Author's Note: This is a follow up to my re-working of the end of 2.10. It picks up directly where Make You Watch leaves off. ***WARNING*** This fic will contain rape triggers, please be advised. Part 1 of 3.

Make You Watch can be found here: .net/s/7379274/1/Make_You_Watch Or if FFN jacks with the link just click on my profile and go to Make You Watch, it is necessary to read that fic before reading this one.

In Dreams

CH 1: Lights On, Lights Off

Lights on. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she had answered Jane's question with that response. Lights on, as if the mere presence of illumination would vanquish the darkness. The real darkness. Not the black night that would descend on the bedroom when the lamp was turned off. No, the real darkness, the terrifying presence of Charles Hoyt that still lingered around her and stuck to her skin. It didn't; the light couldn't do that. It wasn't magic, there was no such thing.

He told you that I loved you…I do. I love you, Maura. The words echoed through her ears, as close to any kind of magical panacea there could be for the abject fear and horror that had settled into her chest. And yet, the realization consumed Maura in the well lit room as the minutes ticked by on the clock, marching the worst day of her life forward towards a new dawn that the sun had not set on that fear. The words of I love you were only enough to hold her precariously on the edge, they couldn't pull her all the way back. Not yet. So, she hung there, body suspended by invisible and oh so fragile lifelines over an ominous void.

"Jane?" Maura whispered into the warm neck that served as her pillow, her hand trailing lightly from Jane's shoulder down her arm. No response.

It won't feel like this forever. That's what Jane had said, only hours earlier. Maura wanted to believe her; if there was anyone in the world she could trust it was Jane. But, in the dim light of the haunted bedroom it didn't feel like Hoyt's shadow would let go.

Maura closed her eyes and let the tears seep out, waiting until her face was soaked to wipe futilely at the little tributaries that stained her cheeks and dribbled the moisture down to Jane's chest. "I'm not as strong as you," she mumbled with a sigh of defeat. "I thought maybe I could be."

Lights on. A stupid throw back to a childhood comfort.

Maura, darling…there are no such things as monsters, the placating though somewhat exasperated tone of her mother rang through her memory. But, I'll leave the light on if it makes you feel any better.

She sat up, stared down at Jane's sleeping form, her furrowed brow and the slight tremor behind her eyelids as she dreamed.

Lights on. There are no such things as monsters. "Yes there are mother, and they come just as easily in the light," Maura flicked off the lamp.

Nooo! It all seemed surreal in the moment. It couldn't be happening. Charles Hoyt had not just sat up unrestrained from his bed in the prison infirmary and attacked Jane again. Her thoughts, her fears they resided only with Jane, what Hoyt would do and how powerless she was to stop him. Useless, she told herself over and over as Hoyt leaned over the body of her best friend, the cold steel blade of his scalpel exacting familiar punishment on her neck, you are useless.

And then he was coming towards her, the simultaneous depraved and vacant look in his eyes as he brandished the stun gun. Useless. The control was so easily taken from her, she knew every way in which the body worked, every way in which to manipulate it but biology was more than a capable foe to will. Her body betrayed her, completely subdued by the electric current that coursed through her and locked every muscle in dysfunctional contraction.

Move. MOVE. To no avail.

His body sunk down on top of her, acrid breath flowing so calmly from his mouth across her face. Monster.

You'll feel a slight pinch, Doctor. She could feel the blade drag slowly across her skin.

The mere presence of him hovering over her was weight, an unbearable weight that threatened to crush her with fear. His chest made contact with hers, lips so close to her own they almost touched; Maura could taste him as she inhaled his breath. Charles Hoyt was poison and she was being forced to drink him in.

She loves you, he whispered, but she's never told you that. She wants to touch you, slip her fingers inside your hot, tight little body. But she hasn't. I'm going to fuck you like she's always wanted to, and when her voice is hoarse from screaming; you're going to watch me kill her. But don't worry doctor, I told you before I wouldn't kill you, and I won't.

This was darkness, the real darkness. The complete and total despair of uselessness and hopelessness and worst of all in that very moment the sensation of being totally alone with evil. There are no such things as monsters. Lies. There is evil and there are monsters…and sometimes…they win. She couldn't hear Jane screaming. No one was fighting for her; she couldn't even fight for herself.

The weight grew heavier. His chest was fully flush against hers, hands on either shoulder, curling into her skin. Bile. He reeked. And then she realized it wasn't him, but herself that stank. Hands dragged down her body, snaking under her own bound arms that she held protectively against her chest, to fondle her breasts. Useless. Lower the physical contact of his hand to her body traveled, the intensity of the fear growing; the fire in her veins traveled with his calculated touch.

Just kill me.

His fingers reached the hem of her skirt, toyed with it. It was all a game. It always had been. Charles Hoyt was a master strategist and possessed patience in seemingly endless supply…and this was what he channeled it towards…torture and destruction. Mother, her childlike voice lingered in the resurrected past, there are monsters; I just know it.

He looked away, presumably at Jane and then back in her eyes. The burn scars on his face rippled and twisted with sick delight. Fingers moved from fabric to skin. The blinding gleam of the fluorescent lights put the whole scene on visual display and in that moment she wished for darkness. Children had it all wrong.

I love you, Jane. I'm sorry. She closed her eyes, held her breath as the rough pads of his fingertips assaulted the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Move. MOVE. Futile.

I win, he sneered, fetid breath bathing her in impending shame. I'm going to fuck you like she's always wanted to. If only she could forget those words…like she's always wanted to. His fingers ghosted over her crotch and pulled at the edge of her underwear…

Maura gasped as her body wrested back control from her subconscious. She sat up; her frantic gulps of hair only exacerbating the lightheaded disorientation from her dream-induced apnea.

Lights off. The darkness was an unexpected ally. She was weak, crying again. "I'm useless," she sniffled out amidst the choking sobs.

"No you're not," Jane's voice was soft and gentle on her neck as her arm wrapped tightly around Maura's body and pulled her in close. "Never say that, do you hear me?"

Maura nodded, closed her eyes as reassuring kisses beat back the feel of Hoyt on her and around her. Jane pulled them back down to the bed, the slow caress of her hands allowing exhaustion to assert leverage over fear.

"Sure you want the light off?" Jane mumbled, her hand reaching through pitch black to fumble for the lamp switch.

"Yes," Maura curled into Jane's body, fingers seeking out the scar on her side first before moving to her chest, her palm settling over the constant thump of the red muscle below.

This is real, she reminded herself, hand gripping at the warm skin and the bones beneath as if she could reach through the layers and hold that heart in her hand, be as close to it as possible, leach its strength. "Lights off."