I am so, so sorry for the long delay but I did not have the inspiration to write the last couple of months, I hope that changes now. Thanks for the PMs and the reviews. I hope you still stick with me and my stories.

I know that this is just a short chapter and in the beginning it's a dream sequence/memory of Maura

Again, I am deeply sorry.

Enjoy this update,

T73

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jerked awake. Her throat felt like it was made of sand, so dry that the swallowing was painful. Her kids were heavy like. Her chest hurt like something heavy had been laying on it. She laid on a small cut and the breeze of air made her to pull the itchy blanket underneath her chin. She remembered that she felt like she was paralyzed. Panicky, she lifted her arms and was beyond glad that she wasn't cuffed, but at the same time mad that her limbs were heavy as well. Every single movement had been awkward like her arms and legs belonged to someone else. At least she was able to move.

She tried to sit up and her muscles protested. The room started to turn. Her temples throbbed and nausea came over her so quickly and hard that she lay down again. It was not the first hangover she had, but this was worse. She had been injected with something. She remembered the dark-haired man and the needle.

God, where did he take me? And where is he?

She let her eyes wander through the small room. The nausea forced her to rest her head on the pillow. She craned her neck and turned to examine the dwelling. A kind of wooden shed. Through the slits between the rotted planks light came in as the only illumination. As far as she could tell, it was either cloudy or so early or late in the day that no sun was shining. Anyway, she could only guess. There were no windows, or more precisely, no more. In one wall was a small, boarded-up area that once could have been a window. Apart from the bunk, the room was empty except for a large plastic bucket in the corner. She looked around searchingly and saw something that looked like a door. Hard to recognize because the wood was hardly different from the rest of the wall. Only a few rusty hinges and a keyhole identified it as a door. No doubt the door would be locked, maybe even from the outside, but she had to check it. Carefully she sat up. The nausea didn't take long, and she had to put her head back on the pillow.

"Damn," she scolded and regretted it immediately. What if he watched her and listened?

She had to pull herself together. She could do that. After all, she had already survived other tricky situations. But the headache and the nausea wore her even more out. Why did the man do that to her? What did he want from her? Was it a mistake? New panic cramped her stomach. She didn't allow herself to think about her kidnapper and his intentions or the nature of her kidnapping. That would paralyze her at least as much as the contents of the syringe.

She rolled over on her side to stifle the feeling of nausea. A sharp pain stabbed her in the side, and for a moment she was afraid that she rolled onto a sting. But beneath her was just the lumpy mattress. She raised her hand and noticed that her blouse was pulled out of her waistband. One button was missing, all others were open.

"No, stop it!" She said in a low, sharp voice. Now was not the time to think about what he might have done to her during her unconsciousness. She had to check if she was okay. She didn't feel any open wounds or sticky blood, but she was almost sure that she had broken a rib or had bruised it badly. Carefully, she touched the area under her chest and bit her lower lip. Despite the pain, she guessed that it was bruised and not broken. That was good. With a bruised rib, she worked without restriction. Broken ribs could cause in the worst case damage the lungs.

She pushed one foot out from under the blanket and dangled it to the ground. She was barefoot. What had he done with her shoes? She looked around again. Her eyes had gotten used to the dimness, though her gaze remained a little blurry. But that didn't matter. There was nothing to see in the shed anyway. Toes and ball of the foot touched the ground. It was colder than expected, but she put her foot on it to stimulate the circulation, so that her body would get used to the changed temperature before she rose. The air in the shed was damp and cool. Then she heard it tap, tap, tap tap on the roof. Rain had always had something comfortable for her. In that situation, she immediately wondered how rotted and leaking the roof was, and shivered promptly. The bucket, however, hadn't been set up because of the leaky roof. It rather should serve her amenities. Apparently it was planned to keep her here for a while. A scary thought. She pushed herself up from the cot, stood with both feet on the cold floor, leaned forward and braced herself. Teeth clenched, she fought the urge to vomit, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Her raging pulse made her head buzz. She tried to focus on the drumming of the rain. Perhaps she found solace and a sense of serenity in the familiar and natural rhythm. A sudden thunderclap startled her like a shot. She turned to the door, expecting to see him.

When the shock subsided, she laughed out loud. It was just thunder, just a little bit of thunder, nothing more. She tested her feet, persuaded her stomach to behave, and tried to ignore the pain in the side and the suffocating panic. Her breath was shallow. A lump in her throat threatened to burst into a scream, which she laboriously suppressed. Trembling, she took the blanket and put it around her shoulders, knotting the ends around her neck to keep her hands free. She looked under the cot, hoping to find something that would help her escape-or at least her shoes. But there was nothing. Not even hair balls or dust. Apparently he had thoroughly cleaned and prepared the shed for her. If only he had left shoes. Then she remembered wearing a pantyhose under her pants. That meant he had undressed her.

