She flinches out of a reverie. One she didn't know that she had gotten lost in. One she didn't remember even being in.

"What?" She fought the urge to send along a crass remark.

"We were saying, just how-"

"I need some coffee," she leaves her seat before her partner Frost can do anything but leave his sentence hanging.

There is something that she seems to be lacking. Maybe it's caffeine. Maybe, no, it's probably just caffeine. She thinks.

She numbs that empty feeling in her with a long drink of coffee.

It's not working.


"Janie?"

She looks up from her desk.

"Cavanaugh says that you've been here since last night," ma sends a gentle smile, "Maybe it's time to go home?"

Home? She looks back to her desk. She's been trying to finish up a report since 2am last night. She couldn't get past the medical examiner's report. Something about it had seemed different. She looks to her mother.

"Sure ma, let's go," she takes her blazer from her chair and she starts to walk. She stops and waits for something.

A sound? A person? Something. She turns back around and reaches for her cup of coffee.

It's cold. It's never cold. Is it cold?

She looks back at her desk. It's 7am in the morning. She's never in so early.

"Let's go home ma, can you drive?" She asks and pretends to not catch how taken aback her mother is.

"Sure Janie, I'll drive."

She rides the elevator in silence. She doesn't drink the coffee. It's cold.


"Ma! You missed the turn!"

"What turn?"

"The turn to Beacon Hill! Come on ma!"

Her mother looks at her. She looks back at her mother.

"What?" She tries not to sound too angry.

"Why would we be heading to Beacon Hill? Are you alright Janie?" Her mother reaches to feel her forehead.

She shrinks back from the hand that's about to touch her. "I'm fine ma!" She yells but isn't so sure inside.

Beacon Hill. It's familiar, but not. Didn't she used to drive up there?

She looks out the window.

She never looks out the window. She's always looking at the passenger, not the window.

She shakes her head. She must be thinking of some vic's address instead.


"Do you want some breakfast Janie?"

"No ma, I'm fine. Go on home. I'm fine. I can make my own breakfast." She hurries her mother out her door and settles herself against the door.

Hands in her hair, eyes shut and fists tightly clenched, she tries for deep breaths, she counts to ten.

The last time she had felt like this – scared, confused, useless, angry, anxious; forgetting thoughts and remembering fragments - was when Hoyt had punctured her hands.

She takes in deep breaths and counts to ten.

Hoyt's been gone for, what? Three years? She focuses on the door behind her back.

She takes in deep breaths, and tries to understand why her fists are still tightly clenched.

She stands and heads to the fridge. She needs a beer. She needs to relax. She needs a beer.

A pack of chocolates falls onto the floor. Fudge clusters.

What?

She's losing her mind.

"I've never seen these chocolates in all my life," she hesitantly crams one into her mouth, "But I just know what they're called and how they'll taste like."

She slams her refrigerator shut.

"And there's no beer, there's only vegetables."

She falls to the floor and starts to cry.

She doesn't bother with deep breaths or counting to ten.

The empty feeling in her wins.

She's losing her mind.


A/N: Hi there, thank you, for the time~
Hmm. An update. Two chapters.
I'm hoping too, the intention of this chapter comes across respectfully, and, makes some sense at least.