"No peeking."
But you can't help yourself. You've never had a surprise before. You spread your fingers just enough to peer through the gap. Before you can see anything cover-your-eyes worthy, you feel Jane's hands press over yours, sealing your view.
"I said no peeking, Maur. C'mon, it's a surprise." She tries to keep her voice serious, but you can hear the laughter riding out on her words.
"Okay, okay. I won't look." But inside, you're on fire. What could it be? Is it a…? You have no frame of reference. She is showing you a world you never knew you needed.
She takes her hands off yours, and you wait until you're sure she's not looking before you try to peek again. But she anticipated that already. The second you move your fingers, your eyes meet hers. She sighs, but you can see the smile threatening to overtake her serious facade.
"You're not a very good listener."
"Sorry." You're excited. You feel her hands move to your hips, and she's the only thing keeping you from jumping up and down in anticipation. She watches you as you drop your hands from your eyes, surprise forgotten. Instead, it's her hands. Strong hands never anything but gentle with you.
"You're not sorry." Teasing. She likes that– jokes and sarcasm. You like it too, but not right now. Right now the only thing you've got on your mind is how much you want to close the silly distance between you, grab a fistful of her t-shirt, and kiss her until she forgets every joke she knows.
It's difficult to concentrate on anything but her. You've known her a month, and already, you cannot imagine a life without that smile.
"Please?"
You cannot say no to those eyes.
You bring your hands up again, holding her eyes for just a moment more before blocking out the hazy August colors. She doesn't move– probably still suspicious of your peeking tendencies.
"I won't look. I promise."
"I know." She rests her forehead against the backs of your fingers and pulls you flush against her. If you believed in past lives, you would tell her that long ago you must have done something extraordinary to deserve her in this life.
You're in love with the way she leans in and brushes her lips against yours in a ghost of a kiss before settling at the corner of your mouth with her own.
"Happy birthday," she murmurs, and you're breathless.
And all at once, she's away from you. Despite the thick August heat, you feel cold where she once was.
"Jane?"
"Open your eyes."
...
"Open your eyes! Please, Maur! No, no, please, wake up!"
She sounds far away, and you want to call for her. To tell her to come find you, but your mouth doesn't work. You try to reach out, but your body feels heavy and tired.
"Wake up, please, Maur... Please."
You try again, but you can't move. You're so tired. Why won't she let you sleep?
"Maur, please! Please open your eyes."
Anything for her. Anything. It should be simple. Just open your eyes, but you can't. If your body feels heavy, then your eyelids weigh a ton. You cannot open your eyes.
"Maur." Clear. Frantic. She could be right next to you, but there's no way to know. Why can't you move?
"Don't leave me. I don't wanna be alone... Don't go."
...
"Don't go," she says, reaching up to you.
"I'm not going anywhere." And you're not. There's not a force of earth that could get you out of this bed. Not on earth. Not in existence.
"What are you doing then?"
You pull the sheet up to your chest and look over your shoulder at her, "Looking at you."
"Why?" Blood blooms in her cheeks, and she squirms a little under your gaze. All of the sudden she's nervous. Funny. She wasn't five minutes ago when she was on top of you.
Now you're the one flushing.
"Because you're beautiful." You didn't think it was possible to love her more than you did when you woke up this morning, but here you are. She's looking at you all wild hair and shy smiles. Yes, you believe it's certainly possible that she has a two-handed hold on your heart.
"Maur." As she speaks, you realize just how much of her you still haven't felt beneath your lips. Earlier, it was all about getting nearer– as close as two bodies could possibly be. Not for one moment did you stop to pay homage to the curve of her left shoulder or the space between her eyes.
You wonder for a moment if you rushed through it too quickly to fully appreciate her, but you stop yourself before you ruin your mood. There will be more chances, more opportunities for you to memorize every part of her. You didn't rush anything.
"Yes?"
"Can you come back here?" She's shown you everything in a matter of months comprised of days spent laughing and living. There's no way to properly repay her for what she's done. But you can try.
