Holtzmann was slow to wake up, needing time to gather her senses. The first thing that came to her was pain. Her head was throbbing mercilessly, a steady beat pulsing through her skull and down into her neck. She tried to remember what happened before she passed out, remembering something bad was going on with the mission, but could not exactly recall what had left her feeling so miserable. She sat up slowly, the blanket falling away from her as she did so. She knew something was happening with a ghost, that there had been a bright light.

Her head pulsed with pain and she held her hand up to her face, finding blood dripping from her nose. It made a memory stir, but not enough for her to piece things together just yet. She had flashes, broken images, and a lot of pain, but nothing concrete.

A gentle hand caressed her cheek, drawing her attention and causing her to turn her head. She was startled, opening her eyes to find herself looking into Erin's face. Her hair was messy from sleep, her eyes soft with concern, without make up or, as Holtzmann's eyes traveled down, much in the way of clothing. Just a very light nightie over her underwear.

"Sweetie, hold on, your nose is bleeding again. Here, I'll get it." Erin said softly, grabbing a tissue from a box on the nearest bedside table to hold to her nose and stem the light flow. Holtzmann could only sit there in a stupor as Erin tended to her, returning the smile Erin gave her once she was satisfied the blood had stopped. "There. Is it the medication again? Did you have another nightmare?"

"Medication…? Erin what… what happened at the library?"

"God, I really hate that stuff they have you on. The last one worked better, except for the migraines. There has to be something that doesn't completely wreck your body, or change you into someone else," Erin was moving out of the bed as she spoke, with a familiarity to her anger that came from a long dedication to worrying about it. This was something she cared about, but also talking about a lot before. She spoke with a sigh in her tone, as if she knew she was repeating herself. "It will get better, though, sweetie. I know it will."

She came around the end of the bed, to sit down next to Holtzmann. Leaning in, she kissed Holtzmann warmly on the lips, caressing her cheek reassuringly and resting her forehead against Holtzmann's. Holtzmann's breath was caught in her throat, her mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. It was turning each moment over, trying to decide if it was real or not. Everything in her told her it was not, except one small part of her heart that wanted it to be.

The ghost. It knew that. It told her so.

"This is a trick," Holtzmann said, stiffly, jerking backwards and away from Erin. She scrambled further into the bed, perching on her knees near its center so she was an inconvenient distance away from Erin on all sides. Erin watched her, baffled but straining to be patient. This was not the first time her lover had gotten caught up in a delusion. "The ghost in the library. It's setting me up. Us up. Are you even here, or is this happening to you, too? This is a distraction. A damn good one, I'm distracted as all hell, but as much as I'd love to waste my day with you here in this bed, I've got a ghost to catch."

She darted forward, leaping out of the bed and skittering away from it, to a nearby wardrobe. She needed clothes: she was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of men's boxers. The wardrobe had a mixture of her things and Erin's, neatly organized no doubt because of her apparent partner. There were things on Holtzmann's side that she did not recognize, or even think she would ever wear, but she wondered if, in this universe, they had been gifts from Erin.

How long were they supposed to be together? Was this supposed to be something she believed?

It was ridiculous, preying on someone's inner desires. The ghost read her like a book, seeing her crush for what it was, and manipulating those feelings to create this version of her world. But how could she believe something so paper thin? Erin never even acknowledged her reckless flirting, and that was always part of the fun. Making Erin blush in that beautiful, thoroughly exasperated way was one of Holtzmann's favorite things to do, even if the other woman never really understood what it meant. Because Holtzmann was odd around everyone, of course, so it could not mean more than the nuclear engineer just being herself.

And she was fine with it. She could live this way, chasing a girl that was oblivious to the whole thing. At least they were friends, and good ones. They trusted one another, and worked together closely with the other two members of their little family. And it was good: Holtzmann had no reason to want more. To force more to be real. She understood where she was meant to fit, which was more than she ever had before. Friends that understood her, or tried to, and accepted her either way. A place, a thing to do, a life. She would never do anything to ruin what she had, because it meant for too much to her. They all did. Erin did.

This was not the Erin she knew. It was just the one an outsider into her mind thought she wanted.

"Sweetie," Erin said gently, following her to the wardrobe. "You need to take your medication. I know the side effects are bad, but it's worse when you miss a dose. We caught the library ghost, remember? It was two years ago. I know it was… it was really traumatic. But that's why we're trying these new meds, remember? Jillian."

Erin caught Holtzmann by the hands, turning her so they were face to face. Holtzmann stared at the floor, humming to herself in an effort to keep her mind focused on what she knew to be the truth. There was no reason to talk to this Erin: all she had to do was get out of here.

It killed Erin every time she had to witness Holtzmann in this state. It seemed to happen every few months, as if her wild genius managed to catch up to her and separate her mind from reality. She splintered, unable to tell what was real and what was not, flashing back to cases of their past, or to the most traumatic moments of her life. This time, it was the ghost at the library. A common choice, and a terribly painful one, but over. Behind them. Every time Holtzmann dragged herself back to it, forced herself to suffer through her mistakes over and over, Erin felt like she was being tortured right along with her. It was unfair, and it was cruel. All Erin wanted was to take the pain away, and make the horrible memories stop.