Do not think about that, Maura! Focus on your escape, distract yourself. Don't listen to pain or bruises on parts which could tell you what he have done to you!

No, she wouldn't think about it, not now. She had to use energy to get out of here. Again she listened to the rain, waiting for the reassuring effect of the drumming rhythm, which hopefully regulated her rough breathing. As soon as she could walk without nausea threatening to knock her over, she walked cautiously to the door. The handle was nothing more than a rusted bolt. Once again, she looked out for an escape tool. But even the corners were clean. Then, in a groove between two planks, she spotted a rusty nail. She fished it out with her fingernails and checked the keyhole. The door was indeed locked. With a steady hand she put the nail in the lock and turned carefully, but skillfully in all directions. Another talent from her childhood. Since she had not needed it for years, she was a little bit out of practice. The rusty lock creaked in protest.

For Chrissake, if I would only -

Suddenly something metallic sounded. She grabbed the handle and yanked it. The door swung open and she was mystified about wouldn't have been necessary. She stared skeptically at the opening. That was too easy for her liking. Was that a blessing or a trap?

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I am with my mother and Claire in the kitchen this moment again. They didn't need to ask me to know if Maura have had a bad night once again, it was written on my face. But this time I didn't wake Maura and let her relive whatever was haunting her this time. Sounds cruel? It is, but it's also helping to cope with whatever happened to her. I still have the hope that she's sharing her experience with me at some point. Thankfully Claire agreed with my newest method, my mother on the other hand, well ... She's still the one who's giving tongue to everything. She isn't very pleased with my plan. I catch her eyes and sip my coffee with a heavy sigh, preparing myself for the next argument. "Ma!" I say warningly as soon as mom open her mouth. Surprisingly she shuts it again immediately and I turn my head to spot Maura standing at the stairs. I have to bit my tongue because she has wrapped a woolen blanket tightly around her shoulders, her face is pale and the dark circles under her eyes are even worse then mine when I've been haunted. Apparently she remembered something bad and I'm not sure if I wanna know it. I know I have to hear about it at some point, when she's ready to share. This morning, I'm not pushing her.

I watch Maura walking over to the coffee maker, pouring herself a cup of coffee without saying a word, and I run my fingers over my left eyebrow. I forrow said eyebrows when I feel Maura taking my hand in her own, guiding me gently but without a word towards the French window. As soon as we're outside and alone, she points at one of the sun lounger, saying, "Sit."

"Okay," I mumble to myself and do as she commanded, not really sure what I should think about that, but then she's sitting down right in front of me and leans back against my chest, and my heart's skipping a beat. I keep my hands to myself in the first place until I feel her shivering even though she's wrapped up in the blanket and I touch Maura's arms gently. I'm relieved that she doesn't pull away but seem to relax a little bit more. "It's going to be alright, Maura." I whisper and she leans her head back against my shoulder, her eyes are closed. Jesus, I don't even know why I say those words because they also sound to me like a lie.

Maura's silent for a moment and I want to kick myself, but then, all of a sudden, she's wrapping my arms around herself and turns her head to me, finally opening her eyes again. "I know it will, Jane. I just didn't think that it would take so long."

I'm not looking away. "You take as much time as you need to heal."

"You need to heal, too."

"Don't worry about me, Maura."

"I'm always worried about you."

For some good reason but right now my person is not as important as Maura. Not to me, but that's something I can not tell her. I nestle my nose in the crook of her neck and sigh. "You're more important to me, don't worry about me, Maura. Please."

Maura's silent for a second and I'm afraid that she's withdrawing from me again. Instead, she wraps my arms tighter around her body like I'm a second blanket that's warming her. "Jane, I'm so tired."

I nod against her and suppress a heavy sigh. "I know."

"No!" She replies fiercely and I look at her with a deep frown. "No, you don't. I am so tired of being mad at you. I'm so tired of hating you!"

It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted off my chest and the only thing I can say is, "Oh!"

That makes Maura roll her eyes and a small smile creeps up on my lips. "Those days you are so patient, it's almost intolerable."

"Sorry," I chuckle but it does down when she looks me dead in the eye.

"You are the most important person I've ever known and -" she's pausing and her body's relaxing again. "And yet you are staying with me when others would have walked out on me."

"That's because we're in this together." I reply and tighten my hold as soon as she looks away. "Don't roll your eyes on me." I state and I think I can see a smile. "I love you, Maura, and we're in this together. And I won't give you up so easily. Because you did the same. You didn't give me up in my worst times." I pause and she's looking at me. "No matter what you saying to me, I won't walk out on you, and I'm not pushing you for anything."

Now, she's really smiling and leans in. "Thank you." She whispers before she's kissing me gently.

The only thing I can do is smiling back against her lips while my heart is almost jumping out of my chest.