N: there's another authors note at the end explaining a few things, so read that before you get all up in arms. Also, this is told in alternating POV, starting with Maura.
It was a growling that woke me up. A growling that I quickly deciphered as someone aggressively snoring off to my left. I blinked a few times, taking in the drab fluorescent lights pouring in from the open doorway. The room I was in was still very dark, just minimal light from the doorway and a soft desk lamp across the room. I sniffed, cringing at the stale, sterile smells. I had to be in a hospital, that overwhelming bleach smell could not be mistaken. I swallowed, my throat dry like a desert and filled with needles. I turned to my right, spotting a large pitcher of water. I instinctively reached with my right hand, knowing the signs of dehydration where settling in and that pitcher would hold a quick remedy for my thirst.
But as I lifted my right hand, I saw it was tangled in wires, IV lines and bandages wrapped around my hand. I held my arm up, running my eyes over the different lines before looking up at the IV bags hanging over my head. One was filled with saline and the other was a pain drip, possibly morphine, but I couldn't read the scrawled handwriting. I dropped my arm back to the bed and breathed in deeply, feeling the all too familiar pinch of fractured ribs. I controlled my rising panic, taking stock of what was wrong. Maybe I was having a odd dream. I often had those when I worked too late on a body, sometimes transferring their injuries onto me. If this was a dream, it was very sensory overload one. I should take notes when I wake up and do a little research in my down time.
The growling next to me grew even louder and paced with the breaths whatever animal was taking. I turned to my left, wincing in pain and closed my eyes. I covered my eyes with my hand, opening them slowly as the pain receded. Isles, Maura. DOB: 8/07/76 was printed on the plastic wrist band. It dangled loosely from my wrist, making me frown at how thin my arm looked. I'd have to write this down as well, see if anything in my diet was making me dream about my weight, or lack of.
I sighed, moving to scoot up and get a better view of the room I was in and if I could reach my chart. I barely got my two arms settled to push me up when my entire body screamed at me in pain and weakness. I collapsed back into the bed with a heavy grunt, "What kind of dream is this?" My voice came out a harsh whisper, making me cringe once more as my vocal chords hurt like razor blades.
"Maur?" The word was spoken through the same growl that had been filling the room in the last few minutes of waking up.
"Maura." I closed my eyes, whispering out my full name, cursing myself for speaking when it hurt so much. I never liked nicknames. I swallowed a few times, pressing a thin hand on my throat, "Water."
"Um, I'm going to get a doctor." The growling thing moved closer to me, I could make out a shadowy shape with an impressive mane of black hair. I looked up, catching big beautiful brown eyes staring at me in wonderment. Those eyes were also shimmering with heavy tears. "You're awake." The beasts voice shook with fear, and some other emotion.
"Water?" I turned to look at the pitcher, hoping the beast would take mercy on me and give me at least one drink before it attacked.
The beast moved closer, it's face moving into the light showing me it wasn't a beast, but a stunning woman. Her olive skin and sharp angles had me gasping at the beauty she held. "Maur, I need to get a doctor first." She leaned down, as if she was about to kiss me, frightening me.
I tried to back away, turn my head away. "No."
The beautiful woman flinched, her head pulling away like I had slapped her, her brown eyes blinking as tears slid free. I watched her visibly swallow a few times, before she asked. "Do you know who I am?"
I clutched the blankets under my hands, feeling the incredible lack of strength in my grip. This was turning into a nightmare. I stared at her face, tracking every angle and the way she looked at me. My brain racing through it's catalogue of faces I'd met over the years, and I came up with nothing. I had no idea who this woman was, nor was I certain I ever met her in my life. I tried to speak but stopped as pushing air against my vocal chords was far too painful. So, I shook my head no. Slamming my eyes shut as the pain radiated through my temple and down my body.
The woman hovering above me, bit her lip and nodded. "Okay. I'll go get a doctor." She stood up, her height almost reaching the ceiling. "I'll be right back, Maur. Please don't slip away." She hesitated, looking at me once more as more tears slid down her face. Something deep in my heart ached with the most minute hint of recognition, but I couldn't place why or why this woman was crying for me.
She left the room in a hurry, an oversized blazer flapping around her hips as she called for a doctor.
I couldn't help it, my eyes closed on their own and I fell back asleep. Barely catching the murmurs of the beautiful woman exasperate in telling someone I was awake a second ago.
