It has been a long time since she's been here. At least a year, maybe two, have passed since the last time she was left staring at Jane's motionless body in her bed. That's how long it's been since the nightmares have been this bad.
She knew that the dive back into Hoyt's cases for this seminar would bring back God-awful memories, so when Jane said she'd be okay, Maura didn't listen. She simply waited outside of Jane's apartment in her car for the detective to cease her pacing, and then she headed upstairs and let herself in.
Just as she'd thought, Jane was sitting on the couch with Jo Friday, writhing and convulsing in full-on nightmare mode.
She'd been here before and she knew that if she woke Jane the wrong way, one or both of them would be injured from Jane's imagination. Softly she whispered in Jane's ear for her to wake up while gently rubbing a hand up and down a long arm.
Jane sputtered back into consciousness, confused and murky on where she was and what had transpired.
Maura coaxed her into the bedroom and while Jane was in the bathroom splashing water on her face, she removed the syringe from her purse.
Once she tucked Jane into her covers, she laid down beside her friend, repeating promises to stand guard and protect the detective as she slumbered. And then she simply pressed the tip of the needle into her friend's Italian skin, exhaling a breath of relief once the sedative was administered. She slipped the culprit into a disposal bag and placed it into her purse.
It's been a long time since she's done this, and yet it hasn't been long enough. Maura wished that she'd never have to do it again, but compared to the throes the brunette was in earlier, this dreamless sleep is an improvement.
Jane's chest rises and falls evenly. Her limbs are still and her brow isn't furrowed. For the first time in a long time, she looks peaceful and relaxed. Those are the thoughts that keep Maura from feeling guilty about drugging her best friend.
She observes a little while longer, ensuring that there will be no complications from the medication, and then she picks Jane's gun up from the bedside table and locks it in the lockbox. She takes the other pillow from Jane's bed and a spare blanket from the closet and then she sets up shop on the couch.
Because even though she knows Hoyt's dead, that he has no more apprentices, and that he can't hurt either of them anymore, there is a tiny part of her which irrationally fears that he can come back from death and continue to haunt them.
So she stands vigil, watching and waiting, mostly for Jane, but also partially for herself.