Unser's getting chemo at the local hospital and all I can say here is that at least there are no clowns on the ward. (A friend of mine once had the misfortune to take her chemo at a cancer center that led a clown run amok through the chemo bay. Forget flesh eating bacteria and medical mistakes: Clowns are the real menace of any hospital stay.) Tara comes by. She ran into Rat in the hall -- and it's sweet that Gemma made Rat stay, because you know that's what happened -- and thought she'd come check on Unser. He's touched by the thought, but would like to get the hell out of this Muzak-filled room of sick people. (A well thought out, if depressing, detail: the kid in the recliner next to him. Whoever composed this scene has an eye for compressing despair into a handful of details.) Tara leans in and says, "I was just on my way to feed the boys. You want to join me?" "Yeah. That'd be nice," Unser says. By the way, Dayton Callie is knocking it out of the park in this scene; he's really channeling the weariness and vulnerability that go along with being so sick.

Although Unser reels as he heads to the door, he insists on opening it for Tara and they toddle down the hallway veeeeeeeeery slowly. He asks about Tara's hand and she grouses that it's healing slowly. "Don't give up on that. Staying positive is the best cure," Unser says. "Reeeeeeally," Tara states dryly. "Shit, I hope not. If it is, I'm screwed," Unser replies and they both crack up. Then he has to take a seat, because he feels so bad. Unser then asks, "What's wrong, sweetheart? I know my Stage IV charm is magnetic, but that ain't why you come to see me." Tara laughs at how easily Unser called her out, and then lays her existential crisis on his frail shoulders: "I think of you as being this kind of watcher, the kind of guy that's seen it all, beginning to end. I guess I need a little impartial perspective. [Unser takes her hand.] I love Jax. My boys. I love being his wife. And I've embraced the club and the guys, and... I'm okay with the life." "Seems like you've left yourself off that list," Unser prods. Tara gets an "A-ha!" look on her face, then breaks down as she says, "I used to love... being a surgeon." And before she can go any further, poor Unser's had to sprint past her to toss his cookies. As Tara hands him a tissue, she asks, "You okay?" and the two of them end of laughing at the sheer absurdity of that query. Unser says, "Let's go feed the little people, okay?" Still laughing, they walk arm and arm down the hall.