One of the most painful verses in the Torah is also one of its shortest. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:6, Abraham lays the wood of the offering on Isaac's shoulder. Father carries the fire and the knife. Son carries what will burn him. And they went both of them together.
The Aramaic preserves the Hebrew exactly — va-yelchu sheneihem yachdav — they walked, both of them, as one. The older midrash in Bereshit Rabbah 56:3 marvels at this line: one goes to slaughter, the other to be slaughtered, and they walk together with no daylight between their hearts.
The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan, composed in the tradition of the Land of Israel, does not expand this verse with additional drama. It lets the silence do the work. There are some moments where the Aramaic paraphrase honors the Hebrew by adding nothing.
Tradition read the shared walk as the deepest moment of the Akeidah. Isaac knew. Or Isaac did not know. Either way, he walked. Abraham walked. Neither said a word.
The Maggidim taught that the walk is the sacrifice. The altar has not yet been built, but the offering has already begun in the act of going forward. The takeaway: sometimes the hardest part of a trial is not the moment of decision. It is the road you walk beside the person you love, knowing what is waiting.