I let out a heavy breath, slipping deeper into slumber. I was hopeful when I woke up, the pain I felt would be gone and I could have a nice cup of tea to chase out the strange feeling in my heart.
Three months, five days, thirteen hours. That's how long the doctor told me I'd been in a medically induced coma. I kept pinching the skin on the underside of my wrist to tell myself I wasn't dreaming. I'd woken up with the beautiful woman with the wild black mane of hair sitting across the room, staring at me like I was a long lost relative. When I opened my eyes, she darted out of the room like before, returning with a doctor on her heels.
"Dr. Isles, I mean, Maura, are understanding what I'm explaining to you?" The doctor was kind. I remembered her from a conference I attended a year ago. It was on neurological advancements and traumatic brain injury. I'd gone to gather more research material to help in my own work at the medical examiner's office. "You had some trauma to your brain, that's why I'm here and why you'll be seeing a lot of me over the next few days."
I tried to smile, the pain still evident on my left side. "Yes, Dr. Beauchamp, and feel free to call me Dr. Isles if it suits you better. I do remember our lunch after the hard impact seminar, you're one of the best neurologists out there." I frowned as my voice refused to come out as more than a harsh rasp. "I just don't understand how I got here. I barely remember leaving work the other night. And I'd like to know why I was induced into a coma, and the extent of my injuries." I blamed the cocktail of drugs I was on for my complete sense of calm. Opting for hard facts before emotions.
The beautiful woman stood up from her seat, gnawing on a fingernail. "Do you remember anyone around you that night?" Her speech was rapid fire, intense. It startled me, the huskiness of her voice sent shivers over my skin.
Dr. Beauchamp held up her hand, stopping the woman. "Jane, put the detective away for a minute. Maura just woke up and we need to assess a few things." The woman, Jane grunted and threw her hands on her hips, lifting her blazer up enough for me to spot a gold police badge and the edge of a gun holster. I grew very nervous, twisting the blanket across my chest in my fingers. "Why are the police here? Have I done something illegal?"
Dr. Beauchamp glanced at Jane, her eyes conveying a heavy sense of worry, before she returned to me. A small professional smile plastered on her face. "No, you haven't broken the law, Maura." She smoothed out her lab coat, moving to sit on the edge of my bed. Her face turned even more professional, "Do you know this woman behind me?"
I stared at the dark-haired woman, still chewing mercilessly on her finger, brown eyes boring into mine. I tried hard to place her, knowing Dr. Beauchamp was asking an important question. I knew it had to do something with the horrible pain in the back of my head, but I was too foggy to attempt a self-diagnosis. After a moment of searching my mind, I came up empty. I titled my head away from the woman and shook my head. "No, I've never met her before. I'm sorry." I twisted the blanket into tighter knots, feeling my heart lurch into my stomach as the woman made a sound that was much like a sob, and rushed out of the room. Her hand covering her mouth. The second she was gone, I looked up at Dr. Beauchamp. "Have I done something wrong? Should I know who that Jane is?"
Dr. Beauchamp patted my leg, "You're fine. But I think I have an idea on what tests to run on you, now that you're awake." She stood up slowly, grabbing my chart. "I expected this after the trauma you suffered and the injuries your body absorbed." She scribbled quickly with a pen, "I would like you to rest a little more, get adjusted to being awake and I'll be back with one of your other friends. I want to test one more thing, before we tell you everything that happened."
I nodded, "Something horrible. If it was a simple accident, you would've told me by now and given me an inspirational speech of how I'm on the rapid road to recovery." I ran my eyes over my thin hands and arms. "Am I supposed to know that woman? Is that why you asked? Do you believe I might have a form of amnesia? The last time I looked at my hands, they were full, healthy. Not bony and weak."
"Rest first, Dr. Isles. Leave the diagnosing to me." Dr. Beauchamp smiled, setting my chart in the slot across the room. "I'll be back in an hour with your other friend, it'll be another police officer from Boston Police. If you recognize them, I'll allow them to answer all of your questions. But if it becomes to much, I'll kick them out."
I smiled, "Thank you." As she went to leave, I called out after. "Was I supposed to know who that woman was? She seemed very upset that I didn't."
Dr. Beauchamp's smile faltered for a moment, "One step at a time, Dr. Isles. You've been asleep a long time, I don't want to shock your system until I have a better idea what's going on with your brain injury."
