instinctively. The pregnancy was forced to the recesses of her mind, forgotten in the wake of present events.

Jonathan lifted his eyes skyward as if searching for an answer. He closed them against the waning sunlight, basking in what little warmth it offered. He lowered his face and turned towards her suddenly and sharply. The deep gash in his forehead glistened with fresh blood. "Do you ever-" His words died on his lips as he sunk back against the wall once again.

Her hand left her stomach and found its way to his arm. He jerked away from the contact unconsciously. Amanda did not take offense at a reaction that was so ingrained in him, it was second nature. Jonathan looked at her apologetically nonetheless.

"I don't know why I do that." He sighed. "That's not entirely true," he whispered more to himself. "I just wish I could stop. I'm so sick of it all."

That last statement caused her stomach to grow sour. She had wanted to believe that the slip was just that - a slip, but now she wasn't so sure. Her concern grew exponentially. There was no time left to confirm or deny her suspicions. Jonathan's attention was diverted somewhere beyond her. She followed his line of sight to that of his older brother, towering above them both.

"Hockett...My God, Hockett." Ryan knelt down in front of his younger brother gingerly. He grasped Jonathan's hands in his own, noticing the drying blood, but not drawing attention to it. "What happened?"

Jonathan's eyes rose to meet Ryan's. His mouth split into a sad smile that he wore much too often. His mouth began to form the words, but no sound came out. He shook his head instead, a trail of blood running into his eye, causing an immediate stinging sensation. He swiped at it almost angrily, seeming to realize he was bleeding for the first time.

Ryan dug in his pockets and withdrew a handkerchief. He pressed it firmly against the side of his brother's head. Jonathan winced at the pressure, but did not draw back.

"What happened, Hockett," Ryan repeated softly.

Jonathan was silent for so long that Ryan contemplated repeating himself yet again. But he restrained himself, knowing that Jonathan was forming his answer. As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything. He followed his brother's gaze over his shoulder and knew at that moment what was running through his mind.

"I miss her, too." A full year had passed - one long year. And the healing for Jonathan had yet to begin. As hard as it was for Ryan - if he was the one that had found his sister...Jonathan had lost his sister and best friend in one heart-breaking moment. And it nearly destroyed him. It was eating him up inside, devouring the very essence of his life right before their eyes, as if Jonathan's life was the one taken and not Erin's. Ryan couldn't explain it, but Jonathan always seemed to feel things more deeply and fully than the rest of the world. It made the scars all that much deeper.

Ryan loved his brother more than he could ever put into words. He cradled Jon's head in the crook of his arm as he continued to hold pressure against the head wound. Jonathan's chest hitched as he drew in shaky breaths. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No. I'll be okay, Ryan." His voice was small and far away.

"Hockett, you have to."

"No," he protested weakly. "Really, I'm fine."

Ryan recognized Jonathan's words of denial as the defense mechanism that they were. But his first concern was to get him off the roof and to stop the bleeding that stubbornly refused to cease. "That cut's pretty deep. You're going to need stitches."

Relieved that Ryan was concentrating on the physical instead of the mental aspects of the damage inflicted, he reluctantly agreed. He struggled to stand, limp with exhaustion until Ryan's strong grip eased him to his feet.

Amanda studied the exchange between the two brothers. She admired - and envied - their deep bond. Ryan threw her a furtive glance, loaded with meaning. She understood. Jonathan needed a quiet and inconspicuous exit. She implored the ladies of Fusion to oblige, deflecting questions she couldn't answer.

She watched from around the corner as Ryan led Jonathan through the offices of Fusion. Jonathan's eyes never left the ground, but Ryan's found hers. He mouthed a silent "thank you" before the elevator doors slid home.

"I hate being me."

