Jessica didn't wake until after noon the next day. She rubbed at her eyes, then rolled onto her back, and a pain ran down her body.

"John," she called out, and rolled back onto her side.

When John walked in and saw he face, he knew her pain was bad.

"I'll get you some pills."

He came back with a glass of water and two pain killers, which he put on the bedside table, and helped Jessica sit up.

"Why does it hurt so bad," she asked. "It didn't hurt like this yesterday. My whole back-"

Another sharp pain cut her off as she reached for the water. John grabbed it for her instead.

"I got a good look at your back yesterday in the tub. The vest saved your life, but the impact of the bullets still did some damage. You've got a lot of bruising back there."

"It didn't hurt yesterday," she said after swallowing the pills.

John shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Adrenaline, the pain killers you took... you were probably more focused on your shoulder. The pain killers have more than worn off now, so you're feeling everything."

"I wanna go back to sleep until it all goes away."

"Unfortunately, I need to take some pictures of your injuries."

"Now?"

"Yeah. I should have done it yesterday as soon as we got here, but you had gone through so much..."

Jessica grabbed John's hand and gave it a squeeze. John leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips and brushed his thumb over the top of her hand.

"Come on," he said as he stood. "We'll do the pictures in the bathroom. I need to change your bandages, anyway."

John helped her stand and she fought back tears as she stood.

"You okay," John asked.

Jessica bit her lip and nodded. John just shook his head.

"You really are a terrible liar. I wish you'd just be honest with me."

"Okay. Honestly, I'd ask you to carry me, but that would probably hurt, too."

"We probably shouldn't have done what we did yesterday. I'm sure that didn't help."

"No regrets there," Jessica said.

She looked up at John and smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"You are something," he said.

"Something good, I hope."

"Amazing," he said.

John stopped just outside of the bathroom and gently pulled her to him. With his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted her face and leaned in for a lingering kiss. Jessica clutched the front of John's shirt in her fists, and rose onto the balls of her feet to meet the kiss.

John finally pulled away with a grunt.

"We'll have to get your shirt off," he said.

Jessica smiled. "A minute ago you said we shouldn't have done that yesterday. Now you want my shirt off?"

John shook his head, trying to act stern, but a smile pulled at his lips.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. We need to get pictures, clean the wound, and rebandage it. Now, stop trying to act like you're not in pain, and sit on the edge of the tub."

The smile faded from Jessica's lips.

"I don't want to focus on the pain. It hurts too much, and it reminds me of why I'm here, and the fact that I got shot, and that I'd be dead if it weren't for you and the bullet proof vest."

John could see her eyes watering, and he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her fists held tighter to his shirt as she let out a sob.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"It's okay."

"What if he gets off?"

"He won't."

"You can't know that," she said as she pulled away, but her hands still held his shirt. "What if he goes free? What do I do? Witness protection? There's no way I'm leaving my life behind while he gets away with everything. But then the alternative is to live in fear for my life."

"Hey, hey... you're getting ahead of yourself. You haven't even testified yet, and your testimony will have a huge impact. And now that you've been shot... that's almost like admission of guilt on his part."

"I just don't-"

"Do you trust me?"

Jessica stared at him a moment. "More than anyone."

"Okay, then trust me when I say, we have this. He's going away for a long time, and he's going to give up all his associates."

"But-"

"Trust me."

Jessica nodded, and John wiped a tear that slipped down her cheek.

"Let's get this done before your pain meds make you sleepy again."

They walked into the bathroom, but Jessica stopped in front of the mirror.

"I want to see."

"See what?"

"My back. The bruises... the gunshot wound."

John shook his head. "Not a good idea. Maybe I'll show you the pictures after."

"No... I really want to see. I need to see."

John still shook his head, but Jessica ignored it.

"Do you have a hand-held mirror?"

"Do I look like I would have a hand-held mirror?"

Jessica heard the frustration in his voice. Hers remained calm.

"I get that you're worried about my reaction, but I can handle it."

"Can you?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other a moment before Jessica spoke again.

"I have a mirror in my bag. Will you grab it for me?"

John lowered his head, but didn't move otherwise.

"Please, John."