You abandon the sheet and settle back into her, sighing as she resumes tracing lazy patterns across our shoulder blades and down your spine.
"Don't go." Soft, pleading words.
You love her. You love her. You love her.
"Don't go," she repeats, quiet and vulnerable. Your heart swells in your chest. This girl... You didn't know it, but you've been waiting your whole life for this girl, and now that you've got her, you're never letting go.
"No." You turn and press your lips to her collarbone, yet another place you missed in your frenzied attempt to get as close to her as possible. You'll make up for it all. "Never."
"I... I love you."
...
"I love you, Maur. I love you so much. You're going to be okay. You're... You're going to be okay." Faintly again. You barely hear her.
But you feel it now.
There's something wrong. You're freezing.
"Maura, I'm sorry. It's all my fault." She's crying. You can hardly make out her words. "Please... Maur, please...don't..."
You lose her.
…
...
...
Your throat hurts.
You don't know why that's your first thought, but it is. You cough quietly, but it doesn't help. When's the last time you had a drink of water? You try to sit up, but the second you do, you realize what a mistake you've made.
The dull pain in your head makes itself more than known when it flares hot and angry, scolding and scalding. Like you should have known better than to move. Machines spring to live all around you, beeping and chiming like you've derailed all their tasks. You would apologize if there wasn't a fire poker shoved between your eyes.
Hands ease you gently back down, pushing through your flailing attempts.
"Maura, sweetie. Maura, calm down. You're in the hospital. You're safe." You don't recognize the voice above you, and your eyes won't open for you. "I know you're scared, baby. It's okay. It's okay. You have to stop fighting. You're going to hurt yourself."
Hospital? You don't understand. Where is Jane?
"Jane," you try, but nothing comes out.
"What, baby?"
"Jane." A little stronger, but your consonants trip over each other. She couldn't possibly understand what you're saying. Your throat is killing you. You reach for your mouth, but you feel the nurse's hands close around yours.
"No, sweetie. You've got a breathing tube. Don't pull on it. Just relax, okay?"
Relax?
"Can you open your eyes for me?"
You try, but your eyes feel glued shut. Carefully, you bring your hands to your eyes and try to open them yourself.
The first time you open your eyes, he world is a line divided by dark blond eyelashes. It takes you several seconds to get your eyelids to obey, but once they do, you blink several times taking in your room. Everything has a blue tint to it, like you fell asleep staring at the sky while the sun warmed your eyelids.
Gradually, everything returns to its normal coloration, and you look up at the nurse. She has kind eyes and a curly ponytail. She smiles at you and holds her hand out for you to take. You hesitate. She's a stranger that's smiling like she's known you forever. You look away from her, instead focusing on the patient whiteboard mounted on the wall by the door. The pressure in your head increases as you try to read your information, so you settle on the little pictures of cartoon faces in various states of pain.
"It's okay. My name is Gloria."
You take her hand.
"You've been asleep for a while, sweetie."
You don't care how long you've been asleep or why. None of that matters right now. You're scared.
"Jane," you repeat, your voice a coarse whisper.
"What is it?"
You want to cry. Jane. Jane. Jane Rizzoli. Is that so hard to hear? You know the nurse is just trying to help, but you don't want her. You want Jane.
"No, don't cry, baby. It's okay." She wipes your cheeks with a kneenex like you're a child.
"Jane." Her name comes out cracked and ugly.
"Oh, Jane?"
She knows Jane? You nod your head, whimpering a little with the motion.
"Lie back, sweetie. You shouldn't be up like this for so long. Gosh, I... I can't believe this."
Your eyes widen in fear.
"You're... you're awake!"
Why is that such a big surprise? Where's Jane?
"Jane," you croak, but she just nods like she's recollecting in her own mind. You're getting frustrated with her, and it's making everything hurt. It suddenly occurs to you that you haven't tried to move your feet.
"You had a lot of time to heal. Most of your broken bones have healed nicely. You were pretty banged up, kid. Do you remember anything?"