It was a such simplistic, yet direct statement that it took Ryan by surprise. There was no need to ask what his brother meant by this. Some people strolled through the plateaus of life, and other like himself seemed to climb an uphill slope, punctuated by peaks and valleys. But there were the misfortunate few like Jonathan that seemed to have to fight up their Mt. Everest on a daily basis. A tragic figure like that of Sisyphus struggling to push the rock up the mountain, backsliding all the way.

"Does it ever end?" It was a rhetorical question, or at least, one that Ryan did not have a response to. "I want it to end."

Ryan took in all of Jonathan: his wounded expression, his legs dangling over the edge of the examination table like a little boy's, the way he hugged himself, his hands clutching at the material of the hospital gown as if he might fall apart if he let go. "Hockett, you're scaring me."

Jonathan's eyes pierced his. The gaze was so intense that he literally felt the heat that radiated from them. "Sometimes I scare myself." He averted his eyes, feeling the shame and embarrassment of his confession welling up inside of him.

"What happened up on that roof?"

"It's over. It's done."

"Yeah, it could've been done forever." Ryan forced his brother to focus back on him. "Is that what you had in mind?"

"What? No! No," Jonathan protested, his face twisting into a scowl. "Did you think -" Jonathan eyes widened in recognition. "I am not - I am NOT trying to off myself, if that's what you're thinking."

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know what to think. You've been in a very dark place lately and I'm worried for you. I have no idea how to help you."

Jonathan set his jaw firmly, working the muscles ardently. "I'll be fine."

"Jon..."

"Really, Ryan-"

"Bullshit!" Ryan's sharp tone caused Jonathan to snap to attention. "I don't know how to help you," Ryan repeated softly. "All I know is that I love you and it rips my heart out to see you like this."

"Ryan," Jonathan's voice took on a pleading quality, "you have spent a large part of your life taking care of me. I've told you before, you don't have to fight my battles for me. It's time for me to fight my own battles."

"What if this is a battle you can't win on your own, Hockett?"

The question did not have a chance to be answered. Julia entered carrying an armload of supplies. "We have got to stop meeting like this, Jonathan."

Julia's attempt at cutting the palpable tension was obvious. Ryan took the opportunity to make a hasty exit. "I'll let Julia do her thing. I'll be back."

Ryan nearly collided with Dr. Martin. "Ryan, I was just coming to see you." Joe led Ryan away from the door with a fatherly hand on his arm. "Did Jonathan tell you what really happened?"

"Not exactly." Ryan kept one eye on the window, becoming absorbed in the image before him as Julia irrigated the wound. He flashed back to the not-so-distant past as his brother lay on another hospital bed, in a similar pose, as Ryan stood over him trying to figure out how to tell him about the brain tumor. The memory was so vivid he was momentarily transported back there. This time there was a different malady affecting his brother - one that was elusive and not so easily extracted.

"Was it intentional? Do you think he's a danger to himself?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Without concrete proof, I can't legally keep him here. But being his next of kin, if you even suspect - well, we could keep him here for 72 hours for evaluation."

"I can't do that. He would freak!" Ryan shook his head adamantly. "No. No, he'd be worse off than he already is." The fragility of Jonathan in that moment became so apparent that Ryan felt his brother should have a 'handle with care' sign on him. Jonathan would shatter like a piece of glass if held too tightly. Whether it was right or not, the decision was made. An idea suddenly came to mind. "Could you keep him overnight?"

Dr. Martin pondered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could keep him overnight for observation. Given his neurological history, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."

Ryan clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Joe. It'll give me more of a chance to feel him out. See what's going on his head."

Joe merely nodded. "I'll start the paperwork. And then I'll be back to take another look at him."

"Okay. I'll break the news."

Ryan pushed the door open slowly. The doctor was just finishing up the last stitch. Jonathan remained immobile, but his wary gaze pinned Ryan to the spot where he stood. "Hey, Hockett..." The doctor breezed past him without a second glance. Ryan shoved his hands deep into his pockets and attempted a light tone. "How many?"

Jonathan's stare never faltered. "Eighteen," he said evenly.

