What have I done ? Jane keeps pacing back and forth in her apartment, not able to rest. The "tik-tok" of the clock that is hanging on the wall keeps reminding her that with every passing hour, the chances of finding Maura safe and sound are diminishing with 5%.

Cavanaugh ordered her to go home and get some rest, knowing she would be grateful for it in the morning. What her lieutenant hadn't known was that the only way Jane has gotten her much needed sleep in the past month has been with Maura laying beside her. After the Hoyt incident from the hospital, Jane has needed constant reassurance that her best friend was still right next to her, alive and well with a strong beating heart. Even though Maura would let Jane sleep beside her just for that reason, something told the detective that the ME also needed to feel sure that her best friend hasn't actually died at Hoyt's hands. It was a win-win situation.

Until last night.

Jane and Maura had plans of spending the evening on the couch, each with her own preferred beverage watching a movie and talking about a case, or sitting in a comfortable silence.

When she was heading out of the precinct, determined to get to Maura's house before the ME and surprise her by preparing a nice dinner to go with their evening, she met someone she never thought she'd meet again – Casey Jones was waiting for her on the sidewalk, a bouquet of nice roses in hand. The last time she has heard from him, he was sitting on her bed next to her after spending the night together, to "celebrate" his successful surgery, telling her he would go back to Afghanistan with some psychologists, and stay there for a few months. What she didn't understand was why in a total of 30 weeks, he wasn't even able to give her a call, let alone announce her he is back in Boston.

"Well, well, isn't that the majestic Casey Jones, back from the dead!" Jane won't let him turn her into an emotional mess. Not again.

"Jane…"

That's it. Her self-control snapped.

"No! You don't get to sleep with me, disappear for half a year and then show up in front of me with a bunch of flowers and say my name and pretend everything is alright! It is not fucking alright to go away again and not even give me a phone call! Unless you were held hostage for all that time, in a God forsaken cave, which, looking at you, isn't the case; you have absolutely no right showing up here and fucking me up all over again!" At this point she didn't care anymore that people were turning their heads, stopping and staring because she was screaming in the middle of the sidewalk.

After one more death glare, Jane turned on her heels and started walking away, being too angry to drive without killing anyone. Before she knew it, she was inside her apartment, door locked, on the floor of her living room, getting drunk on vodka with beer.

After half a night in the land of dreams and nightmares about Casey Jones, she returned to consciousness at the sound of high heels coming from her kitchen.

"H-.. How did you get in? " Jane stumbled over her words like a 4-year-old.

"Emergency key" Maura stated matter-of-factly.

"Who said this was an emergency? "

"Considering the fact that your car was left untouched in front of the precinct when I went home and you were no-where to be found, I assumed this was the case. " Maura shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal for her that Jane bailed up on her without even leaving a message.

The brunette saw right through all that and recognized the edge in Maura's voice. After all that grief and alcohol, she couldn't stop herself from taking it out on the first person she talked to. "So you can assume now, huh? Next time maybe you can assume I just wanted to be left alone for a while, without having to tell you where I am or what I'm doing every 5 God-damned minutes. Just because I'm not at your place 24/7 doesn't mean I put myself in a life-threatening situation, or an emergency has happened. "

She didn't mean that. Maura tried to keep the hurt look from reaching her face. She walked over to the brunette and lowered herself next to her. "What happened last night, Jane? "

"I don't need a reason to get drunk. You're not Ma and I'm not 10, I don't need to justify myself to you! " It hurt too much to talk about it, so she put up the walls around herself again, pretending the blonde wasn't the best friend she has ever had and the person she loved most in the world. Pretending she wasn't Maura's family. Pretending.

"Jane…" Maura's voice cracked.

"Stop saying my name all the fucking time!" She swore on purpose, knowing that would help in making Maura leave the apartment without looking back.

It worked.

…

Jane spent the other half of the night hating on everyone and everything, but by the time morning came along, the only one she was hating was herself. Hating herself for letting a high school crush ruin her and more than that, hating herself for turning on the only person that wasn't blood-related and still genuinely cared about her.

On her way to the BPD, Jane thought of different ways of apologizing to Maura. Even though she knew it wouldn't be enough. More important would be time, and Jane winning back Maura's trust and friendship, because the brunette knew she said all the right things for pushing the honey-haired woman as far away from her as possible.

But Maura hadn't come to work and no one has heard from her. When Jane stopped by in the evening, she wasn't at her place either. So the detective started worrying. It wasn't like the ME to just disappear. After a few more hours looking for her in her favorite restaurants and shops without success, Jane went back to the precinct and told Cavanaugh in general terms what had happened. He told her he would assemble a team and start looking, but she should go home and get some rest, because in the state of sleep deprivation she was in, she'd only be in the way. Which brought her to where she was now – pacing in her apartment, waiting for a call that said her best friend is OK. Then why was her instinct telling her otherwise ?