(A/n some of these have completely lost the photo album theme and I'm not even sorry)

He missed her.

Granted, she'd been three minutes and seventeen seconds (and counting) while she did the coffee run. But he missed her.

God, that prison shit really fucked him up.

She walked in the door with Terry at her heels, both of them carrying a tray of coffees. He counted to ten in his head before he stood and joined her in the break room.

"Hey," Jake stood behind her, arms around her and lips on her neck.

She tipped her head back and smiled to herself. "Very cuddly today, babe, you alright?"

He shook his head into the crook of her neck. Amy turned to face him and ran her hand along his freshly shaven jaw. Her eyebrows furrowed as she searched his eyes.

"Bad day?" He only held her to his chest and hid his face from her. "Okay, take a minute, I'm gonna brief Rosa." She pressed a coffee into his hands and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back before you know."

Jake shivered as soon as her hand left his skin and not even the hot coffee seemed to warm him.

He'd spoken to Amy about it. Before prison, he'd not had a panic attack. Not a proper one, anyway. But now?

He couldn't sleep. He'd close his eyes and hear the slam of the cell door, see the light on the cold floors with shadows of the bars he was trapped behind. He might not be in prison anymore, but he felt prisoner in his own mind.

Amy helped. She was able to soothe his panic attacks that happened as he closed his eyes to sleep, but they'd both grown used to his whimpers and cries in the night. It's been tough, both of them would admit, she'd woken him up at unearthly hours to try to heal his broken thoughts, rest his mind. It was always the same - it was always worse to return to the darkness.

She knew how flustered he could get at work too. It wasn't just her that escaped the bullpen for a private cry anymore. And it wasn't always him that noticed the others absence and came to the rescue. They were leaning on each other now. Like an awkward crutch situation in which they were both missing parts of themselves, yet somehow they would hobble along together.

Today wasn't his best day, granted. But it was far from his worst.

True to her word, Amy returned a moment later to find Jake with his head between his knees, his coffee abandoned on the table.

She sat beside him.

"I know it feels rough, but trust me, everyday, you're getting better. I was just able to talk to Rosa and when I got back, you knew what to do to stop yourself getting worse. If I'd've done that 2 weeks ago, you'd be much worse. I'm so proud of you."

His throat felt tight as he fought back the tears so he just nodded at her and took her hand tightly in his.

And there they sat. Amy kept an eye on the clock and when Holt stood in the doorway questioningly, she was able to just shake her head for him to understand. Today wasn't a good day. Today's aim was just to be. Just to make it to the end. And that's okay. They would be okay.

15 minutes later, she spoke. "Do you think you can get back to work? I can bring you something to work on in here if you want to keep to yourself."

Jake had to clear his throat before he could speak, but was able to nod too. "I'd like that. I don't want the guys watching me."

She kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand, leaving to fetch some of his paperwork.

"Bad day." She told Terry as he frowned. "He's gonna stay in the break room for a bit." Terry and Holt, who'd overheard from where he and Rosa were discussing a case, nodded.

"I've brought three." She said, setting the files and a pen on the desk in front of him. "Do you want me to stay here with you?"

Jake shook his head. "I don't want to keep you from your own work." Selfless, as always. She smiled to herself and sat down beside him.

"I brought some work for myself. I can sit with you for a while."

He shot her a smile, apologetic and grateful. Their fingers interlinked under the table and then untangled so they could work.

That evening, before the nightmares and cries began, she told him how proud she was. He'd been in control, he'd got through it.

She kept herself pressed against him as he slept, her hand behind his neck, leg tangled between his. They'd be okay, in time.