"Eighteen? Wow! Most I ever got was sixteen." Ryan was stalling, delaying the inevitable. Jonathan's eyes narrowed accusingly, aware that something was amiss.

"So am I free or did your unstable brother get committed?"

Ryan's mouth opened in surprise. His brother's ability to read him was uncanny. "What? No! Nobody's committing you."

"Dammit, Ryan, don't lie to me!"

Ryan hoped he wasn't as transparent as he felt. "I'm not. Nobody's committing you. But, Joe does think it's a good idea if you stay overnight for observation."

"Right...no loss of consciousness, no seizures, no dizziness. Not even a headache. They're not even worried enough to get a scan. But I'm staying for observation." The suspicion in his voice made Ryan wince.

"Well, ya know, last time you hit your head, it was like three weeks before you had a seizure."

Jonathan nodded curtly, effectively ending the conversation. Ryan could see the resignation written all over his brother's face. It was same look he had as a little boy when he realized there was no escaping the belt, the poison sandwiches, the...everything that was their childhood. It was utter defeat and desolation. A capitulation of the spirit.

Ryan let his head drop to hide the tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them back and grabbed Jonathan's hand in his own. "I'm staying. Not just tonight. All the way. You are not alone."

Jonathan eyes fixed on the ceiling, by all appearances ignoring Ryan. But Ryan knew this wasn't the case. The internal wrestling match was underway. Ryan couldn't help but wonder which side would win out - the Jonathan that wanted to reach out and move past all the junk, or the one who wanted to give in and be done with it all. Jonathan's very life depended on the outcome. One thing remained constant. "I will not leave you," Ryan said emphatically. "Hold on to that."

Jonathan never lowered his gaze, but the squeeze of his hand that Ryan felt was all the answer he needed.

Amanda stepped tentatively across the threshold. The night before was washed away, dulled by the dawning of the sunlight. Jonathan was propped up in bed, facing away from her. He turned with the creaking of the door, the white bandage standing out prominently under the fluorescent lights.

"Amanda." Jonathan's neutral greeting caused her to hesitate at the end of the bed. He scooted over, lying on his side to make room for her beside him. She took his outstretched hand and eased herself down next to him.

"I wasn't sure if I should come," she confessed timidly.

"Well, I'm glad you did. After yesterday, I wouldn't blame you if you ran screaming in the other direction."

"I did some screaming, but run - never. Not from you."

"You're amazing, you know that? I don't know why you're still here."

"Because I care about you." Because I love you, was what she really wanted to say, but she didn't know if he was in a place to return the sentiment. Asking him to would be unfair at this moment, but it would still hurt not to hear it returned.

"You deserve better than me. I treated you so badly." He stroked her hair lovingly, a touch that sent waves of emotion coursing through her. She sat up suddenly, afraid her body would betray her feelings.

"We've been over this. No, you really didn't. You were honest. I admit, that is a new concept given my lousy luck in love."

"C'mon. There were some decent guys in there I'm sure."

She began ticking them off one by one on her fingertips. "Let's see...there was Jamie, but I torched that relationship."

"Really?"

"Yeah, crash and burn all the way. There was Josh...sorta. But now he's so far up Zach and Kendall's ass it's hard to see where he ends and they begin. And JR...Well, JR is just a self absorbed ass."

Jonathan laughed, a concept foreign to him in the recent past. Amanda was grateful to see that side of him, if only for a brief moment. "And then there's me...a screwed-up ass."

"I don't see you that way at all." Amanda brushed an errant lock of hair back from his forehead and lightly traced the edge of the bandage.

"Ha! I seem to remember a time not so long ago in the courthouse that you basically compared me to your mother."

"That didn't come out the way I meant it and you know it." She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Hmmm...comparing the guy you're dating to your mother. Sounds like a Freudian nightmare." Jonathan's laughter was infectious. She joined in, cherishing the sound.

