Disclaimer: Not Mine.
She had been terrified. Maura had run for the door as soon as the EMTs took charge of Frankie, desperate to get back to Jane. She had heard the terror in Jane's voice, seen the hesitation on the faces of every cop present as one of their own was held hostage, even before she made it out the door. And then she'd heard the gunshot. And more than anything, she'd felt an overwhelming numbing sensation as she watched Jane tumble to the ground alongside Bobby. She was certain she'd never felt anything quite like it in the past. She'd felt terror, fear, worry. None of it compared to the numbness that had creeped up on her in the aftermath of that gunshot. She remembered running towards Jane, vaguely remembered Korsak pulling her away to let the EMTs take her away, and had flashes of riding through the city in a squad car towards the hospital. Then it settled into an endless loop of white walls and bustling nurses, broken only by the arrival of Jane and Frankie's parents.
Maura doesn't think Angela has stopped crying or demanding updates for a single moment since she's been called, but she knows better than to open her mouth to offer reassurances. The number of things that can go wrong with bullet wounds revolve in her thoughts. She knows she would just say something about them and make everything worse, giving words to the terrible possibilities that lay in store for the family. Maura feels her terror of humans, and interacting with them, more acutely than she ever has around a member of the Rizzoli family. She wishes Jane could just be alright, because when Jane's around she doesn't have to worry about what she says. No matter how much Jane might complain about being embarassed.
So without Jane, she sits in silence. The distraught parents don't seem to even realize she's there, and Frost and Korsak seem content standing there looking worried, though she catches each of them shooting her concerned looks now and then. She doesn't realize how pale she is, or that she has a bloodstain on her shirt, and more on her knees. All she does is hope that Jane comes out okay.
Some hours later, they're finally informed that there's nothing more the surgeons can do, and that the rest of the fight is up to Jane and Frankie. The only comfort the doctors offer is that everything went well, and the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been.
The two injured officers are put into a white-walled room together, side by side, and Maura holds back while the Rizzoli parents rush to see their children, and hold their hands.
It was when Maura realized she was fidgeting that she decided she had to get out of the room. She couldn't stand watching Jane lie there, surrounded by pristine white hospital sheets that looked so similar to the ones she used every day to cover bodies in the morgue. The emotions shining in Angela and Frank's eyes were eerily similar to the ones she saw in the families of other victims.
She made an excuse. Something about coffee, the bathroom. She can't remember, and it doesn't matter anyway. Frost and Korsak catch her as she leaves, and they insist that she go home and catch a nap and eat a solid meal. They promise to call her as soon as anything happens, and every couple of hours even if nothing does. She can't argue with them, she doesn't have the energy, but once she's sitting in her car she can't bring herself to drive away. Instead she sits in the driver's seat of her car, head on her hands on the steering wheel, and tries not to let the image of Jane falling to the ground replay behind her eyelids. She falls asleep almost despite herself, and wakes from a dream of gunfire a few hours later as her phone rings.
Korsak's tired voice comes through the phone clear, letting her know there's been no changes, but that Jane looks a bit better. It's a relief. It means Jane is more likely to recover. Hearing the exhaustion in Korsak's voice however, makes her realize this isn't just hard on her. Korsak and Frost are as much Jane's family as her parents are. He doesn't voice a word of complaint, and tells her to get more sleep, because she still sounds like she needs it. She tells him how he should be the one getting more sleep, for as an older man he has less resilience and stamina to rely on, but he just says he's used to it, and hangs up.
Frost calls her the next time, and then Korsak again. She doesn't leave the hospital, but stays in her car, unwilling to be further away from Jane when she's in danger, but unable to stand watching her friend's shallow breathing. Maura naps fitfully between phone calls, starting awake with every noise that echoes through the parking lot.
By the time morning arrives, she is more rested, despite the frequent awakenings, and the last call from Frost had brought with it the good news that the doctors had declared Jane fully stable. After the sun is fully above the horizon, she abandons her car, deciding it's time to go back in.
The first thing she hears as she walks back towards the hospital room is the crying. Jane's mother, she knows, even before it becomes loud enough for her to recognize the familiar voice.
Her steps quicken without her realizing it, as she focuses on the sounds coming from the room that holds her best friend. There is such a cacophony of sound she can't make out what anyone is saying, just that nearly everyone is talking at the top of their lungs, and those that aren't talking are crying.
Maura slows as she approachs the open door, hesitant, afraid of what she will see around the corner. Is it worse than they thought after all?
"Will you quit crying, Ma? We're gonna be fine." Maura sags against the wall. That's Jane's voice. She shouldn't be talking yet, let alone shouting loud enough to be heard over her mother, but Maura knows that Jane just can't keep quiet when her family is upset. And they're certainly upset right now, with two of their children in the hospital with gunshot wounds.
She listens from the door, not really hearing what's being said, as the worried mother begins to relax, and believe that maybe everything will be okay after all. It's when she hears her name that she finally begins to take notice again.
"Where's Maura? She's alright, isn't she?" Maura imagined easily the look that was on Jane's face. Worry and demand would both be in evidence, and a determination to make sure everyone important was alright. What Maura feels at being important to someone, and having it confirmed in such a way, can only be described as warm and fuzzy.
"She's fine. We sent her home to rest last night. She was pretty shook up." Frost's voice carries over Angela's quieting sobs.
There is some quiet mumbling and muttering, and the last of the crying finally stops. "Well, is someone going to call her and tell her I'm awake?"
Maura can't help herself anymore. She steps into the doorway, and when she sees Jane's eyes, open and aware, it feels like the weight of the world has lifted from her shoulders. She waves a greeting, and when Jane looks at her she smiles, and sees an answering smile.
"Hey, Maura. You alright?"
Maura's answer is long and technical, and full of words that few people in the room understand, but Jane understands everything she means, if not the meanings of the words themselves. Even when Jane's in a hospital bed, Maura can count on her to listen, and to understand like only a best friend can. She means "I'm glad you're going to be alright, and I'm going to be fine once I get some food, uninterrupted sleep, and clean clothes."
When she finishes, Jane gives her a tired smile, then fixes a frown on Korsak and Frost. "Frost, didn't you say you made her go home and get some rest?"
At Frost's now worried affirmative, Jane's frown turns into a glare. "If Maura went home, then why would she come back wearing the same clothes, with the same bloodstains?"
The combination of relief at Jane's awakening and the consternation apparent on both of the other officer's faces was enough to send the rest of the room into laughter.