A/N: Years ago I wanted this written. And now i write so boom. Trigger warning: Suicide.
"Get out Jane." Maura said with a blank face.
Jane's brow rose and she laughed disbelievingly, "What?"
"You heard me. We're done. Get out."
Jane's eyes widened, "Maura, what? No. We-We can work it out. Whatever it is. Let's just sit down a-and talk about it!"
Maura picked up the suitcase and shoved it into Jane's arms. "I don't want to. I want you out. I'm done with you, Jane. Go home."
Jane allowed herself to be pushed out. She shook her head, staring at Maura confused. "You are my home."
Maura slammed the door in her face and Jane felt it resonate through her body. "Maura please." She shouted, though did little else, shocked by the sudden and unexpected break up.
The door opened and she felt relief flood through her body. She opened her mouth to speak, but Maura beat her to it.
"Oh and do not come by here again or I will alert the authorities."
Her heart shattered, the bubble of hope dissipating as quickly as it built.
"Goodbye Jane."
The door slammed again and Jane, shocked into compliance, walked back to her car, numb.
Jane tried contacting Maura for months after the incident, though she never returned to the house. After a few months, Maura moved away and Jane felt as empty as the house. She couldn't understand what happened, why Maura had suddenly thrown her out. After the break up, she had stocked up on whiskey, drinking it once a week and passing out to ease her heartache and help her sleep.
Every night the slam of Maura's door jolted her awake and she would sit up, sobbing for the woman, hoping it was just a dream. It was only when she was drunk could she sleep through the dreams. As each year passed, the dreams grew worse. It took more and more to keep them at bay. So, she increased her intake. 1 bottle. 1 and a half. 2. Nightly. Daily. Hourly. It kept her in a continuously numb state and when she had no work, she would drink until she was unconscious.
Of course, she had tried dating again, years after the breakup, but she always compared the woefully inadequate women to Maura. Eventually, she stopped dating, the pain too great. 10 years after the breakup, Jane had quit her job. She couldn't handle walking down to the morgue and not seeing Maura smiling at her. On the 17th anniversary of the breakup, she had given up completely. Drunk, she wrote a note and held to it tightly.
She stared at it, and drank from the bottle. She carried it to her bedroom as she drunk more and more. She clutched the note tightly as she drunk swig after swig until she no longer thought of Maura. She no longer thought of those honey brown eyes or the way Maura said her name. The sound of her laughter. She no longer thought of those strong fingers playing in her hair. She drunk and drunk and drunk until she no longer thought of those curves. She no longer thought of how Maura felt. Except, she did. Her face fell into the pillow and her eyes closed, unconscious as she suffocated, her last thought, "I'll love her till I die."
Maura stood far away, behind one of the many willow trees, watching the funeral from afar. She knew better than to attend. They all blamed her. She had heard of Jane's destructive behavior but she had hoped...
"You!" Someone at her. Angela. "Get out of here! How dare you!" She sobbed, "My baby!" Angela's knees gave out and one of her sons caught her. Maura turned and left.
She returned to her old job, and ignored the rumors, the looks. She worked to quickly end every case she was presented with. Speed she knew Jane would've appreciated.
She worked from morning till night, hiding the whiskey on her breath. Maura was never a whiskey kind of girl until Jane died. She drunk it to remind her of Jane, of what she did to Jane. And she drunk it to forget Jane. It took quite a bit to make her forget. Some nights she woke up in her own vomit, having pushed her body to its limits. For years that was her routine. Work, drink, Jane. Work, drink, Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane.
"What have I done?!" She sobbed. "I'm sorry Jane. I-I was afraid! Afraid you'd die and I'd be left alone. Just like this." She threw the bottle, smashing it against the wall. "It's all my fault."
Her nightly apology. No matter how drunk she got, she apologized to Jane. She couldn't forget her. No matter how drunk she got, or how many times she passed out, Jane was on her mind.
The day of the 23rd anniversary of their break up, the 6th of Jane's death, she had begun hallucinating, seeing Jane everywhere she went. It was a combination of whisky, heartache, guilt, and far too many sleepless nights. Sometimes she smiled at the vision. Other times, the guilt was too much. The lieutenant sent her home after she had screamed at the smiling ghost of Jane at a crime scene.
She burst through her door and immediately picked up the bottle that was waiting for her to arrive. Little by little, she consumed it and grabbed another bottle. Soon, she drank that too and grabbed the picture of Jane. In her delirious state, she saw the picture of Jane materialize into the woman herself and walk to Maura's bedroom. She stumbled after the woman, smiling even as tears rolled down her face.
"Jane." She breathed and fell to the bed right beside the smiling brunette.
"Oh, Jane. I'm so sorry." Her vision blurred and her fingers clung to the picture even as she suffered the same fate as Jane. The bottle in her other hand fell to the ground and rolled, empty.
