Maura searched her friend’s body for something, anything to explain what was happening. She had lost weight that was evident. She removed the dressings from the bullet wound and studied it carefully, before reaching back into her bag for a pair of gloves. She cleaned the wound and redressed it carefully. Jane didn’t even flinch.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” She whispered as she closed her bag and turned the naked form of her best friend frozen in time and space in the middle of the room. Sighing heavily, she turned to the closet and retrieved a pair of sweatpants, a fitted t and a light sweater. Jane watched her carefully, her eyes never leaving the immaculately put together M.E as she shook the wrinkles from the shirt.

“I’m not dressing you.” She said as she laid the clothes out on the bed before turning to the dresser and retrieving some fresh underwear. “You’re not a child; I don’t know what I’ve done to warrant this treatment but you’ve barely said ten words to me all night.” She picked up her bag and headed towards the door. “But I don’t deserve this Jane. I just want to help you and it hurts that you won’t let me.”

Jane sat heavily on the bed as her legs gave up on her, crushing the carefully laid out clothes. Her heart hammered in her chest, her stomach doing somersaults. She glanced over her shoulder to the mirror and those mocking pink dots. As her breathing became more and more shallow, she forced herself back to her feet, blindly heading to the nightstand. As the panic and bile rose in her throat, she was vaguely aware of Maura’s shape still in the doorway, she could tell the doctor was talking but her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out the words.
With her sheet of pink sticky dots grasped in a white-knuckled fist, Jane staggered to the mirror, her arm extending as she gasped for more air, her lungs feeling as though they were on fire.

“Jane!” Maura’s shriek cut through the pounding in her ears as her legs gave out and the blackness consumed her once again.

Maura hit the floor next to her friend, scraping her knees on the wood floor as she slid to her side. Checking her pulse, Maura was stunned to feel it thrumming through her friends veins at an incredibly elevated pace.

“Oh Jane.”

She reached onto the bed and laid a pillow out, carefully settling Jane into a comfortable position on the floor before brushing her hair off of her sweat coated brow.

“Sleep sweetie.” She whispered, placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head and covering the shaking brunette with the comforter before returning to the lounge to fetch Jane’s laptop. By the time she returned, a gentle snore emanated from the detective and Maura smiled sadly.

‘Panic disorders and their correlation with post-traumatic stress disorder’ she typed slowly into the search engine. “I’ll help you Jane.” She whispered, glancing at the clock. Her friend, Doctor Beck would be able to put her in touch with a good psychiatrist but at almost midnight, she felt it too late to call. For the time being, Maura contented herself with medical facts before stumbling across a forum for people who suffered on a daily basis with debilitating panic disorders. Each new story she read broke her heart anew.

“I promise you Jane.” She looked down on the sleeping detective, “I won’t let you disappear.”