Do you? You think back to the last memory you have, but it's all fuzzy. You remember Paris with your mother, and an Eiffel Tower snow globe. You remember the anger in Jane's father's eyes and...
"Don't hurt yourself. You don't have to remember right now. It's okay. I'll be right back. I've got to get the doctor." And with that, she's gone.
...
The second time you open your eyes is after they have removed your breathing tube, a man– your doctor– kneels beside your bed and checks your pupils with a pen light. He checks other things too– your heart, your lungs, your throat– but none make your skin crawl like the light in your eyes.
You never realized how hard the world just is. Looking at things. Listening to words. It's very difficult.
Several times, you try to ask the doctor about Jane. But your words won't come out. By the way he talks to Gloria in the hall, you can tell they never thought you'd wake up. Or maybe they're just surprised you're so responsive.
Maybe you're just paranoid.
Gloria comes back in with a cool washcloth that does wonders to soothe the wildfire inside your head.
"Jane." You lock eyes with her, hoping she won't get distracted.
"What about Jane, sweetie?"
"Where is she!" You didn't mean to yell, but all it does is make matters worse. Your throat burns, and your head starts to pound all over again. You feel fuzzy and tired. You want Jane right now. Right now.
"I called her, but it's two in the morning, sweetie. I left a message, and we'll try again in the morning, okay?"
It's not okay! You don't want to be here. Not alone. Not without her. You press the heels of your hands over your eyes. What happened?
"I know you're confused. Tomorrow the doctor with explain everything, but right now, I know it sounds weird, but you should rest."
"N-no."
"Shh, it's okay. We'll try again in the mor–"
You hear the familiar sound of sneakers slapping the ground in fast progression. Is it? Could it be? The sound flies past your door, and your heart sinks. But then it stops altogether.
"Hey! You can't be in here!" a nurse shouts in the hall.
Sneakers squeak back in your direction, and you can vaguely make out fingers gripping the door jamb.
"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
You see her. She flings herself through the doorway, gathering her balance against the door. She pushes her hair out of her face and carefully looks over at you as if she's afraid it's a joke.
"Miss, you can't be here."
She ignores the other nurse and stumbles over to your bed. Gloria stands and offers her chair, but Jane goes straight to your bed. You see now her cheeks are wet with tears, and her eyes are red. She's a wreck, but you can't imagine you look much better.
"Miss?"
Gloria takes that as her cue to disengage the nurse. And silence befalls you. Jane reaches a shaky hand out, hesitating for a brief moment before touching your face. Your headache recedes, or maybe you've just forgotten all about it.
"I-I-I wasn't here when you woke up." She brings her other hand up and rests it on your shoulder. "I promised, and I wasn't h-here."
"It's okay." You're not sure if she can understand you.
"Were you scared?"
You cannot lie, and even though you know it will hurt her, you nod.
She sucks in a breath, "I'm sorry. I c-couldn't find my phone, and... and it stopped ringing." She fishes her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket and holds it out like proof. "I didn't even listen to the message. I just s-saw it was from the h-hospital, and I had to get here. I thought... I-I thought..."
She trails off but you know what she was thinking. I thought you were dead.
She swallows and nods, "Yeah." She gives your shoulder a slight squeeze, and you flinch. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to–"
"Okay," you manage, even though every single word is like swallowing decomposed gravel. Even the effort makes your eyes droop. You don't want to sleep. You want to stay with Jane. What if you open your eyes again, and she's not there?
She reads your mind.
"Sleep, Maur. I'll be right here, I promise."
...
The third time you open your eyes, Jane is asleep in the chair next to your bed. She's resting her head on her forearms, her hair a wild mess spilling onto your blankets. You try to sit up a little, but you can't, and your attempt jostles the bed.
"Maur?" Jane says, waking with a start, eyes worried.
"I'm okay."
You feel better. Nowhere near good, but having Jane around makes the horror of it all. Now you're confused.
"How... How long?"
She swipes the back of her hand across her eyes, "Almost five weeks."
