The Rustle of a Wing
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rizzoli&Isles and those two wonderful characters named Jane and Maura are property of TNT and other very lucky people. This is merely for fun.
Spoilers: Episodes up to 5x09 "It Takes a Village", and general knowledge of the series.
A/N: Here's my new R&I story. Hope you like it. It starts right after the closing scene of "It Takes a Village" and follows our two favorite characters until the next morning.
Special thanks to my beta, Nic, for making sure this was good enough to be posted.
Title was inspired by the following quote:
In the night of death,
hope sees a star,
and listening love can hear
the rustle of a wing.
- Robert Ingersoll
"So, how are you doing?"
"How am I supposed to be doing?"
"I have no idea."
"Me neither."
Jane Rizzoli bent over the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing two handfuls of icy liquid on her tired face. She could feel the familiar pounding at the base of her skull, herald of an impending headache.
So much for a relaxing evening.
In the living room, the rest of the gang was still watching the game and drinking beer like they didn't have a care in the world. Feeling weary and sore, she had excused herself after the fifth inning and slipped inside Maura's great bathroom, pushing the door shut behind her as if it could also help to keep her dark musings at bay.
"I can't do this alone, Maura."
"Nobody can. It takes a village. And your family and me are happy to be your village."
She appreciated their efforts to try and make her feel better, but she wasn't sure she needed a village tonight. Despite her normal facade, losing her baby had left her disconnected and empty, so in the past few days she had sternly repressed the tears and focused her attention on Tasha. Shoulder someone else's problems so you don't have to think of your own, they say. It had worked for a while, until she'd found Tasha a place to live. Now that the girl was safe with Gwen and she had been discharged - under strict orders to just sit and rest - the feeling of emptiness had returned.
"I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry about me."
Was she?
Her reflection appeared in the mirrored medicine cabinet as she stood up, water dripping off her nose and chin, and it almost startled her. She had never looked so drawn, so completely exhausted before. Not even when Hoyt was alive and threatening to kill her.
Rattled, Jane grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped her face, trying to blame her haggard appearance on the lack of sleep. And the headache. The low pounding had quickly escalated to a painful throb that, combined with the pain from her bruised organs, was making it difficult to enjoy the freedom of being out of the hospital.
She opened the cabinet, looking for Ibuprofen or some other kind of medication to knock herself out. For once, she was going to follow her doctor's orders and go straight to sleep.
The shelves were lined with dental floss, aspirin and various other supplies. After a quick scan, Jane picked up an orange plastic bottle sitting alone at the left bottom. Knowing Maura, that's where she'd probably put her prescriptions. A glance at the label confirmed it was one of the medicines she had been instructed to take. Jane smiled. It still amazed her how well they knew each other, so well that they barely needed words to express their feelings.
As much as she had tried to hide it, Jane knew Maura had sensed her mental and physical discomfort. It was clear from the sideways glances her friend had shot at her as they were sitting on the couch, or the proposal that she choose the dinner menu. Not to mention the shampoo with all the fruity-smelling chemicals Maura had bought for her, even if she despised it.
Popping one of the white, oval pills into her mouth, Jane made a mental note to say thank you and treat her to a special dinner when all this was over. And while she was at it, she promised to be more patient the next time Doctor Isles started rattling off her fun facts in the middle of an investigation.
As if on cue, she heard a light rap on the door. "Jane? Are you okay?"
"Be right out," she called, once again aware of the concern in her friend's voice. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom.
Maura studied her intently, frowning as she noticed Jane's tousled hair and red-rimmed eyes. She shook her head disapprovingly. "You shouldn't have had anchovies, the doctor just cleared you for solid food. Do you know they contain high amounts of domoic acid, which might lead to extreme gastrointestinal problems?"
"What?" Jane's brow furrowed. "My intestines are fine, Maura." It's my heart that's broken. She stood still for a moment, listening for sounds within the house. "Are they gone?"
Maura nodded. "I told them you needed to rest. Your mother wanted to stay, but I warned her you were going to be extremely grumpy due to the probable constipation and the pain, and she agreed to leave you under my supervision."
"Gee, thanks. I guess."
"Which reminds me, I put the Vicodin here in the cabinet," she said, pointing to the piece of furniture. "You can take one before going to bed if you're in pain. The rest of your medication is on the bedside table in your room. Those need to be taken every twelve hours, so two tonight and two in the morning after breakfast."
"I know." Jane folded her arms across her chest. "I just took a pill. Figured I'd call it an early night."
Maura's frown grew deeper. It was not like Jane at all to be this passive. The only time she'd seen her like this had been after Frost's death. Maybe she had underestimated the psychological consequences of this last ordeal. "I'm so sorry, Jane," she whispered, reaching across the space that separated them to touch her friend's shoulder. "What can I do?"
"Be patient. I'll be better tomorrow."
"I know you will. I'll be here if you need me before then."
Jane mouthed a 'thank you' and gave her friend a warm smile before heading to the bedroom. The lights were out, but Maura's house was so familiar that she didn't even bother to turn them on and went straight to the queen-size bed, collapsing on top of it.
She was going to get better.
Just not tonight.
Maura Isles was a light sleeper. Years of medical school had trained her to jump at the smallest noise and function on two, three hours of sleep per night, so when she heard the rustle coming from the kitchen at 3:45 in the morning she tossed the covers aside, grabbed her silk, floral robe and got out of bed.
Walking quietly, guided by the moonlight filtering in through the windows, she found Jane standing by the stove, hands resting on the edge of the counter, staring off into the distance.
"Hey," she called softly so she wouldn't scare her.