I nodded as she left the room, half closing the door behind her. I turned to look out the window, still fidgeting with the blanket in my hands. Deep down, through the drugs and the blank spots, I knew something horrible had happened and I'd lost more than just a few months.
- Jane -
"There are signs of possible amnesia, but I need to do more testing." The doctor wouldn't look at me. "It's only the second day she's been awake, Detective Rizzoli. We have to be patient and not push. Dr. Isles did just wake up."
I ran my hands through my hair, yanking at the roots sharply. "She stared at me like I was goddamn stranger! She has no idea who I am!" I paused, realizing my voice was rising to an all out yell. "I gotta figure out what happened to Maur, who did… that to her."
Dr. Beauchamp nodded, sliding a chart across the counter at the nurses station. "I understand you want to find those who attacked Dr. Isles, but you need to be patient. She's still very fragile." She cocked an eyebrow at me, one that made me feel like I was back in catholic school.
I huffed, feeling like an idiot at the silent dressing down the doctor was giving me. "Trust me, I know." I ran my hands through my hair for the millionth time. "This amnesia? If she has it…"
"I haven't proven my suspected diagnosis yet." Beauchamp looked away from me. "No point in jumping the gun, Detective."
"Hey Jane! The doc is awake!" I turned to see Barry Frost half jog down the hallway, a giant grin on his face. "That's amazing!"
I nodded, falling into the hard plastic chairs across from the nurses station. "Yeah, she is. But that's not why I called you." I glanced at my partner, "I need you to do something for me."
"Sure Jane, but I'm shocked you're not in the room sitting next to the doc." He looked above my shoulder, looking into Maura's room. "She looks not to bad, considering." He halted the rest of words when he saw my face twist. "Sorry, I know it's been a rough few months…"
"She doesn't know who I am. She flinched when I got closer, she stares right through me in that polite stare she does to be polite. I asked her straight out, she flat out said no. Maura can't lie." I swallowed the giant lump in my throat, looking up at Barry. I was fighting not to break down and cry in front of everyone. "She has no damn idea who I am."
Barry slumped into the chair next to me, clasping my shoulder with a comforting hand. "Jane, it'll be fine. She was knocked around and been in a three month nap." He squeezed my shoulder, "It's not your fault."
I closed my eyes, leaning forward on my elbows. "It was, it is." I let out a slow breath. "I said something to Maura that night, it threw her off and she was distracted. I should've waited for her. Walked her to her car instead of hiding in my apartment obsessing about what was going to happen when she came to my apartment." I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. I'd majorly screwed up. Maura had been pushing me about going on a date with that dumb FBI agent, it caused me to lose my temper. A temper stretched out and tested by our most recent case, and burying my feelings for my best friend, and I exploded. The word vomit was excessive, and I will remember the exact shocked look on Maura Isles face when I told her I was in love with her. Quickly followed by me running out of her office, mumbling that I couldn't do this as I ran. I ran right to my crappy apartment and barricaded myself in with Jo. Maura called over and over, leaving me messages that she would be coming over the second she was done with the last body of the night.
Maura never showed up. I got drunk and passed out on my bed, Jo curled up on my head. My cell phone woke me up, Ma calling incessantly. "Ma, I'm going to change my number if you don't stop."
"Janie! Maura's in the hospital! Someone hurt her…"
I didn't have to hear the rest, I was already running out of the apartment. Thankful I'd passed out in my clothes. I drove full lights and sirens to the hospital, parking my cruiser literally on the curb. I pushed through nurses and doctors, slamming my badge in the faces of anyone who dared to stop me.
I found Ma, Korsak, Barry and Frankie all standing in a circle. Frankie had spots of blood on his shirt, and my knees almost buckled at the sight. I knew in the way he looked at me, it was Maura's.
"Korsak, talk to me." I charged at him like a angry bull. "Where is she?"
Frankie stopped me, grabbing my arms. "Janie, settle down. You can't go in. She's in surgery, they took her as soon as we got her here."
I ripped my arms free, "What the hell is going on? Someone talk before I really lose my shit." My heart raced every time I glanced at the blood on his shirt, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
Korsak stepped forward, using Frankie as a shield. He was afraid of the wild look in my eyes. "Jane, we're still looking into it. Maura was attacked in the parking lot after hours. She was…hurt and left alone. If it wasn't for a patrol officer stepping out for a smoke, she would've laid there until morning."
I growled, "Where is she!" I saw the panic in his eyes, and in the way he took a stuttered step back. I looked at my ma. "MA! Will someone tell me where the hell Maura is!" My voice boomed through the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and startling half of the hospital staff milling around us.
