Author's Note: Just when you think a story's over, it pokes you in the brain and says, "Hey you forgot this part!"

She pushed through the doors to the autopsy room and it was one of those rare moments when she knew she was dreaming. Everything was too bright and too cold. All the stimuli affected her more intensely. When her eyes first focused on the charred human remains on the table, she noted that these were events that couldn't possibly be happening in real life.. Paddy Doyle was standing at the head of the table with his back to the remains, looking at the x-rays on the light board. Maura could see from the pelvic x-ray that the remains belonged to a woman. In real life, she knew who that woman was, but in the dream, her mind refused to let her even think the name. The name was too ironic. She stood to Paddy's right and looked at the x-rays with him.

"I did everything I could to protect you both," he said calmly without looking at her.

"It wasn't enough," she responded, her tone flat and emotionless. "It will never be enough."

"You don't deserve my life," he continued. He still wouldn't look at her.

"That's one of the most honest things you've ever said to me," she said.

She walked past him toward the doors of the receiving bay, where the bodies were brought in. She walked through them and found herself at the top of a set of wooden stairs. There was nowhere to go but down. As she continued walking a sense of dread filled her. With each step downward she felt panic rising. She was breathing in shallow breaths and starting to feel dizzy. Yet when she reached the bottom, it wasn't what she expected. She stepped onto the concrete sidewalk outside Boston P.D. Headquarters. She crossed the street, leaving Jane behind her. All of this was so familiar. It was happening again. She stepped up to her car, ready to open the door when she saw Hope.

Hope. Hope. There was the name she couldn't even comprehend in the autopsy room. The name she wanted to say, the name she wanted to yell. Because she didn't want to lose it again. As she stared at Hope, slumped in the driver's seat, she wanted to turn back to Jane, but she couldn't. This moment in time was lasting much longer than it had in reality. There was no time to save Hope in reality. There was no time to save herself.

In a flash, she was back in the basement. But it wasn't just the basement. It was half the basement, half the autopsy room. She was tied to the chair again, staring at two metal autopsy tables. One held the body of Richard Walker and the other Hope Martin. Paddy Doyle walked into view between her and the tables. His hands were behind his back. He walked toward her, and when he brought his hands out from behind his back, she saw he had a piece of duct tape in his right hand. He grabbed each end of the tape and held it between his hands as he approached her. She struggled with the ropes. She didn't want the tape again, the silencer. But there was nothing she could do. He placed the tape over her mouth.

She jerked awake. Her heart was racing and she was breathing rapidly. She unconsciously brought her right hand to her face and rubbed at her mouth frantically, for a split second fearing she would find duct tape there. When she didn't find it there, it finally dawned on her that she was home in her own bed and she had awoke from a nightmare. Yet the fear still lingered. She was trembling and as she covered her eyes with her hand a couple tears escaped from them. She tried to put the dream out of her mind. She tried to clear her mind of all thoughts, to meditate, but she was too frightened for that to be effective. She was pretty sure she was having a panic attack, alone in her own bedroom. Every noise set her more on edge, and when she heard an unusual noise from the kitchen, she held her breath, waiting for another noise to confirm for her panicked mind that there was an intruder there to harm her.

When she heard another noise, she pushed herself up into a seated position. She was faced with the decision of what to do. She could go investigate or she could stay in her room and hope the noises stopped on their own. Finally, a tiny sliver of her rational side told her that Bass probably just knocked something over. But just in case, she needed something to protect herself. Then she realized she had a pretty decent weapon by way of the cast on her left arm. The heavy plaster would work just as well as any other blunt object in her home.

She quietly crept out of her room and moved against the wall toward the kitchen. With each step, her panic was rising again. As she neared the kitchen, she carefully peeked around the corner and exhaled when she saw Angela moving about. The clock on the microwave said it was 8 o'clock. Maura could smell the coffee brewing. She disappeared back behind the corner and closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall. She felt ridiculous. Of course it was Angela. Who else would be in her kitchen, unannounced, in the morning?

She moved back to her bedroom just as quietly as she left it and sat on the edge of the bed. She needed to get herself together before she went out to the kitchen. She couldn't face Angela in her current emotional state. Angela would worry and try to comfort her, and Maura couldn't handle the looks of pity on top of everything else.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tried to focus only on breathing. She mentally repeated the phrase, "Breathe in. Breath out." It seemed to be working. As all she thought about was breathing, her panic began to subside, at least enough that she felt she could face Angela. She went into the bathroom to make sure she at least looked okay, and then she headed out to the kitchen. Angela turned when she heard her coming.

