“And you’re everything I need.” Maura whispered, placing a soft kiss on Jane’s forehead.

Pulling back sharply, Maura composed herself. ‘Not now Maura.’ She scolded herself gently. “Now, let’s have some breakfast and we’ll work out what to do next?”

-/-

It took Jane over two hours, but she finally managed to tell Maura everything. Her nightmares about both Hoyt and Marino, sometimes individually, sometimes they were together. About the panic attacks she’d suffered, some minor to the point of vomiting, most to the point of unconsciousness, all of them triggered by something tiny; a knock on the door, the ring of the phone. The flashbacks, those were the worst. Her first day home, a car backfired in the street outside, a simple, everyday occurrence that sent her flashing back to the street in front of the police department, she could feel Marino’s strong arms wrapped around her, his words whispered into her ear and the volcanic fire as the bullet ripped through her. As the panic consumed her that first day, she fell to the floor, holding her wound and puzzled by the lack of blood on her hands.

Jane sipped her coffee thoughtfully and watched as Maura processed everything she’d said. She could see her big brain working feverishly.

“Say something Maur…” she whispered. The silence almost unbearable.

Maura looked up at her; if she were a lesser person, she would have continued to punish Jane with her silence, to allow the detective the experience she’d had the previous evening. Instead, she smiled warmly.

“I know a wonderful therapist…” she began, the tremor in her voice belying her nervousness. She knew it wouldn’t be easy convincing Jane to see someone.

“No.” Jane cut her off. “I don’t want anyone else to know.”

Maura shook her head. “No one else would know, you don’t have to tell anyone and he specialises in post-traumatic stress….”

“I said no, Maura.” Jane shook her head. There was no way she could risk having anyone at the precinct find out. “I’ll do anything else, but no shrinks.”

“I thought you might say that.” Jane frowned at her friend, who seemed remarkably cheerful about her reply as she rose to her feet and crossed to the coffee table, retrieving a plain envelope and returning to the breakfast bar.