My Ma ran up to me, her eyes red and puffy. She'd been crying and that wasn't a good sign. "Janie, let's go outside." She grabbed my elbow, tugging me away from Frankie. I clenched my jaw, trying so hard not to throw up everywhere. I was three steps outside when Ma started rattling off Maura's injuries. Head trauma, broken ribs, arms, sever facial bruising, lacerations. I clenched my fists, pacing around my ma. She reached for me a few times, but I flinched away. I didn't want to be touched, only Maura could touch me when I was on the verge of losing it. But Maura was in surgery and all I could think about was how this was my fault.
"Jane? You zoned out on me." Barry tapped my shoulder. He was standing in front of me, smoothing out his tie. "I'm going to go in there and talk to Maura. The doctor has a theory and wants to test it out. She asked me to bring the case file and pictures of everyone Maura knows."
I shot my head up, my rage building back up. "Why couldn't I go in there and do that? I'm her best friend! I know everything about her, she knows everything about me." I stood up reaching for the file. "Let me do this, I have to do this. I have to fix this."
I snatched the file from Barry and took three steps in with Barry right behind me, calling out for me to slow down.
Maura looked my way, a soft smile on her face. I had to swallow hard looking at her. She'd grown so thin and fragile while in the coma. She looked as if she could break like glass if someone spoke to loudly. "Hello."
I couldn't help smile at the sound of her voice, no matter how raspy it was, I missed it. "Hey Maur. I need to ask you a few things." I looked in her hazel eyes, my heart falling as I saw there was not an iota of recognition, just politeness. "You know who I am?"
Maura shrugged, "You're that detective who was in my room earlier. Am I under protective custody? Is that why you were sleeping on my bed?" She gave me a questioning look with the patented Maura head tilt.
I went to open my mouth when Maura's gaze turned to look over my shoulder, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Barold! Hello!" She held out a frail hand towards my partner, making my heart ache.
Barry moved around me, "Hey Maura, it's great to see you awake. We've missed you." He bent down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
Maura smiled, clearly happy to see Barry. "Tired, weak, confused. It's wonderful to see you." She turned to me, "Is this your new partner? Dr. Beauchamp said a friend of mine would be in to talk about the incident. I can do my best, but I am still very foggy with my memories."
Barry looked at me with those stupid puppy dog eyes of his, a silent apology. "Um, Maura, this is Jane. You remember Jane? Jane Rizzoli?" I clenched the file in my hand, crinkling the edges.
Maura frowned, "The name sounds very familiar." She titled her head down, "I think I know an Angela Rizzoli, and a Frank Rizzoli, jr. But I can't place their faces." She wrapped her hand in the light blue blanket on her lap. "I don't know if I've ever met a Jane Rizzoli. I'm sorry Barold. I'm more observant and usually memorize most of the detectives at the precinct." Maura ran a bandaged hand across her forehead, sighing in frustration. "Everything is blurry."
I couldn't take anymore. I shoved the file into Barry's chest and stormed out of the room. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent from crying. I waited until I was in the driver's seat of my cruiser to let out my anger. I pounded on the steering wheel with closed fists until the tingled with pain. Then damn broke and the hard-angry sobs ripped out of my throat. I cried until my ribs hurt, and I couldn't breathe anymore.
Maura had forgotten me. The love of my life didn't know who I was, and it looked like I'd never existed in her world. This was my fault, this was payback for being a stupid chicken shit about my feelings and throwing them at Maura like a dirty wet shirt.
How the hell would I fix this? Could I fix it?
N: so this was an idea i had, it's not totally original but I wanted to try something different. Before you say anything, the idea is that Maura has retrograde amnesia and while researching it, i found stories of people remembering most of their family members but not remembering their spouse, or significant other. It's a weird phenomenon where the brain cycles out the deeply connected memories to protect the rest of the brain. Since Jane laid a significant truth bomb on Maura, Maura was already walking around with an emotional kick to the gut and her injury amplified it. I'll do my best with these characters, and the eventual crime, but I'm still learning them. I just wanted to write a love story and this helps with my writing of Devils 2 since there's a couple of characters in there that are a lot like Maura and Jane.
Read on and enjoy, if it's no good, I'll probably shelve this one. Also, don't worry I have an update to In your eyes halfway done. Inspiration struck on this one first...
