Fortunately I hadn't spent long in hospital. My vitals were good, my forehead was stitched and hadn't grown any complications, so within 18 hours of me waking from the unconsciousness I'd fallen into during my ambulance ride, I was able to go home.

Thanks to June, she had brought over the items I'd bought during our short shopping trip, adding a few things she'd thought I'd need, like a pair of comfy sweats and a pair of slides. Dawson had grumbled about it, angry with her, assuming she'd only shown compassion out of guilt, I disagreed.

Dawson had expressed his anger on numerous occasions for June's actions, and I'd defended her each time. I didn't feel it was her fault, she'd had good intentions. It was Trey and Wyatt, it was their fault, not June's. Either way, I was fine, and when I'd changed into my new dark grey sweatpants, slipped on my black slides and was handed discharge papers, I was thankful.

Despite only being in the hospital for a short time, when I'd stepped out into the fresh air, cold and overcast, I absorbed the polluted city oxygen as much as I could. The bustling streets and the overwhelming population of people had started to irritate me. I was excited for quiet, I was excited to sleep in a room without lights and machines and the interruptions of nurses.

I hadn't sleep well, only having had naps, I was eager to get back into my temporary routine.

While Dawson drove us back towards his vacation house hidden in the woods in a newly unmarked police vehicle, I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. It was late afternoon, the sun covered by darkening clouds, grumbling lowly with warning. Comforted by the familiarity of Dawson's company, I could now relax entirely. I allowed my mind to wander, replaying the drama of my last 24 hours over and over, and then my mind spoke

"The meeting you had while I was with Bryce, was that about my case?"

He kept his eyes ahead "No" the tone was abrupt and cold, telling me to leave it alone "Oh, okay.."

I leaned by head sidewards, my eyes searching the window as rain began to fall, droplets trickling down the glass

Dawson let out a small sigh "Harding put in a request to be switched with me"

My head spun in his direction, surprised "He did? Why?"

He shrugged "There are a few reasons I could come up with.."

There were a few reasons I could have come up with on my own too, but I kept them to myself, just like Dawson did.

"But he isn't right? He won't replace you?" I needed assurance. I liked Harding, he had been fun and had kept me safe for the time he'd been alone with me, but he wasn't Dawson. The pair were so incredibly different from one another and I knew deep down that I felt safer and most comfortable with Dawson. I felt that the connection we had made, the effort we had put into getting to know each other was something I couldn't just throw away, forget about.

Finally a small smile emerged on Dawson's face "No, even my sergeant held back a laugh, Harding isn't ready for something like this, but he needed to let me know the process as Harding had pulled a few higher strings for the request"

"Who can ultimately make the decision?"

"It's fine Jasmine, don't worry about it" He quickly looked to me "Why do you seem so concerned anyways? You and Harding seemed to hit it off.."

I rolled my eyes, feeling awkward "We did.. but it's different.."

"Different?" He was pushing for information I wasn't sure I wanted to reveal

"I don't.." I was shaking my head, trying to think of a way out of it "It's hard to explain.."

How did I explain to him that Harding was exactly the type of man I could and would sleep with? The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a complete and utter floozie. Was it fair to be judging myself? Men were allowed to do it, they were never ostracised for it.

Thankfully Dawson let it slide. I was already feeling uncomfortable, I couldn't go on to explain how the pair differentiated from one another. I barely understood it myself.

Once home, we had again found ourselves in a familiar position. The car had come to stop beside the house, parked while rain fell generously. I wasn't in the mood to play games like we had before, I wasn't in a condition to dance in the rain. The space between detective James and I wasn't like it had been before, something felt off, different.

"I think there's an umbrella inside somewhere, I'll go and dig it out and come back to get you" Dawson offered

I nodded before he exited the car, running from the rain instead of enjoying it the way we had last time.

When he returned five minutes later, he held an umbrella over himself, walking calmly to my door.

Relieved to be in the comfort of my temporary home again, I took a warm shower and dressed in a beige oversized sweater, dark tights and socks.

It was a cold afternoon, rain heavy on the rooftop and when I returned downstairs, the instant smell of a hot meal wafted through the air. I sucked in my breath, taking it in.

Dawson stood in the kitchen, his body over the stove while he stirred a pot over heat.

"You should be running a restaurant or something" I told him, moving closer to investigate the source

Dawson smiled, unmoving.

Inside the pot was an unmistakable thick creamy pumpkin soup. I was instantly enthusiastic for dinner, practically drooling as I stood beside Dawson, watching it stir

"My dad used to make pumpkin soup for me when I was sick" I recalled "He'd buy a fresh loaf of bread for dipping and smother the butter on, we would sit at the table together and watch Gilligan's Island reruns"

Placing the wooden spoon down beside the pot, Dawson turned to me, folding his arms over his chest. His eyes moved to mine, his lips pulling to a small smile "That was one of my dads favourites.."