"Good morning. I thought I heard you moving around back there," she said with a smile as Maura sat on a stool in the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Maura lied. She was feeling far from okay.

"Good. Can I make you some breakfast?" Angela asked.

"I'm not very hungry," Maura replied. She actually felt a little nauseated.

"You should eat something. Isn't it bad to take painkillers on an empty stomach?"

"You're right," Maura said. She had a feeling she would be better off letting Angela mother her a little bit. Most of the time she was grateful for Angela's nurturing side. "I suppose I should eat something."

"How about an egg-white omelet? Do you want some coffee?" Angela asked, rattling off one question after the other.

"I can get the coffee," Maura said, preparing to stand up. Angel waved her hand for her to sit back down.

"Nonsense. Sit!" she ordered and Maura complied. "I got ready for work early so I could make sure you're taken care of. I hate that you're going to be here all alone all day. You just got out of the hospital."

"I'll be fine," she lied again. She hated that she was going to be alone all day as well. "But thank you, Angela. I truly appreciate it."

Angela set a mug of coffee in front of Maura and gripped her good hand. "You're more than welcome. Now, how about that egg-white omelet?"

Maura smiled and nodded her head. "That sounds great."

She watched Angela cook and felt mostly calm again. She just wondered what she would do once Angela left. She didn't want to lose that calm for fear that she might never get it back.

Jane walked into the homicide unit, well-rested and carrying her doctor approved 8-ounce cup of coffee. She even had the doctor write her a note she could give to Maura in case she caught Jane with her favorite morning beverage. She sat at her desk and sipped the hot, bitter liquid, savoring every drop of it. She knew she wouldn't be able to have more of it until the next morning. She stared at the paperwork on her desk but swore not to touch it until after she had enjoyed her coffee. Frost walked in and stopped abruptly, staring at her.

"I thought you were laying off the caffeine," he commented. She glared at him.

"Don't even start with me," she said. He raised his hands in a surrender gesture and sat at his own desk. "I'm cutting back, but I'm not giving it up."

"Hey, not my problem," he said with a chuckle. "Honestly, you're easier to deal with when you're caffeinated." Jane shot another glare at him, but he didn't see it because he was busy logging onto his computer. "You just didn't touch the coffee your mom brought the other night."

"I was on edge," she lied. She didn't think anyone had noticed. "I thought it would make things worse."

"What would make things worse?" Frankie asked as he and Korsak showed up.

"Nothing," Jane replied. "Hey, I thought the drug unit had you for a couple weeks."

"They do," Frankie said, not able to hide his slight disappointment. He headed over to an empty desk and picked up a cell phone charger. "Just forgot this the other day. Phone's almost dead."

"Maura is home from the hospital, right?" Korsak asked. He had only had time for a quick visit with all the excitement over Paddy Doyle allegedly orchestrating the death of one of her kidnappers. "How is she?"

"They released her yesterday," Jane said. She continued sipping her coffee. "She's doing okay, I guess. Although she was pretty doped up on pain killers."

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted when Angela rushed into the room. She was clearly distraught over something. Jane set her coffee down and looked to her mother in confusion.

"Jane, you gotta help. Maura's missing!" Angela said. She looked to her son. "Frankie, put out one of those, uh, you know, a BOLO."

"Frankie, don't put out a BOLO," Jane ordered as she stood, pointing at her brother. He looked offended that she thought he would do something so ridiculous on the order of his mother. "Ma, what are you talking about? Why do you think Maura's missing?"

"I made her breakfast, made sure she was comfortable, and then I had to leave for work," Angela explained. "Constance was going to stop by to check on her a couple hours after I left. But she just called me. Maura's gone."

"Did you try her cell phone?" Frost asked the obvious question. Angela scowled at him.

"Of course, I did. We both did," she replied. "She didn't answer."

"You're being paranoid," Jane said as she pulled out her cell phone to try calling Maura. "She probably went for a walk or something and forgot her phone. She's been cooped up indoors for the past four days."

"Fresh air could do her good," Korsak added. Angela didn't look convinced.

Just as Jane was about to hit send to make the call, her desk phone rang. When she saw the caller ID, she had a feeling the mystery of the missing Maura had been solved, and she answered the phone.

"Susie, what's up?" she asked, already knowing the answer. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

The others waited for her to explain.

"Maura's downstairs," Jane said as she started to head toward the elevators. She noticed her mother starting to follow and turned stop her. "I don't think so. I'm going alone. Shouldn't you be working at the cafe, anyway?"

