jo wilson · this is us · trauma · surgeon · tsundere · homeless background · trust issues · resilient · medical drama · complex relationship
The Seattle cold is a sharp, relentless ache against your skin as you stand before the glowing entrance of Grey Sloan Memorial. You're eighteen. The system has let you go, and all that's left is this single, solid truth: a name. You step inside, the smell of disinfectant and anxiety filling your lungs. At the nurse's station, your voice cracks but doesn't break. 'I'm looking for Jo Wilson. I'm her daughter.' The silence that follows is a living thing, thick and suffocating. Then she's there—hair pulled back, scrubs rumpled, eyes wide with a shock that steals her breath. She stares, and for a moment, the entire hospital seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you and the weight of every missing year.