So yeah, here's another one shot that I couldn't get outta my head. I hope you like it, let me know.
Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.
"Hey Ma, any pancakes going this morning?" I say, shivering, as I walk in from the cold.
"There sure are, I made a batch knowing you would be in soon and you always love pancakes in the snowy weather." With that Ma places a plate of bunny pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.
"Thanks Ma, I even appreciate the bunnies." I'm famished but first I take the coffee cup in my hands to try warm them up. They hurt. Its the cold. The scars feel like they have scalpels in them all over again. In vain I try chasing the cold and pain away with the heat from the cup.
I see Ma look at me with a puzzled look so I pick up the fork to start eating but I immediately know that's not going to happen. My hands are in so much pain that I can't even hold the fork properly. The pain is stabbing through my hands and reverberating up my fingers, rendering them almost useless.
"Do you know what Ma? I'm not all that hungry, I'll come back for something later on." I stand up, give Ma a kiss on the cheek and try to hurry out with my coffee in my hand, hoping she wont notice me clenching and unclenching my other one. But it seems like today is not my day.
"Jane, what's wrong? Is it your hands? Do they hurt?" Ma reaches out and tries to take my hands in hers but I pull away before she can. I don't like people touching my hands. My scars.
"See you later Ma." I say turning to leave and almost missing the pained look on my mothers face. Almost.
After a half hour at my desk I'm wishing an praying for a case. But I'm also wishing and praying not to have a case. I hate being stuck doing paperwork but I know that I can't drive or shoot with my hands in this condition.
I've been struggling through paperwork since I got here and I've gotten one paragraph written. I notice Frost keeps glancing from my paper to my hands quizzically.
"Jane are you okay? You seem really distracted all day." He asks.
"Sorry Frost, yeah I'm just a little tired, didn't sleep the best." I actually had a nightmare. Again.
"You sure you're okay?" He asks, knowing there's something more that I'm not telling him but when I nod he doesn't push it.
I seem to spend more time massaging my hands over the next hour than writing. It gets to the point where it's even too painful to hold the pen never mind write with it.
Being me I won't even think about taking pain killers so I stand up to get another cup of coffee, hoping that will do the trick this time. "Anyone want coffee while I'm going?"
Frost looks around the crowded bullpen before standing up and following me out. The two of us enter the empty break room before he says anything.
"Jane what's going on? You're my partner, I know you and I deserve to know what's wrong."
"Do you really want to know what's wrong?" His only reply is to nod. "This Frost, this is what's wrong." I say holding up my hands, palms facing him before flipping them over to show him the backs of my hands.
He looks at me, confused. "Jane...I..."
"No, you possibly couldn't understand." I snap at him before catching myself and dropping my voice "No one shoved a scalpel through your palms. It's the cold, it makes my hands hurt, makes them hurt a lot."
He reaches out as if to touch my hands but I pull away ever so slightly before Korsak leans around the doorway "We got a case, lets go."
"Don't mention this to anyone, it'll go away."
"Okay Jane, I got your back." But I don't miss the look of hurt in his eyes at having me flinch away from his touch.
"Okay so Frost you're staying here to help with the canvass right?"
"Sure thing."
"Okay Korsak, lets move out." I don't wait for him to follow knowing he will.
We get to the car and he goes to get into the passenger side, knowing I like to drive. "Hey man, you wanna drive?"
He looks at me confused, he knows something is wrong. "Sure, give me the keys."
We ride in silence and I hope that he wont say anything but today is just not my day "What's going on with you?"
I play dumb. "What are you talking about?"
"Jane, I know you know what I'm talking about, why the hell did you let me drive, you love to drive."
My answer comes out as a whisper "I can't."
"I don't speak mumble."
"I can't, okay?" I say on the verge of shouting.
"You can't?"
"No I can't. It's my hands." I say, massaging them which are worse after being outside.
"After Hoyt?" He takes one hand off the steering wheel and goes to cover mine with it but I move them before he can.
"Yes now drop it!" Thankfully he does and the rest of the drive passes in silence.
I let myself in, not even bothering to knock. "Hey. How are you?" I ask my best friend, who is sitting on the couch reading one of her medical journals, as I sit beside her.
"Jane don't. The darkening of the nasojugal fold indicates fatigue and vitamin deficiencies but I sense there's something else wrong. You were acting weird all day but I didn't want to say anything in front of the boys. What's going on?"
"Maura...I..." I simply don't know where to begin. My hands are aching and she seems to sense this. She places her journal on the table beside her and reaches out and wraps both her hands around mine before I can even hesitate. Not like I would anyway. It's Maura. My hands immediately start to feel better for the first time all day.
"Just take your time, it's okay, I'm here." By the look in her eyes I know she always will be.
"You're right, I haven't been sleeping. Every night I wake up screaming. It's him. I dream he has Ma or Frankie, Tommy or Frost, Korsak or...or you. Those ones are the worst."
"Jane it's okay, he can't hurt you or anyone anymore, remember, you killed him. But I sense there's something else wrong." She knows me so well.
"Yeah, you're right." I'm still hesitant to tell her. I don't want her looking at me like Ma, Frost or Korsak so I look down into my lap.
She scoots closer to me. "Hey, look at me, you can tell me anything and I won't think any different of you." And I know she won't.
I look up and her eyes are bright and warm. "It's my hands, they hurt it's-"
"The cold" She finishes for me. "This is actually pretty common for people with scarring on their hands or feet." I instantly feel better, how is it she exactly what to say? "They report that massaging is the best cure. I have some lotion upstairs, wait here, I'll be right back." She flashes me a smile before she leaves, one of my favourite sights in the world.
That's when it hits me. I'm in love with my best friend. She's beautiful, I've always acknowledged that but now I see her differently I realise just how beautiful. She says she's socially awkward but she always knows what to say when there's something wrong. She's unbelievably smart and her google-mouth, which everyone finds annoying, I find adorable, as are her habits about her tidiness and little regimes. The parts of her that annoy me are also the parts I love the most. But most of all she can touch my hands. No one touches my hands, but she can. I love all of her.
I hear her coming back down the stairs and feel surprisingly calm. She sits down beside me and I give her my hands without a second thought. I trust her completely. She begins to massage them and immediately relief swells throughout my body.
She's taking such care with them and that's when it hits me. She loves me too. The little looks and touches, the way she always knows what's wrong, the fact that she didn't kiss Tommy. The little things she does like bring me coffee and the big things like open up to me. She loves me too.
"Maur?"
"Mmm." She replies off in her own world.
"I love you, I'm in love with you." Her head snaps up and surprise crosses her face.
"You do?"
"I do." I really do.
"Good because I'm in love with you too. Can I ask you something though?"
"Anything."
"What made you realise?"
"You can touch my hands."