“Hey, look who it is.” Parmenti saw her first, nudging his partner. “Doctor ***** Death.” He grinned at her, his lecherous eyes roaming freely over her form. “Where’s your girlfriend?” he sneered, watching as she moved closer.

“You running home to her now, late to cook her dinner I’ll bet.” Summers chimed in.

Maura pushed past both men fighting to control the emotion she felt bubbling just under the surface.

“I’ll bet Rizzoli is the man.” Parmenti grunted, drawing laughter from his friend. “Looking after her lil lady.” He winked at her as he slapped for her ***** and missing by millimetres. “Take care of you good does she?” Summers laughed, the innuendo dripping in his tone and making her feel physically sick. Despite herself, she hung her head, on the verge of running the final few paces to her car; she felt the warm sting of tears on her cheek. She turned the engine over quickly and sped away from the men, pulling into a side road a few blocks down and crying quietly into the darkness.

-/-

Jane awoke with a start, pillows falling from the sofa like confetti, blowing loose papers to the ground, unnoticed. Looking around the room, she was surprised to find herself alone. Getting to her feet, she scanned the coffee table for a note before padded silently to the bathroom, knocking gently on the door. “Maura?” she called, only to be greeted by silence. Pushing the door open, it was exactly how she’d left it earlier that day. From the hallway, a loud bang startled her.

Slumping onto the bed, she felt the familiar tightening in her chest, the rise of bile in her throat that preceded the panic attacks she’d grown so accustomed to. “Hold it together. Someone just slammed a door.” She whispered reaching for the rubber band on her wrist and snapping it viciously against her skin. Closing her eyes against the dizziness that rocked her, she reached for the journal that Maura had insisted on. If she was going to conquer this, she had to throw herself in head first. Gritting her teeth, she turned to a fresh page and, with shaking fingers, began to write.

Ok, well I guess I’m actually going to use this for its intended purpose. I just woke up and I’m freaking out. Cleared all my messages earlier, never been so scared of something in all my life, not of Hoyt or shooting myself. Those things, there was always someone who could help me, some way out, some cure. Or maybe I’ve just made my peace with dying.