I can't remember the last time I got a good night's sleep. I frequently have peeked on my clock's glowing red arms that preach of three AM, and it has taken more than a good beer to put me back to sleep after I wake up in a sweat at four.
It's the nightmares. I just can't get past them. I feel so stupid for admitting it, but I see Hoyt's face every night. Every night, he cackles as he brings his silver scalpel to my throat and makes an incision deeper and longer than the joke he made. Every night, I wake up just before I suffer blood loss. Not only do I hate living through this day after day, but I hate that I feel so weak for it. This whole Hoyt thing happened over a year ago, and he returned about seven months ago. Shouldn't I be over it by now?
At work, I know Frost has been looking at me strangely. He knows I'm tired. He can see it in my face. My eyes have always betrayed me. I can hide emotions, bottle them inside me, but my eyes always plead to give it away. When we were sitting at our desks, I caught him staring at me; full on staring. If I hadn't know better, I would've thought he was trying to check me out.
"What?" I asked sharply. I'm always too curt with Frost. I feel badly about it, as he's the only one who tolerates me so much. Yet, with this lack of sleep, I can barely manage to speak, let alone contain my rage.
"Nothing. You just look tired." Frost was like a kicked dog; he immediately got back to work, shaking.
This had gone on for days, with Frost, Korsak, and of course Maura coming to my desk and informing me of what I already knew, that I looked "tired". Maura had conjured many of her witchy potions for me to take, telling me it would make me sleep. I'm not drinking anything that isn't water or a beer from that woman.
"Just take it!" Maura tried to establish a case with me on why I should drink her 'nautral herbs and vitamins', but I wouldn't have any of it. I guess you can say I'm thickheaded. Just a slight bit.
"I'm not taking anything from your dead fridge." I threw the bottle back at her, averting my attention toward the pile of paperwork threatening to swallow me whole.
I trudged on for the remainder of the day, believing my car was in autopilot. I don't remember driving to my apartment, but I remember opening the keys and my intiution taking over.
Something wasn't right.
My body froze, and I knew someone else was in here. Don't ask me how, but I knew. My heart pounded against my chest like a snare drum, the pulsing of my blood the only thing I could hear. Joe was at my feet, but I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes to his level. I was listening not just with my ears, but with my eyes. What was wrong? I couldn't place my finger on it, but I knew something was not right here.
My bedroom.
I took my gun from the holster, arms pointed straight out. I entered my bedroom and nearly pulled the trigger when I found the surprise.
My bed.
There was someone on it.
However, that someone was the person who would least want to harm me. Who, if anything, wanted to protect me from fear. Here she was, inducing it. Maura.
"I almost shot you!" I roared, so angry that my veins were protruding from my thin neck.
"I'm so glad you didn't." Leave it to Maura to be so contained with a gun pointed in her face. "It would ruin the lovely decorating you've done." Normally, I would've laughed at a crack like that at how boring and plain my bedroom was. I really should invest in some decorations.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, gently placing my gun on the nightstand. I did not ask how she got in here, knowing I gave Maura her own set of keys to my apartment a few months ago. The keys to her house reigned on my collection.
Maura smiled, lying like a feather with her hands clasped on her stomach. "Lay with me. I know you're having trouble sleeping. I promise, this will help."
Hesitantly, I placed myself beside Maura, mimicking her position. Maura closed her eyes, so I did the same. I felt her warmth radiating beside me, her presence enough to melt me. She was just so put together, and I was so fractured.
"Is it Hoyt?"
The suddenness of the question made me stir. I sat up, but Maura was still lying beside me, now facing me. Her intense hazel eyes were grilling me.
"I don't see how that's relevant."
"It's Hoyt, isn't it? You're having nightmares about him." Maura sat up when I did, taking her hands in mine.
I looked toward our connected hands, my own feeling cold in her warm, soft ones. "Now who's the detective?" I smirked, meeting her eyes.
"Jane, he's in jail. He can't hurt you. Plus, I bought my suitcase. I'm staying for the night. Right here." Maura bought me into a hug, one that made me unable to refuse her or her offer to stay the night.
"What's your big idea that's supposed to make me feel better?"
Still holding me, Maura spoke. "This."
I didn't have nightmares that night.