Jane tilted her head at the sound of her friend's voice, her long curls spilling from behind her ear like a curtain. "Hey. Did I wake you?"
"You didn't. I came to get a glass of water," she lied. "How are you feeling?"
Jane shrugged. "Still sore." She lowered her gaze, focusing on tracing invisible patterns on the counter's smooth surface. "Sad, confused," she added a moment later.
When the brunette looked back up at her, Maura saw turmoil and pain in those dark eyes. She covered one of Jane's hands with her own. "Jane, talk to me. It isn't healthy to withdraw into oneself after a traumatic experience. You need to share your feelings with other people."
Jane cleared her throat, trying to distance herself from her emotions. "What do you want me to say? I've been careless, Maura. Simple as that. I took risks when I should've chosen to stay put." She walked past her friend and dropped onto the couch, head between her hands.
Maura followed but remained standing. She wanted to say something, anything, but she didn't know what. Moments passed, the silence growing strained before she finally sat down next to her and brushed her arm slightly.
Jane stiffened, as if undeserving of such a kind gesture. "It's my fault. All of this. I didn't tell Cavanaugh I was pregnant because I knew he was gonna put me on desk duty, so I kept chasing after suspects and putting my life in danger. I got shot at, almost blown up, and never once did it occur to me that maybe, maybe it was time to slow down."
"Because being a cop is who you are. It's in your blood."
"My mother was right; this baby never had a chance. When I was in that elevator with Tasha, all I could think was to get her out of there as fast as I could. Her. Not me. I gave her my vest without a second thought. I didn't- I didn't even think about..." She kept her arms crossed tight, holding herself as tears glimmered in her eyes. "I sacrificed my own child for the job. What kind of mother does that make me?"
Maura stared at her best friend as her own heart broke into a thousand pieces. She could see the pain in Jane's eyes, the struggle to control her emotions in the slight tremor of her lips. Once again, the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts was at a loss for words. It seemed foolish to be the one to offer comfort when she was so closely tied to the pain. "I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone," she finally blurted out. "I was with Jack and- Jane, I didn't think it could be something important. Now I can't stop asking myself if they could have... if I'd found you sooner."
"It's not your fault," Jane immediately reassured her, her voice firm.
"It's not your fault, either." Maura replied, hoping her tone was just as convincing.
"I never thought of myself as a mother, you know. But since that first ultrasound I laid in bed every night and- and thought how lucky I was to have this... this life growing inside of me."
"Oh, Jane," Maura instinctively reached out and pulled her friend into a hug. "It's going to be okay. You'll get another chance, and you will be a wonderful mother."
Jane held onto her, desperately willing a belief in those words. You don't know that, she thought silently.
"I do," Maura said clearly, as if she had heard her.
"Morning, ladies! Who's in the mood for bunny pancakes?" Angela Rizzoli barged into the living room, unannounced and loud as usual.
Maura woke up with a start, lifted her head off the couch cushion, and immediately held up a hand to silence her. "Ssshh! She's had a rough night," she said in a soft voice, pointing to Jane's sleeping form curled up next to her. "Fell asleep about an hour ago."
Angela's hand flew to her mouth. "Sorry," she whispered. She tiptoed towards them, taking in the sight of the two friends comfortably sharing the space and the blanket, and couldn't help thinking that despite being thirty-nine and - disappointingly - still unmarried, Jane was very lucky to have someone like Maura. Now, if she would only quit her job and do something safer...
"I'll start making breakfast," she stated in the softest voice she could muster. But it was already too late. Awakened by the noise and Maura's shift in position, Jane began to stir and opened her eyes. "Hey, Ma."
"Morning, sweetheart," Angela replied, bending down to kiss her daughter on the forehead. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'm good."
"Hope you're hungry. I was about to make you girls some pancakes."
Jane sat up, stretching her arms over her head and wincing at the pain that the movement caused her. "Can I just have coffee?"
Angela shook her head, offended by the mere thought of one of her own children refusing food. "Nonsense. You need to eat. Both of you, go take a shower," she ordered. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes."
The two friends shared an amused look and barely suppressed a smile as they got up from the couch and headed to their own respective bedrooms, leaving the older woman complete reign of the kitchen.
When Jane shuffled back a short while later, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and blueberry pancakes was enough to make her stomach grumble, and she reconsidered the thought of skipping the meal.
"Have a seat, honey," Angela said as soon as she saw her. She blotted her hands on a dish towel and proceeded to stack a towering pile of pancakes onto a plate.
Jane pulled out a chair but remained standing. A thought had been nagging at her brain, poisonous as a snake. A thought she'd hidden even from Maura. She bit her lower lip, debating once again whether or not to share her concern, but the words came out before she could stop them. "Do you think I'm a horrible person?"
"Why would I think that?"
She looked down, ashamed to meet her mother's eyes. "Because I didn't take care of my child."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Jane!" Angela set the plate down with a loud thud and threw her hands up in frustration. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Am I happy that you risk your life for a living? Of course not. Do I believe you should've told Sean? Maybe. But if you think that makes you a bad person or this is in any way your fault then you're not as smart as I always gave you credit for." She reached for her daughter's hands and laced them with her own. "Accidents happen, whether we like it or not. And we grow as people because of that. You'll get your chance. Hopefully while I'm still young enough to enjoy another grandchild."
Jane's lips softened into a smile. Everything's gonna be okay, she had been told at the hospital. Now, she finally believed those words. "Thanks, Ma. You're the smartest person I know."
"You bet," Angela winked. "Now, eat your pancakes before Maura gets here. I gave you all the bunnies."
THE END