"No way" My mouth gaped

He nodded "Mary Ann was his favourite"

"I can't imagine why" I rolled my eyes with an unattractive snort

"Me either" He chuckled, his eyes roaming over my face until his expression changed "You took the bandage off" He had noticed I'd removed the bandage off of my forehead for my shower

Lowering my head I moved to the other side of the counter, distancing myself "Yeah"

"You should keep it covered to avoid infections and accidentally bumping it open" He began like the babysitter I had not wanted

I sat on the barstool against the island bench when he moved towards his med kit for the second time since my arrival. I knew where he was going with it, and instead of arguing, I remained quiet, watching it play out

"I don't want to nag you about it, but I don't ever want to see you like I did yesterday again.." He had pulled a large white patch from the bag, using scissors to size it into a perfect rectangle to fit

"It wasn't that bad.."

He looked down on me, disapproving of my statement as he gently placed the bandage over my hairline, covering the wound

"Have they any leads on the driver yet?"

He focused on what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke "Fingerprints came back to a petty criminal from the south side, they've got a warrant out for his arrest, but nothing yet"

"Do you think he was hired?"

He nodded as he placed thinly cut tape to my skin to hold the bandage down "It seems that way"

"I'm terrified to testify, but I'm just so eager to get this whole thing over and done with" I sighed

"Day by day, we'll get there" He took a step back, admiring his work

"And for the record, I'm glad it's you here instead of Oliver, I don't want that to change"

He hesitated where he stood, his eyes soft "Me too"

Like a cheesy reenactment, Dawson had served dinner with bread and butter. He'd placed us at the table and found a season of Gilligan's island to stream. It was a moment I could quite explain. I felt as though I'd been pushed back through time, only instead of having my dad there, I had Dawson. It was hard to decide who's soup had been better, despite my dad not being alive, I still couldn't bring myself to say that anyone could beat his pumpkin soup recipe. It just felt wrong.

Rain continued to fall, and when we'd finished dinner, we'd worked together to tidy up as the sun disappeared completely from view. Night had settled, as had the weather, and by 9pm Dawson and I were both exhausted, retiring to the lounge in our usual locations.

My hands were tucked under my head, my eyes heavy. I fought as hard as I could to remain awake, to continue watching the series that had brought so much importance to my father and I, but I couldn't fight it off. I needed sleep, and for once it beckoned me with warmth and welcome.

Unfortunately, it hadn't lasted long.

Sitting in the middle of the homicide unit, chatter surrounded me. It was all white noise, all I was focused on were the two men in front of me. Isaia stood with Dawson, the pair talking, smiling, laughing as I watched their expressions from a desk, my head on my hand.

They looked happy, relaxed. Isaia's grin had me smiling as though it were contagious, and then Dawson's face turned to me, his eyes immediately connecting with mine over the distance between us. He too was smiling, a sight that I couldn't ever become tired of.

He was gorgeous, he was smart, he was brave, kind and selfless, he was everything I wanted, everything I didn't know I needed. My head lifted as our stare intensified, and then his expression dramatically changed. His eyes shot from mine to behind my head, filling with panic.

As I turned to spy the interruption, a loud pop erupted as though it was directly beside my ear. Screams burst through the scene, and in slow motion I could see a bullet spin past my face. Only briefly noticing the shadowed figure holding the pistol, my gaze spun back to where my two heroes stood. I tried to stop it, I stood and began reaching for them, but I wasn't fast enough. Watching on, the bullet collided with Dawson's skin, puncturing through his chest as blood escaped in splatters.

I screamed as he fell, blood gurgling from his mouth while his eyes remained on mine.

Before I could respond, another shot rung out, this time the bullet moving past Dawson to hit Isaia in the neck. Like Dawson, he fell, blood painting the walls an eerie garnet shade.

I fell to my knees beside the two bodies, blood pooling beneath them. Tears escaped my eyes, hot and stinging when a scream rose from my throat, releasing like my own yelp of pain.

My body was shaking, hot and sweaty when it was pulled upwards. I fought to control my breathing as my eyes shot open, returning to reality.

Tears threatened to spill, this time outside of the inescapable nightmare.

"It's okay, hey, it's okay.." His voice was against my ear, his arms around me, holding me together before I fell apart

Staggering for breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, tears breaking free, sinking over my cheeks. I fought against a sob, my hands instinctively holding on, my fingers scrunched into the fabric at the back of his shirt

"You're okay, I promise you're okay.." He continued to reassure me "You're safe here.. you're safe.."

It was no longer me I was fearful for.

Slowly I began to calm down, my muscles relaxing and my heart rate returning to normal. I took a deep breath in and held it, counting to five before releasing it again. My cheeks were dry and sticky, my fingers aching as they released from the hold on Dawson's shirt. When my mind cleared, I realised that the nightmare had struck me hard once again, finding the entry point into my slumber without a medicated pill to stop it.

Finding comfort in the embrace on Dawson, I was unwilling to let go until I knew just how embarrassing it was going to be for him to see me this way, weak, again. Lessening my hold on him, his hands fell from my face, moving down to my shoulders as we pulled apart.

"Are you okay?" His tone was almost a whisper

I couldn't speak, not yet, so I nodded as I held my eyes down