John finally nodded and went to get her mirror. When he came back, he helped Jessica remove her shirt. She turned her back to the bathroom mirror and held her hand mirror at an angle to catch the reflection of her back. Deep purple marks with welts at the center where the vest caught the bullets. She remembered the moment of impact. How it pushed her forward and into John as he caught her. It was no wonder she was bruised.

"Do you think it's deep," she asked.

"We'd need a doctor to check it out, but it's okay if it is. It'll hurt like hell for a while, but it's not fatal. I was more worried about your shoulder."

"Let's get the bandage off," she said. "I wanna see it."

"Jess-"

"John... I want to see it."

"No. I'm putting my foot down here."

"I want-"

"Imagine the bruises you just saw," he said with a raised voice, "only this one has been ripped open. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want to see it."

Jessica's face lost a bit of color.

"Is it that bad?"

"You're fine," he said as he squeezed her arms. "It looks worse than it is. That's why I don't want you to see it. I don't want you making it out to be worse than it really is, okay? You're fine. The wound will heal. You'll have a scar, I'm sure, but you're fine."

John was wearing a tank top, and Jessica's eyes fell to the scar that ran down the front of his shoulder. She lifted her hand and let her fingers trace over it.

"Is that from a bullet?"

"No... That's from the explosion."

"I'm sorry," she said just above a whisper.

She wrapped her arms around John's waist and lay her head against his shoulder.

"I do trust you," she said. "I don't need to see it."

John let out a breath. "Good." He ran his hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. "You ready to take some pictures?"

"I guess so."

She sat on the edge of the tub and John removed her bandage. She sat quietly while he sat behind her and cleaned it, then he stood and grabbed a camera. He handed her shirt back to her.

"Hold this in front of you. I'll have to take a couple of shots of your shoulder from the side. Don't want you exposed."

Jessica was quiet again. She found it funny how John seemed to slip into professionalism so easily. She followed his lead and let him work.

Once he had the photos he needed, John put new bandages on Jessica's wound. He felt her flinch and pull away a little as he worked, and it tugged at something inside of him. A protective nature that never wanted to see her hurt again.

He ran his hand down her arm when he was done, and kissed her neck. Jessica leaned into him and sighed. John stood and helped her get her shirt back on, then he knelt in front of her, between her legs.

"Don't try to hide the pain, okay?"

Jessica nodded.

"You don't have to put on a brave front for me. I know you're scared, and I know you're hurt. You can talk to me."

"I'm sure you don't need me to have another breakdown like I had before. You have a job to do."

"This isn't the detective talking, here. It's just me."

Jessica stared at him a moment before she put her hand to his face and brushed her thumb over his cheek.

"I love you," she said softly.

A smile slowly pulled at John's lips.

"I love you, too."

John kissed her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You wanna go watch tv," he asked.

"I'd actually like to go back to bed."

"You should eat something."

Jessica groaned. "You're probably right."

Jessica followed John into the kitchen, but he made her go back into the living room and rest on the sofa. She only ate half of what he brought her.

"I wasn't really that hungry."

"That's okay. At least you ate something."

Jessica yawned and snuggled into John.

"You still want to go back to bed," he asked.

"Yeah."

John leaned into her and put one arm under her legs.

"Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on," he said.

She did, and John stood, wrapping his other arm around her waist to hold her close without touching her bruises. He carried her to the bedroom and set her down on the bed.

"Get comfortable," he said as he climbed under the covers next to her.

Jessica lay on her side, facing him, and waited for him to settle, then she moved close to him. She rested her head against his shoulder. John shifted, moving to face her a little more, and draped an arm over her waist, holding her close. He kissed her forehead and left his lips resting there, breathing her in.

The pain medication kicked in, and Jessica was soon asleep. John, on the other hand, was well-rested and wide awake. He let his mind wander, and he began to imagine what life might be like after Jessica was out of protective custody. He realized that their relationship wouldn't be as easy as it had been so far. She would want to go back to her house, where she had family history and memories. Her home. They would both go back to the real world and their jobs, no longer in isolation. She wouldn't need him anymore. Her life would no longer be in his hands. Would it change the way she felt about him?

John pushed the thoughts from his mind, and nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head. He wanted her around. Even if she decided to live separately, he wanted to be with her. He would make it work. Whatever it took.