Five? You were anticipating something like horrifically longer, but five weeks is still a long time to be detached. You try to move your feet, surprised when they obey. Maybe you are not broken. Though, they still ache like nothing you've ever felt in your life. You've never broken a bone before or really ever spent much time in the hospital. If something was terribly wrong, Jane would tell you. She would have already told you. She wouldn't lie.
"And when you get out, Ma and I are gonna take care of you. She's on her way right now. You should'da heard her on the phone... She missed you so much... I missed you, too."
"You waited...?"
She nods, "At first, I never left. I never left your side for more than five minutes. Ma stayed a lot too. But then I had to work." She drops her gaze, almost ashamed, "I was here last night. I left at nine... and you... you woke up."
"What... happened?"
She pales, "I... I got us in an accident. Do you remember?"
"No."
"I got a bump on the head and a sprained wrist and you... Your… your seat belt broke." She buries her face in her hands, "I thought I lost you, Maur."
"You didn't."
She smiles more for your benefit than her own. You can tell she's not in the smiling mood, and you wish she wouldn't try to hard to keep herself so put-together. You wish she wouldn't try to carry everything like that. "You don't remember, but I got into that accident 'cause dinner with Pop… And I know there's no excuse for how stupid I was… but he's not coming back Maur… Ever."
You don't understand exactly, but you nod as if you do. You figure you'll remember in time.
Jane looks at you again, face crumbling, "You shouldn't be here... it should be me." Her eyes flash. You've never seen her like this, "It was my fault. All of it. All you ever did was love me, and I almost killed you."
"No." You start to choke. Her eyes widen and she frantically smacks at the call button, hitting it more than just a few times.
You close your eyes.
...
The fourth time you open your eyes, Angela Rizzoli is sitting in the chair beside your bed, reading a home decor magazine. She smiles at you when she realizes you're awake.
"Hi, Maura."
"Hi...?" your eyes pass her, searching the empty chairs in the room.
Angela chuckles and points her magazine at you. It's then when you feel Jane's weight on the bed beside you. She's asleep, and you try your best not to wake her.
"How're you feeling?"
You feel half-charged. Like all your body wants to do is sleep, but that's the last thing your mind wants. You mind wants to read everything the hospital has to offer, but your eyes don't agree. Your mind wants to go on a walk through the park with Jane, but your body won't move like that. You've been asleep for weeks, and you've had quite enough of it. So how do you feel? Restricted? Off?
"Trapped." You decide.
"The doctor said you'd feel a little funky at first. You've been asleep for a while. You're not used to being alert, or something."
Jane stirs beside you, disturbing herself out of sleep.
"Moning, Janie," her mother greets almost sacrastically. So that's where she gets it.
"Hey, Ma. Maur." She leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. You can't imagine what you must look like, what you must smell like after five weeks of sponge baths, but if either of them notice, they don't say anything. You love them.
Everything almost feels normal.
Almost.
Five Weeks. You can fill so much into five weeks. All that time, lost. You must have missed Christmas... your first Christmas with Jane. What else did you miss? Birthdays, laughs, and happy moments?
Tears form at the corners of your eyes, and they both jump into action.
"What's wrong?" Angela reaches for your hand.
"What's wrong, Maur?"
"I... lost. Lost five weeks w-with you."
Angela's face falls, and you hate that you've done that to her. They don't need anymore sadness, and neither do you. But Jane. Jane looks strong. Jane is strong. She's brave and unfaltering, and you love her.
You love her so much, you think maybe that's what kept your brain active. Dreams of her. Memories of the way she loved. The way you know she still does. She'll always be there to save you, and you can only hope one day you'll return the favor. You look back at her, surprised at the look of determination in her eyes.
"Five weeks, huh. Well, then we're just gonna have to get them back."
"We'll help you," Angela adds.
More than anything, you love them both.
Jane kisses your cheeks and wraps an arm around you, taking care to be gentle.
"We'll get through this together."
…
…
A/N: Please excuse the medical inaccuracies. I did my best, I really did!