"Fine," Angela said in disappointment. "But you tell her she had us worried sick."

"She'll be touched that you care so much," Jane said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

She hurried to the elevator, leaving Angela to stew over Maura's so-called disappearance. She found Maura right where Susie said, in her office. She was shuffling through papers and pecking at her computer keyboard with her right hand while resting her plaster-encased left hand on the desk.

"Maura, what are you doing? You're on medical leave," Jane said as she approached the desk.

"I know. It's just this report...the DA needs it for discovery..."

"And he'll get it...when you're back from medical leave," Jane said. "How did you get here anyway?"

"Cab," Maura responded, still tapping away at the keyboard. Jane reached forward and grabbed her hand. Maura looked annoyed. "What are you doing? I have work to do."

"Dr. Snyder has the work covered. Compared to Popov with his vodka and the ballistics-challenged Pike, she's a real breath of fresh air. So would you stop pecking at your keyboard for a minute and talk to me?" she asked with an exasperated smile. "Why are you here?"

Maura looked at Jane briefly and looked down at her cast. Her thumb jutted out in the rigid form, kept immobile to help healing.

"I just didn't want to sit at home all day. I'd rather be here," Maura said. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Geez, you sound like me," Jane said, not believing that she was having to prevent someone else from trying to work while on medical leave. "But this is different. You're not here out of some sense of duty or because you're bored."

"I don't know what you mean," Maura said. She stood and walked over to the sofa, cradling her left hand. The cast was heavy, but she didn't want to wear a sling.

"You don't want to sit at home alone all day," Jane said. She sat to Maura's right. "You're afraid to be alone."

Maura closed her eyes, determined not to cry. She wasn't a captive for a long time, but it was long enough. The anxiety she felt wouldn't abate. If not for the prescribed pain-killers, she might not have slept at all the last couple of nights.

"I was certain I would die in that basement. I woke up this morning, and for a few moments I thought I was still there. I had this nightmare with Paddy and Hope and...and duct tape...and I nearly lost it,"she explained, her voice quiet and thick with emotion. She shook her head and chuckled at how absurd her morning panic attack felt. "If I had been any more panicked this morning, I might have bludgeoned your mother with my cast."

Jane remembered that fear. After her first encounter with Hoyt she was worried she wouldn't be able to get past the fear and do her job. When he kept coming after her time and time again, it kept getting harder to push the fear away. Only when he was dead did she feel true relief. At least Maura would only have to deal with Richard Walker once.

"Maura, I'm a cop, and I've been kidnapped and tied up by psychos more times than I'd like to admit. I understand what you're feeling right now," Jane said. She held her hands out, palms up, to show the scars that Hoyt had given her. That reminded Maura exactly how much Jane understood. "I get the fear. The important thing to remember is that the people who did these things to us aren't going to do it again."

"But what's to stop someone else from trying?" Maura said, her voice wavering slightly. "Paddy may have scared his mob rivals away from me, but how many more Richard Walkers are out there?" She paused and shook her head. "Hope's dead. How long until it's me?"

"Things happen. And not just the psychos. You could get hit by a bus when you leave here, or fall down some stairs and break your neck," Jane responded. She gripped Maura's right hand between her own. "We deal with death on a daily basis. If we start letting fear rule our lives, then our lives are already over."

Maura sniffed as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I know you're scared, and that's not going to go away immediately," Jane said. "If you need to talk about it, I will always listen. And you know that I would do everything in my power to keep you from being hurt."

"You're a homicide detective, Jane," Maura said as she pulled her hand away and wiped at her tears. "You're not my personal body guard. You can't protect me 24/7. And I wouldn't want you to."

"Yeah, fine," Jane said dismissively. "But you know that when it counts, I've got your back, right?"

Maura looked to her friend and smiled. That Rizzoli loyalty was an awe-inspiring thing to behold and an honor to receive.

"I know you do. And I've got yours," she responded.

Feeling that the tension had eased considerably, Jane smiled and stood. She offered her hand to Maura and pulled her to her feet.

"Good. Now let's go up to the cafe before my mother has Frankie put a BOLO out on both of us."

Maura was confused by that seeming non sequitur but chuckled anyway. As they headed to the elevators, she thought about her anxiety and fear. Jane was right. It wouldn't go away immediately, but she at least felt that she would get back to the point where she could live her life without fear, as long as she had her extended chosen family to watch her back.

THE END...I think...