It was funny the difference twenty-four hours could make. One short day ago the man before her was a completely different person, weighed down by all the pain and hurt of a lifetime. But this Jonathan - this was the Jonathan that was buried deep inside. The one that only a handful of people like herself and Ryan got to see. And one day ago she couldn't even entertain the notion of being a mother. Now she wanted nothing more in the world. And she wanted to share that with Jonathan. She grasped his hand, tracing small circles with her thumb.

Jonathan furrowed his brow. "Why so serious all the sudden? What's on your mind?"

"There's something I need to tell you. I didn't know how to tell you really."

He cocked his head at her. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

"Yeah." Amanda blew out a shaky breath. "The thing is, I'm -"

Ryan burst through the door, nearly spilling the coffee as the door rebounded. "Hey, Hockett!" Amanda swallowed the words she was about to utter. She rose to greet Ryan. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes! No!" Amanda and Jonathan said simultaneously.

Ryan fumbled a bit, unsure of what to do. "I could leave. Come back," he offered.

Amanda spoke up first. "No, it's okay. I have to go anyway. We'll talk later," she directed towards Jonathan.

Ryan waited for the door to close completely before he spoke again. "Sorry about that, man. It seemed like a pretty heavy conversation."

"I'm not really sure, but I think it was about to be." Jonathan crossed his arms and chewed on his bottom lip. He was clearly mulling over her words, trying to work out what was weighing on her mind. The dull ache in his head was blossoming into a stabbing pain, so he decided to file it away to try to process later.

"So you'll probably get to go home today?"

Jonathan glared at Ryan and rubbed his head absently. Mild head injury or not, he knew that an overnight stay was unnecessary. And he was positive Ryan had something to do with it. "I guess. If you'll let them let me go."

"Jon, I had nothing to do with it." Ryan hated lying to his brother, but he saw no other alternative. Blurting out the truth would just have upset him more. Jonathan's arms tightened around his midriff, the muscles taut with strain.

"Be real, Ryan. I'm your brother and you're a terrible liar."

Ryan knew there was no sense keeping up the ruse. Jonathan's eery ability to read others would not be denied. He placed his coffee cup on the stand beside the bed. "Okay, Hockett. I'll be honest with you if you'll be honest with me. But you first. What were you really doing up on the roof yesterday?"

"Haven't we already had this conversation?"

Ryan contemplated that for a moment. "Well, I've asked the question, but I don't think I ever got a straight answer."

"Ryan..." his voice cracked, trailing off.

Ryan scooted closer until his face was only inches from his brother's. "Jon, it's just you and me here. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I know." Jonathan worked his jaw, eventually letting out a long and heavy sigh of resignation. "I went up there to - I haven't been up there since..."

Jonathan paused to collect himself. He drew his arms even tighter around himself and let his eyes fill with unshed tears. He blinked them away as soon as they appeared. "I needed to be...I wanted to..."

"Go on, Hockett. You're doing fine," Ryan gently encouraged.

"God, Ryan, I miss her so much. Every single day I wake up and it's like I lose her all over again. I just want all the hurt to stop. It can't go on like this anymore."

Ryan laid a brotherly hand on his shoulder. His voice took on the soft tone that seemed reserved only for Jonathan. "Erin wouldn't want you to keep going like this, either."

"I know that, Ryan. I do. I thought maybe if I went back to the place where she...maybe I'd feel closer to her somehow.

"I took the diary up there with me."

"Did you read it?"

"I couldn't bring myself to. And I almost lost it. It fell out of my pocket. When I went to grab for it, I slipped." Jonathan said this matter-of-factly, as is merely commenting on the weather.

Ryan let this information sink in. "So you weren't trying to..."

Jonathan shook his head fervently. "No. No. No. I just thought if I went up there, forced myself to remember... I don't know, Ryan. I don't know when I became like this. I have to find a way to move on, don't I?"

