Outside the window,

a rendition of La Vie en Rose played on repeat, over and over again.

Meredith and Liz had already cried themselves into a sobbing mess.

Even Adam couldn't help but feel a lump in his throat.

Music has a way of hitting you hard like that sometimes.

And why wouldn't it?

If it didn't have that kind of power, how could those invincible people truly conquer everything in their path?

A soft drizzle started falling outside, pattering lightly against the ground.

Adam instinctively stood up, ready to grab an umbrella and head out.

Because he'd already figured out who was playing that music beyond the window.

At this moment, in this place, it couldn't be anyone other than Miss Tracy McConnell—no one else fit the bill.

"Move it, out of my way!"

Just then, a figure came barreling toward him, shouting as they ran.

"Ted?" Adam said, startled.

Ted didn't even glance at him. He brushed past Adam and bolted straight for the hospital exit.

"Did something happen?"

Adam's heart skipped a beat. He took off after Ted, catching up in just a few strides.

"Ted, what's going on?" Adam asked, jogging alongside him, not even breaking a sweat.

"Nothing's wrong—don't follow me!" Ted waved him off in a panic, picking up his pace.

By now, they'd made it outside the hospital.

"Could it be…?"

Adam's eyes landed on a small figure in the direction Ted was running toward. He slowed to a stop, a guess already forming in his mind.

In the rain,

under the corner of the hospital wall,

a petite figure slipped a small guitar into its case and clutched it to her chest.

This time, she didn't strum the strings or sing her sorrow. Instead, she let loose in the pattering rain, crying her heart out without restraint.

Ted dashed over, peeling off his jacket and holding it above her head, quietly shielding her from the wind and rain. He stood there, letting the water drip down on him without a word.

The small figure didn't seem to notice—or care—about anything around her. She just poured out her emotions, as if challenging the heavens to see who could drown in sadness first.

Adam watched from a distance, a wry thought crossing his mind: "Damn, that's some tender, romantic nonsense right there."

Ted had this quality about him—an almost deceptive charm.

At just the right moment, he'd pull off something gentle and romantic that caught you off guard and tugged at your heartstrings.

Like right now.

Even Adam had to give him props for that.

But those "key moments" were rare by definition. Most of life wasn't made up of them.

So, after a while, Ted's less savory side would inevitably slip out, hurting the women who'd fallen for his sweetness and charm.

Adam wasn't sure why Ted was even here—whether he'd come to stir up trouble or to visit Barney.

But he figured Ted must've been moved by Tracy McConnell's raw, heartfelt grief, which explained this whole dramatic rain-shielding scene.

Should I stop him?

Adam hesitated.

The guitar speaks the heart, and for Tracy McConnell to play like that, her love for her boyfriend Max must've been deep—profoundly moving, even.

She was, without a doubt, one of the good ones.

She'd already been dealt such a brutal blow. Did she really deserve to get hurt again by Ted's eventual mess?

He mulled it over, but his feet wouldn't budge to intervene.

How could he stop it?

"Leave it to me?"

Uh… yeah, no.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Ted, still out in the rain, was soaked to the bone by now, looking like a drowned rat.

Tracy finally managed to stem her tears. She wiped her face with a hand, glanced at Ted, and murmured a soft "thanks" before standing up and walking off.

"I'll walk you home," Ted offered, holding his jacket up, ready to keep shielding her from the rain.

"Thanks, but no need."

Her voice was quiet, but the resolve in it stopped Ted cold.

He just stood there, jacket in hand, staring dumbly as Tracy vanished into the rainy haze.

"Go back inside, man. Don't just stand there getting drenched," Adam called out from under the hospital awning.

Ted ignored him, still rooted to the spot, gazing off into the distance.

Adam rolled his eyes. Whatever. He wasn't going to bother.

Romantic types always had a flair for the dramatic—getting soaked in the rain was basically their default move.

He'd said his piece. If Ted wanted to stand there and drown, that was on him.

For a girl like Tracy, the further she stayed from Ted—and Adam, for that matter—the better.

Back in the hospital corridor,

Meredith, who'd been bawling her eyes out earlier, was gone. Only Liz remained, quietly weeping.

"Where's Meredith?" Adam asked.

"She went to get some answers from Shepherd," Liz replied softly. "Who was that just now?"

Adam filled her in on Tracy's story.

Cue the waterworks—Liz started sobbing again.

Adam grimaced. What a mess.

Growing up, he'd always loved that line from Dream of the Red Chamber where Jia Baoyu, the lipstick-loving romantic, said women were made of water.

Looked like there was some truth to it after all.

He was itching to bail, but politeness won out. "Liz, you okay?"

"I'm fine," she choked out between sniffles.

"Cool…" Adam perked up, ready to make his escape.

"Alex is struggling…" Liz blurted, unable to hold back. She slipped into vent mode.

Adam's mouth twitched. Fine, guess I'm sticking around for the psychology lesson—straight from the sunflower manual.

"How's he doing?"

"He's leaving," Liz said through tears. "He says he can't stay here anymore. The way everyone looks at him—he can't handle it. But I swear I don't look down on him…"

Adam listened quietly as Liz spilled the details on Alex's last few days.

Thanks to the sharpshooting husband of that gorgeous woman—and some timely surgery—everything had been snipped clean. Alex's recovery was going surprisingly well.

Aside from having to squat to pee from now on, he'd probably be fine.

But being a doctor? That was likely off the table.

The new urethra was artificial—a wound, really—and prone to infection. Someone like that couldn't step into a sterile OR.

Even if he could keep practicing, Alex probably wouldn't stay at the medical center.

This place was his personal hell now. Too many familiar faces. Unless you had nerves of steel, the before-and-after contrast would eat you alive.

Even if no one else meant anything by it, Alex would overthink every glance.

Leaving, starting fresh somewhere new where no one knew him—that wasn't a bad call.

Adam was about to offer some polite advice when his eyes narrowed. Out the window, in the rain, a wobbly figure stumbled from the bar across the street toward the hospital.

With his sharp eyesight, he recognized them instantly.

"Joe?"

Adam bolted for the hospital entrance again.

Screeeech!

Just as he was about to reach Joe, a car came tearing across the road, fishtailing wildly. Tires squealed against the wet pavement as it barreled toward the hospital, showing no signs of slowing down.

Joe, unsteady on his feet from whatever was wrong with him, didn't stand a chance of dodging.

"Watch out!"

As the car drifted and charged forward, Adam's senses kicked into overdrive—everything slowed like bullet time. He calculated in an instant: he could make it.

With a burst of speed, he grabbed Joe and yanked him out of the way, narrowly avoiding the crash.

The car, meanwhile, plowed straight into the hospital.

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