They hunted ghosts for a living: they saved people from being haunted. Yet the only person Erin loved could never escape the ghosts that haunted her. It was why she worked so hard, why she was so good at her job and why her incredible mind was so valuable to the team. But it was also why she never slept, and when she did it was always with nightmares. It was why she had to take medication, to keep her from being consumed by the images and whirling memories that constantly threatened to crash down on her. Erin felt helpless, barely able to do a thing for her.

Except love her. Heart and soul, and anything else Holtzmann asked of her.

"It's okay. I promise. I'm fine, okay? You saved me, you have to accept that. Everything else… there's nothing else, okay? L-listen to me. I love you. I need you to remember that, as best as you can." Erin felt the tears stinging her eyes, though she fought them valiantly. Every time this happened, it hurt more and more. To be forgotten, to be considered a lie. She held Holtzmann's face in both of her hands, fingers curled around the back of her head, into her hair. "You are my girlfriend. You are the best thing in my life. No. You are my life, Jillian. You're everything to me. Why can't you just… just remember that?"

Holtzmann stared at Erin, wide eyed, trembling. The humming stopped, and her efforts not to make eye contact failed.

She had to change tactics here. Fighting against the false world was not working: it was built to deny her a plausible reason to doubt it. Any protest she came up with, it would be countered in some kind of a convincing way. Plus, seeing Erin, even a fake one, crying before her was tearing her heart apart. And those kind of emotions were just not things she was prepared to deal with. Particularly not now, in the middle of a case.

"Doctor Gilbert," Holtzmann breathed, surging forward suddenly and throwing her arms around Erin's neck. She hugged her tightly, still shaking, and Erin moved her arms to return the hug. Holtzmann buried her face against Erin's neck, and Erin kissed the side of her head lovingly. Holtzmann pulled back, blue eyes marred by red strain, tears running down her face. Erin remembered a time when she had never seen Holtzmann cry before, and missed it each time something like this happened. She wiped the tears away as gently as she could, taking a few breaths to steady herself.

"Do you remember what happened at the library?" Erin asked carefully, her gaze still concerned. Bent, not broken, but there was something else. Understanding. Love.

"We got there, late. Alone. The ghost was waiting. There was that pillar of light and I… I went full linebacker into you. You fell, I landed on top of you. You were out cold… there was blood. I passed out after that." Her head ached with the memory, and she put her hand to forehead. Erin saw it, knowing it was difficult to think clearly about such a jumbled mess of nightmares. This moment plagued her, almost destroyed her: but Erin was determined to make it easier. She bent forward, kissing Holtzmann lingeringly on the forehead, catching her hand in her own and holding it tightly, fingers laced together. She pulled back, smiling reassuringly.

"I hit my head on the tile. I almost bled to death while you were unconscious on top of me. When you woke up you panicked, you called Abby and Patty. But you caught the ghost before they got there. You stopped the bleeding. You sat with me and you talked to me, and you kept me alive. And who knows what would have happened if the ghost had gotten us with that light? Whatever that was, you saved us both from that. You did everything right: you have to stop blaming yourself for it."

Holtzmann watched her, listening to the story as if for the first time. As far as she knew, she had never lived it, but Erin had. Erin looked at her in earnest, silently begging her to remember. To accept this reality, even to return to her.

"I… I hurt you," Holtzmann said softly, thinking back on the encounter. She had tackled Erin as hard as she could, and Erin had been unconscious when Holtz blacked out. After that, she could not remember without the pain returning.

"You didn't. I swear, you didn't. It was the ghost, and the panic, and the circumstance, and I'm fine. I'm fine, Jill, and I love you. I'm here."

Holtzmann closed her eyes as Erin kissed her deeply, pulling back with only slight hesitation before leaning into the kiss. She let herself feel it, feel what it was like to be loved by someone, even for a fleeting, fake moment. Erin deepened the kiss when she felt Holtzmann returning it, letting a soft moan escape her throat, which her lover could all but taste. It sent a shiver down her spine, causing Holtzmann to grip the thin fabric of Erin's night clothes, tugging her closer.

She wanted to know this. Wanted to remember it. But it was not that simple, was it? She blacked out her memories because she was having some sort of psychotic break? And Erin, damaged but coping, somehow wanted to be around every time this happened. Walked her through it, holding her hands and bringing her back to herself. For what, a handful of months? How could that be worth it?

What sort of life was that?

It was selfish to want this to be real. To believe it, wasn't it? Holtzmann could not do this to Erin, not when she knew this world did not exist. No matter how badly Erin believed in it, in them, or in her. It was unfair, forcing someone she loved to take care of her, to deal with the kind of madness her genius intellect and quirky nature seemed to have devolved into. It was terrifying, thinking that this could be what her future held. What Erin's future held, if she was made to suffer it.

Holtzmann had to fix this. She had to get back to the real world. At some point, the kiss had ended. They were standing together, safe in each other's arms, taking what comfort they could. Each facing their own impossible difficulty, both knowing the other was the only way through.

"Let's get your pills, okay, sweetie?"