Ryan's tongue flicked out and moistened his dry lips. "Everybody grieves differently. There is no timetable. No right or wrong." He watched as his brother took deep, shaking breaths. Ryan recognized that he was on the verge of breaking down. A memory so powerful flashed through his mind that it stole his breath for a second. Ryan took Jonathan's hand. "In some ways you were always like this, Hockett."

The puzzlement was written all over Jonathan's face. Ryan pressed on, both his hands now enclosing his little brother's hand. "See, I remember the little boy peeking around the corner as Patrick beat on me, crying. Crying not because he was scared or hurt, but for me, for my pain. You've always done that, Jonathan. You've always internalized not only your own pain, but others', as well." Ryan paused unsure how much to reveal. "That was the only time I ever let the bastard see me shed a tear. I wasn't crying for me, but for that little boy that had such love and compassion in his heart that he couldn't stand the thought of someone else hurting.

"Braden and I, Erin - we all protected you because we all knew somehow that if Dad ever went after you... But he did anyway. I left and Braden left, and Erin was too little, and now - and now you're paying for my failures, my sins."

This time Jonathan couldn't keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks. The pillow made a crisp whisking sound as he shook his head against it. "No. No, Ryan. None of this is your fault."

"And it's not yours, either."

They looked at each other for a long time, both needing to hear those words. Their hands remained entwined, but the connection of the two went beyond the mere physical realm. Ryan felt the lump in his throat grow as he watched his brother trying to compose himself once again.

"What's say we get you dressed and get out of here?"

"Now it's your turn to be honest with me. Did you have something to do with me staying in here?" Jonathan's eyes searched his for the answer he already knew to be true.

Ryan dipped his head and brought it back up. "Yes."

"Why? Did you really think..."

"I didn't know what to think," Ryan admitted.

"Do you believe me now?"

"God, yes. I just - I want you to be safe."

"I know," Jonathan conceded. He threw the covers back and started to rise. He stumbled a bit and Ryan reached out a hand to steady him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little dizzy." Ryan face must have shown his alarm because Jonathan added hurriedly, "I haven't been up in twenty-four hours, Ry. I just got up too fast. Okay?"

"Okay."

Jonathan moved slowly over to the free-standing closet to retrieve his clothes which left Ryan speaking to his back. "Hockett, could you do a favor for me?"

Jonathan froze with his hand on the door handle. He half-turned. "Sure. What?"

"Why don't you come home with me, stay a few days," Ryan suggested tentatively. He watched his brother's shoulders drop. "Annie and Emma are at some mother-daughter mountain retreat over Christmas break. I could use the company."

Jonathan pulled his clothes from the closet and crossed the room. He sat on the bed facing away from Ryan. "Are you sure it's not because you want to keep an eye on me?"

"Maybe a little," Ryan acknowledged. "But, for the next week I am living like a bachelor. It turns out, I'm not that good at solitude."

"Have you ever not been in love," Jonathan ribbed while pulling on his pants. He leaned over to tie his shoes, the hospital gown gaping open, exposing his back. The thin white scars were barely visible, but still present, from when Patrick had graduated from fists to belt buckles.

Ryan was grateful that his brother's back was turned so he didn't see him wince, forgetting that he had been asked a question. Jonathan fought with the tie on the back of the gown unsuccessfully. "Here, let me," Ryan offered. He expertly picked out the knot and the gown dropped to the floor.

Jonathan stood up and turned as he pulled on his shirt. Before it dropped to his waist, Ryan got a glimpse of the angry red pucker of skin where the bullet - the bullet that came from the gun he was holding - had ripped through his stomach, lines extending vertically from it where it was surgically removed. Another oblique, faded scar from the self-inflicted stab wound. His body was a virtual roadmap for a lifetime of suffering, an outward reminder that he could never escape from.

Ryan forced himself to avert his eye before his brother caught him staring. It was only then that he realized Jonathan was talking to him. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I said, you know I was kidding, right," he said bemused.

