Title: The Room In Your Heart
Author: tika12001 (aka Katie)
Rating: T
Word count: 1488
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, never will be, make no money, etc
Trigger warnings: very brief mention of the death of a child.
Other warnings: Rizzles. Wait, does that even need a warning? ;-)
Authors Notes: Written for the Rizzles Facebook group fanfic competition. Totally didn't win, but thought I'd post here anyway. Hopefully you enjoy. :-P (The theme of the competition was 'unconditional support'... we had to use a gif set for inspiration and throw our own spin on it - I used the 'are you okay' scene from season 4 - and include the line "this is the room where you don't have to be brave")
R&IR&IR&I
Jane... how do I describe her? She is strong, powerful, forceful... but she is also scared. Timid. Emotional. She thinks she hides her feelings well, and maybe she does from everyone else. But she cannot hide from me, just as I cannot hide from her. We have spent so much time together that I suppose it makes sense that we know each others 'tells'... the signs that we are about to lose the tenuous grip on our emotions, the signs that the tears are just about to fall.
We know when the other needs a pat on the back, a shoulder to cry on, a hug... or even a kiss.
And I suppose that's the story I'm telling you today. The story of how our support for each other... the unconditional love and commitment we share... has led to such a monumental change in our relationship.
She was always mine. And I was always hers.
The difference is, now we know it.
R&IR&IR&I
Her nose is red. That's my first clue.
Frankie used to call me Rudolph when I got upset.
Her nose is red, and I look at her in concern.
She nervously twists at her earphones and I know that they are there in an attempt to block out the world.
I don't know why I do it, Maura. I just... if I can just stop the noise, maybe everything will stop hurting, you know?
She pushes one of the earphones deeper into her ear, and glances in my direction. She sees me looking, and stares back.
"Are you okay?" I mouth, ignoring the flurry of activity that surrounds us both. In this moment, it is only her and I. I need her to understand that, to understand that she can trust me, that I am here.
She nods, forces a smile.
No, I'm not.
Her nose is still red. She still plays with her ear. The lines in her forehead have not completely vanished.
I don't believe her nod for a second.
She knows this, because she holds my gaze for a beat longer than necessary. She pleads with her eyes, speaks to me in a language so rare that we are the only two in the entire world who understand it, and I nod once in reply.
It's okay, my nod says.
You're okay, my smile whispers.
I'm here, my eyes declare.
Thank you, she replies.
I smile, and her gaze softens.
It is only minutes later, when Cavanaugh walks in the room and asks what she is still doing here, tells her that she should be at home, that her facade drops even further.
Please don't make me face myself.
"I can't go..." she pleads. "I can't, I have to... have to help, I..."
He is firm though, and I am grateful. Because this is why Jane works in homicide... she cannot handle the thought that there are people suffering out there... people that she thinks she should be able to save.
When they are dead, she knows it is too late to save them. But she can bring them justice.
When the victim is alive... it is a whole other story.
It is not her fault that the little girl died today. It is not her fault, but she thinks it is anyway. I can see it in her eyes, so I tug her hand, pull her with me, put her in my car and take her to my house. Bring her inside.
She sits on the couch, and somehow this woman that is bigger than life... looks so small. And tired.
I sit beside her. "It's not your fault," I say.
It is.
"It is," she whispers.
"It isn't."
"It IS!" she yells suddenly, before biting down hard on her hand.
It is, it is, it IS.
"I should have... should have..." she trails off. She shakes her head. "Never mind." She looks behind me, towards the kitchen. "I'd kill for a beer."
"Jane..." I say, but her eyes stop me.
Please, Maura. I need a minute.
I stand up, reluctantly heading to the kitchen. Her shoulders slump as soon as I walk away.
I don't want to be alone.
Within seconds, I am back on the couch, quest for beer forgotten, my arms wrapped around her.
"Why are you trying to hide?" I ask, and her whole body quakes.
Because...
"It's just me," I say, and her breath shudders.
I don't...
"Why are you..." I begin, but she stops me.
"I wanted to save her."
"I know you did."
A tear slips down her cheek. "I wanted to take her home to her mother and father."
I failed.
I feel my own eyes well up. "I... I know. You... you did your best." I wish I had something better to say, something to help her.
It wasn't enough. I didn't do enough.
"I wanted..." she stops, wipes the tears from her cheeks, laughs shakily. The noise of her laughter scares me more than anything. "God. I need to stop this. I'm a cop. I'm not supposed to be crying. I'm supposed to be brave."
I need to stop being a baby.
Finally, I know what to say as I reach out and tuck an errant curl behind her ear. "Oh Jane, don't you know?"
Her gaze lifts to mine questioningly. "Know what?" Her breath is still shaky, and as I watch, another tear slips down her cheek.
"This is the room where you don't have to be brave."
Her breath catches. She searches my eyes.
You're scaring me.
"Your lounge room?" she asks with a tentative attempt at a smirk, and I smile, shaking my head.
"No. This room. Right here." I take her hand and press it to my heart. "You never have to pretend anything with me, Jane. You never have to pretend to be strong if you feel weak, or happy if you feel sad. You don't have to pretend that you're not angry if you are, or that you're brave when you feel scared. I will never... ever... think less of you."
She blinks.
How do you always make me feel better?
"I don't know," I answer out loud. "How do you always manage to make me feel better?"
Her hand flexes against my chest... against my breast... and I look down.
"Ditto. Ditto to everything you said," she whispers, and I look up again.
"I love you, Jane," I murmur as I stare into her eyes, losing myself in the depths.
I love you forever.
"I love you," I say it again, happily, the words leaving my mouth like beautiful butterflies fluttering gracefully. She smiles at me and then abruptly leans forwards, falls into my arms, buries her head in the crook between my neck and my shoulder, and lets herself fall apart, trusting me to put her back together. I rub her back soothingly until she pulls back what seems like both endless hours and short seconds later.
I love you.
"I love you Maura."
I smile and stare at her for long moments, taking in the features that I think I know better than my own.
"This room..." she starts slowly, breaking the silence, "the one I don't have to be brave in. Can I also ask for what I want?"
I stare at her. Her body is telling me something, but I can't understand. Maybe I'm scared to understand.
Maybe I'm worried I will misinterpret it.
"Yes."
She looks at me.
I bite my lip.
"You aren't reading me," she says softly, with an amused smile lighting up her watery-eyed, red-nosed, unbelievably beautiful face.
"I'm trying to," I admit.
"Try harder."
"I'm scared."
"It's just me. And this is the brave room, remember?"
I take a deep breath and look down at my hands.
I look up, and she is looking back at me. I hear her voice flood my senses, and I gasp.
Kiss me.
"I..." I trail off, unsure of how to proceed, but she just smiles.
"Now you've got it."
R&IR&IR&I
When our lips met for the first time, I won't tell you that there were explosions. I won't tell you that I saw stars, or that the world righted itself, or any of the other nonsense that you will find in romance novels.
Because, when our lips met in that first kiss, there was none of that. No explosions, no stars, and the world was still as topsy turvy and 'wrong way up' as it has always been.
But, when our lips met, my world grew a little bit better.
My world grew a little bit brighter.
Because we moved into each other's rooms. We moved into each other's hearts, and when we moved, we found that we'd been living there all along.
All because of a silent language. A lot of love.
And unwavering, unconditional support.
You are my home, Maura.
And Jane, you are mine.
END
As always, it would be greatly appreciated if you could review but if not, thanks anyway and hope you enjoyed! Love to all! xo