Dr. Pierson comes in early the following morning to check on Jillian. He gives her a quick examination – Erin watches with care and concern the whole time, knowing Holtz isn't one for strangers touching her, but she's a champ and smiles her way through it – and, once concluding she's doing well and in good hands, signs off for her to head home. He gives Erin some basic instructions and signs to watch out for. Confusion, headaches, mood swings are all typical in the aftermath of a head injury, Pierson explains.
Erin listens as the doctor goes on about wound care – "treat it with antibacterial ointment and redress it each morning" – and thanks him for his help.
"Give us a call if you need anything," Dr. Pierson says, scribbling a phone number onto piece of paper. He hands it and a collection of scripts to Erin before turning to Holtzmann, who is already halfway out the door. "Take care, Ms. Holtzmann."
She two-finger salutes the doctor, then smiles at Erin. "Ready to bust out of this joint?"
The pair makes their way out of the intensive care unit toward several sets of elevators that lead to the ground floor. Erin lets Holtz press the 'down' button – which she does approximately 4 times – "To keep it even," Holtz explains – and when the elevator arrives with a cheery 'ding!', they shuffle inside. They stand on opposite sides and Erin can't help but watch the other woman as she stares as the floor numbers change. Holtzmann's hair is pulled up in her traditional swoop, the perfect counterpart to the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants Erin bought her from the gift shop to wear home. Despite the bandage on her forehead and the small burns across her cheek and neck, she shines; Erin doesn't know how it's possible, but the imperfections make her look even more perfect.
Holtzmann doesn't seem to notice her staring; instead, she watches the numbers intently and counts them down under her breath. When the elevator reaches "1", Holtz shuffles back and forth on her feet, antsy, waiting for the door to slide open. It's barely apart before she tangles the fingers of her right hand with Erin's and practically drags her out of the elevator.
It's an innocent gesture – nothing more than friendly, Erin convinces herself – but she can't help but feel a slight tingle up her arm with the contact. How can this woman supercharge her with a mere handhold? When they step further down the hallway and Holtz lets her go, she almost lets out a whine.
They exit the hospital, Holtz a few steps ahead. She lifts her chin and closes her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose. A soft breeze brushes by and musses the toss of waves on the top of her head. Standing on the sidewalk, she lets herself breathe in the distinctive scent of New York City that burns her lungs but makes her feel more alive than she ever has.
Erin doesn't dare interrupt Holtzmann's serenity. She watches in adoration for a few moments until Holtz turns to her and flashes that beautiful, dimple-adorned smile that started this hopeless crush.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Holtzmann asks, gesturing toward the city.
Erin grins, never taking her eyes off of Holtz. "Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe it."
-X-X-X-X-
As Erin fumbles with her apartment door key, she can't help but feel a little bit of remorse. This isn't exactly the way she expected to be bringing Holtz 'back to her place', but she's happy to have her here nevertheless.
Erin opens the door and gestures inside. "Welcome. Don't mind the mess. I didn't have time to clean up or anything."
Holtzmann rolls her eyes. "Mess. Right." She walks over to a cedar wood table tucked in the corner with an array of images in dark brown frames. Erin watches as Holtz runs her fingertips over the glass, tracing an image of the Ghostbusters team before settling on one of just the two of them. They each have an arm around the other and Holtz's head is resting on her shoulder. Jillian lingers in front of the picture for a few moments, as though the memories will seep through her fingertips and into her subconscious.
"We look really happy here," Holtzmann says quietly. Her eyes remain focused on the frame.
Erin pauses and bites her lip. "Yeah, we were."
Holtz stands there in silence. She nervously scratches at her forearm until Erin steps forward and stops her.
"C'mon, I'll show you the bedroom."
The suggestion – thankfully - puts a smile on Holtzmann's face. "Can't say no to that," she teases, bouncing playfully behind Erin as they walk down the hallway.
Erin leads Holtzmann to the guest bedroom, ushering her inside with a wave of her hand. "You can sleep here, if you'd like, or you can take the master bedroom." She gestures across the hall toward her own bedroom. She pauses for a comment from Holtz. However, she says nothing and just looks around intently, taking in everything from the scent of the lemon lavender Yankee Candle oil-plugin to the dark maroon color of the bedroom walls. "Here is great," she finally says, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
"Can I get you anything?"
Holtzmann shakes her head. "I'm really tired." She runs her fingers through her hair. "I think I'm just going to take a nap for a bit."
Erin nods. "Right. Sounds good. You need as much rest as you can get right now." She reaches for the doorknob and pulls the door shut to give Holtzmann some privacy as she sleeps.
"Erin?" She hears her name softly through the door.
Erin cracks the door open and peeks through. "Hmmm?"
"Thank you."
She smiles and nods before closing the door behind her.
-X-X-X-X-
Hours pass. Holtzmann sleeps soundly as Erin paces around the apartment, 'tidying' up despite the fact that it's perfectly clean. Organizing is her vice, her nervous habit, but she has to get out some of this pent-up energy that's bubbled as a result of all the fear and concern that's consumed her in the last 24 hours. She Swiffers and Cloroxes and Pine Sols, all the while keeping an ear out for Jillian down the hallway.
Once she's satisfied with the cleanliness of the house, she decides to give Abby and Patty a call at the firehouse to let them know Holtz is home.
Home. She swoons at the thought of Holtzmann in her apartment being considered home.
"Hey Abby."
"Erin!" Abby exclaims. "How is Holtz?"
Erin glances down the hallway toward the closed bedroom door. "She's alright. She's back here at the apartment with me."
Abby gasps. "Why didn't you tell us?! We would have come to see her-"
"No, not today. She needs some rest," Erin interrupts. "She's really tired."
"Understandably." Silence. "What does she remember?"
Erin bites her lip and ponders before responding. "She says it's fuzzy. We haven't talked much about it, but I'm trying not to push her. It's only been a day."
"Right." Abby's voice sounds glum.
"She'll get there," Erin insists, and she's not exactly certain whether she's trying to convince Abby of the fact, or herself.