"Yeah, of course." Ryan shook off the brutal images. "So, have you given any thought to my offer?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Ryan echoed in disbelief. He didn't expect Jonathan to agree so easily.

"Yeah, but only because you want some company. It's not because I need a babysitter. Okay?"

"Okay."

"There's one problem, though."

And here it comes, Ryan thought. "What's that?"

"I don't have any of my stuff."

Ryan sighed in relief. "That's easy to fix. You still have a few things at the penthouse. And I can give Amanda a call and see if she'll drop by what you're missing."

Jonathan seemed satisfied with that solution. "Well, what are we waiting for? Take me to the newfound bachelor pad."

Ryan chuckled. "Alright, Hockett. Let's get you sprung."

"I'll be waiting."

"Don't go anywhere without me."

"I don't plan on it."

Neither do I, Ryan thought to himself.

There was a sharp rapping on the door, followed by a loud thump and cries of various expletives. "Come in! It's open," Jonathan called out.

Amanda struggled through the door balancing two suitcases. "I could have used a little help here."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said through his amusement. "I wasn't thinking."

"That's right you weren't. But I'll forgive you since you're injured." Her irritated demeanor melted away instantaneously. "Where do you want me to put them?"

"Just leave them there. I would hate to hear what came out of your mouth if I asked you to lug them upstairs."

Amanda let out an exasperated groan. She plopped herself on the coffee table across from the couch.

Jonathan grew serious. "Thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it."

"It was no trouble. I was happy to do it." Jonathan shot her a look. "Alright, I was happy to until I dropped the suitcase on my foot."

Jonathan took her soft, delicate hand in his. "You are wonderful, you know that?"

Amanda smiled somewhat shyly at him. "Yeah, I know."

"Wow, way to be humble," he teased.

"Well, when you're as wonderful as I am, humility is not in the equation." Amanda grew pensive. "So why are you staying with Ryan again?"

Jonathan exhaled noisily. "Well, he claims that with Annie and Emma being gone he's lonely."

"But he wants to look out for you?"

"I guess that's a big brother's prerogative," he shrugged.

"And you're alright with this?" Amanda knew he detested being anything other than self-reliant.

He shrugged again. "I saw it for what it was. And besides, maybe it'll do both of us some good. Except," he said with mild annoyance, "Ryan has made me promise not to get off this couch. So I have been condemned to channel surfing through bad reruns and old movies. Care to join me?" Jonathan waved the remote around enticingly.

"As fun as that sounds, I can't stay." Amanda searched the penthouse with her eyes. "Where is Ryan anyway?"

"Out getting dinner. He cooks about as well as Annie makes coffee. And he won't let me do anything, so..." Jonathan saw Amanda shifting uncomfortably and realized she was only half listening to his attempted witty repartee. He suddenly recalled their earlier unfinished conversation. "You were about to tell me something earlier today. What was it?"

"I'm not sure if this is the right time. You had a pretty rough day yesterday and you're still recovering," she indicated the bandage above his brow.

"Now's as good a time as any." Jonathan studied her. Amanda seemed nervous and on-edge which was completely unlike her. Even under the most grueling of circumstances she was usually cool and collected. It was one of the many things he loved about her. She countered his high-strung tendencies perfectly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me anything."

Amanda hesitated. "I don't know, Jonathan. Maybe it should wait."

He grasped her hands and pulled her closer to him. "Hey, give me the chance to be there for you for a change like you've been there for me so many times." He looked deep into her eyes and she could see the affection in them reflected back at her.

Despite the misgivings she was having, and all the ways the scenario had played out in her mind, she decided to break the news. "Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I don't expect anything from you. You want in on this, then great. If not, I'll completely understand. There is no pressure, okay?"

The knowledge of what she was about to say dawned on him. His eyes widened and his mouth went dry. "Are you-"

"Yes. Jonathan, I'm pregnant."