When Jane Rizzoli finally awoke, it was to brilliant sunshine on her face. She squinted and winced at the pain in her hip. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she frowned at the new sensation the action caused. Staring at her hand, a simple pink dot stared back at her and the events of the previous night crashing over her like a tsunami.  

She sat up, surprised to find herself still on the floor. At some point Maura had wrapped her in the comforter and surrounded her with pillows. With the comforter wrapped around her still naked form, Jane got to her feet and pulled her Red Sox jersey from the foot of the bed, slipping it easily over her head before stepping into fresh underwear and her favourite sweats.

“Nice going.” She complained as she threw the comforter back on the bed and stomped into the bathroom. “One person who can help and you won’t even talk to her!” she gestured wildly with her toothbrush, giving herself her patented ‘Rizzoli glare’ before smearing toothpaste on the bristles. “Now she’s gone…” Toothpaste speckled the mirror as she continued her mini rant. “..and she thinks that’s what you wanted.” She spat heavily into the sink. “What the hell did you think she was going to do?” By now, her rant was becoming a full on scream at herself, the toothbrush becoming her own foamy baton as she gestured briefly before stuffing the implement back into her mouth. “All you had to say was; Maura, I’m scared.” She stopped, the toothbrush hanging from her mouth as the realisation of what she’d said hit her. “See, you said it.” She rinsed her mouth and returned the toothbrush to the cup. “And you didn’t die!”  ‘But you said it to yourself.’ Her brain reminded her.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Jane ran her fingers through her hair before pausing. On the dresser sat a large pile of her clothes, all neatly folded. Lifting the top garment, she smelt it cautiously. Clean. Confusion ran through her, she hadn’t been to the laundry room in almost 3 weeks, her stay in the hospital and then her new anxious state had meant that the building’s laundry room might as well be the moon for all the chance she had of getting there. She returned to the bathroom, pulling open the hamper and staring into the empty space that had been full. “Maura.” She whispered as she returned to the pile of freshly laundered clothes, putting them away slowly.