Becoming Maura
Chapter Two

AN: still does not belong to me but to Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

Two weeks later, Maura was released from the hospital with hesitation from the doctors given her refusal to speak a few words even to Jane. Her injuries had required multiple surgeries for her broken ribs, dislocated joints and head trauma. The only lasting effect was some blurry vision after the repeated blows to the head she'd suffered at the hands and feet of her captor.

Jane tried despairingly to get her friend to speak. "Maura, you know you can talk to me, don't you?" She bent low into Maura's field of vision, but received no response. Jane began to panic about Maura's vision, but her doctors responded with reassurance that the effect of the concussion would fade and most likely ought to have gone by that point in time. It was simply that she didn't want to look. She did not want to see the reaction of others to her brokenness.

He overtook her in the parking garage, the blow to the back of her head so sudden that she could not fathom how she landed on the concrete so quickly while the world faded into a silent meaningless void. The next thing she knew, she was in the dark and it was taking away every part of her identity. Maura was in control but this person cowering in the darkness was humiliated, victimized.

"Maura? Can you hear me?" Jane noticed that her friend had zoned out again. How she wished Maura would share what had happened. However, speaking only one word at a time didn't leave much chance to find answers.

Yet Jane kept her promises. She provided her with everything that made her who she truly was in spite of what had occurred. There were the tortoise, the shoes, the expensive perfume and a nightly shampoo of Maura's honey blonde tresses. The first time Maura had attempted to bathe, she had become so exhausted that she fell asleep as soon as Jane had dried her hair and helped her to bed. It got better over time and Maura spoke a little more in quiet murmurs of thanks, lightening Jane's concerns by almost being herself as she talked in her normal way to Jane as they sat side by side on the green figured sofa in Maura's living room. It was safe and soothing to Maura for all the times they'd laughed or cried there, finding refuge in friendship and sometimes the solace of silence entwined with companionship.

Maura was deathly afraid of night and falling asleep, yet too shy to ask Jane to stay with her until the sun came up. But Jane understood wordlessly and curled up on the king sized bed across from her friend. Sooner or later Maura would enter the world of nightmares and Jane would quietly awaken her with soft words and reassuring promises. In time, it faded a bit, but was still present every single night.

In the middle of the night, Maura awakened to see her friend lying on the bed with her hands relaxed and posture unguarded. It was a position unusual for one who put effort out to strike others as invincible. Yet Maura knew better and found Jane all the stronger for her humanity and rare moments of vulnerability. Maura bit her lip as she regarded the scars on each hand. Rough pieces of skin upon each hand told of survival and ability to move through the imperfections of every new day. Jane was not broken. Yet she had suffered through something unimaginable. These scarred hands had both literally and figuratively infused life into Maura. If Jane wasn't broken, perhaps she wasn't either.

Perhaps the new day was good after all. One last glance at the olive skinned hands lying on the bed gave Maura the first moment of being herself since the attack. She would embrace the future.

The next morning, Maura wore the cobalt blue slingbacks and smiled to greet the day. She was herself again. And she knew it was due to her best friend.