Maura leaned over and grabbed a disconcerting brown bottle on the tray near her.
"I'm going to clean the wound... it's going to hurt."
Jane nodded and bit her lip, preparing herself. Tolerance for pain came with the job title. She had survived her fair share of scrapes and bruises before this point, and she knew nothing could compare to the first few days after the attack.
Maura pressed a cotton swab to the bottle and brought it to Jane's hands. The sharp burn caused Jane to lurch forward, her eyes watering on reflex. Her breathing became labored as she attempted to work through the pain.
"I'm so sorry," Maura said nervously, retracting her hand, "but it has to be cleaned. The risk for infection-"
"I know," Jane said, through gritted teeth. "Just do the other one before I change my mind."
Maura quickly moved to Jane's other hand, biting her lip as she heard Jane let out a small whimper. She dabbed and then pulled back, murmuring, "It's over, It's over."
Jane felt almost delirious from the burn. Her whole body had broken out into a cold sweat as she attempted to hold the pain in as best she could. They fell into silence as Jane watched Maura delicately re-wrap her hand; the only sound was Jane's breathing as she attempted to recover.
Still staring at her work, Maura asked, "Have you been sleeping alright?"
Jane jerked her head up at the question. How did she know?
"Traumatic events can often cause unsettling dreams. It's the brain's way of subconsciously manifesting what the victim has actively been attempting to avoid."
Shrugging, Jane avoided Maura's eye contact. "Yeah, haven't really been sleeping well." For a second Jane nearly considered telling Maura everything. How she purposefully kept herself up with caffeine pills and coffee in order to avoid her vivid dreams. How she would wake up in the middle of the night in a feverish sweat. Instead, Jane finished lamely with "Thanks" as she lifted up her hands in appreciation.
Jane rolled over to look at the time. 3:57 AM. She dropped back onto the pillow with a resolute sigh. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't get her mind to stop running. It kept going back to earlier that night. The doctor intrigued her; she was such a contradiction. Here was this beautiful, immaculately dressed woman who loved surrounding herself with death. Jane had made many snap judgments in an attempt to understand her, but each time she spoke, Jane realized just how complex the doctor was.
Jane eventually drifted off. She found herself down in the morgue, dressed for work. She was alone, waiting for the medical examiner to walk her through the autopsy. Where is she? Jane walked over to the body laying on the table. It was a GSW, run of the mill case. Jane knew it would most likely be chalked up to street violence. After another five minutes, Jane decided she was through waiting, and pulled off the white sheet covering the body.
She watched the sheet puddle to the floor, the harsh fluorescent lights making it difficult to determine the features. She moved closer, attempting to study the face. Jane felt her stomach leap to her throat as the face finally came into focus: Hoyt.
Jane stumbled backwards, clanging into the medical supplies, falling over as she attempted to pull open the door. She grabbed the door, wincing at the pain, and with an almighty wrench-
Jane sat up in bed, trying to catch her breath. She put her hand to her chest, her heart racing a mile a minute. The dream had felt so real. What surprised her most was how different it was from the others. Every other night she would wake up from the same dream: She was down in the basement as Hoyt loomed over her, rotating the scalpel between his fingers as he whispered into Jane's ear.
Jane propped herself up, running through the dream again in her head. How many more nights could she take of this? She walked over to the bathroom sink and splashed water on her face. She placed her hands along the counter and stared at herself in the mirror.
Jane hung her head. Damn it! She had gotten so caught up with Dr. Isles, she had completely forgotten to pick up the paperwork she had originally gone in for. She looked back into the mirror. She would arrive to work early, before anyone would get there, so she could sneak in unnoticed. She wasn't ready to face them all yet. She couldn't handle their pitying looks as they attempted to avoid looking at her damaged hands.
All the same, she would hate to run into the medical examiner in her current state. So she leaned in and started the shower, just to be safe.
Maura silenced her 6:00 AM alarm. She stretched and then smiled, as last night replayed through her head.
She slid out of bed and padded over to the shower. It was strange. She had gone through such a gamut of emotions last night. From being startled, to indignant, to empathetic. Maura hadn't felt any of those emotions in years.
She had spent so long shutting herself off from most of the world. She had learned long ago that opening yourself up only allowed for disappointment. Instead she buried herself in her work. She found her happiness through art and fashion. She found people too unpredictable. The systematic process of an autopsy made her at ease. There were rules and expected outcomes. And she could help. She could find ways to bring justice.
And yet that night she had found herself in an entirely unexpected situation. She enjoyed it. Maura wondered when she would see the detective next. Given her injuries, Jane probably wouldn't be back to work for a few weeks.
Maura forced herself to push Jane from her mind as she stepped out of the shower. She had fallen behind on her work (well, behind by her standards) since she had decided to walk out with Jane rather than finishing up with her report. She quickly completed her morning routine in hopes to get to the office early and finish up.
She arrived at the precinct an hour later. She enjoyed the early mornings. Little distraction. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she sat down to work. She had been helping Detective Crowe and Detective Korsak in their latest case. She confirmed that the victim had died of strangulation. She hoped the small particulates under the victim's fingernails would reveal something about the victim's killer.
At about 8:00, Maura made her way up to the café for an extra pick me up. As she turned to pour cream into her coffee, she heard a voice call out to her.
"Hey, Doc!"
"Detect- Sorry, Jane." Maura beamed. "What are you doing here?"
Maura found the detective looking refreshed compared to last night. True, she was still in sweatpants, t-shirt, and an open zip up hoodie (Maura noted that her damaged fine motor skills probably prevented her from wearing much else), but she appeared freshly scrubbed. Her curly hair was unruly, but no longer matted, and her face held an energy that she hadn't seen last night. Still, the dark circles under her eyes were noticeable.
"Completely forgot to pick up the paperwork I was here for last night," Jane said with a laugh, holding up a file in the crook of her arm. "It was the whole reason I was here."
Maura smiled. "A common occurrence. Going to the grocery store for peanut butter, and returning with everything but."
Jane scratched at the back of her head, ruffling her hair absentmindedly.
"I figured I would have gotten here before anyone arrived. Do you work all hours of the day?"
"Oh no, that would be impossible. Sheer exhaustion would kick in around day three or four without sleep. In fact, the..."
Jane smiled as the doctor continued to cite the ailments the body would face from lack of sleep. Jane knew she really should pay attention, considering how few hours a night she was receiving. Jane couldn't believe the doctor looked just as glamorous as last night.
"What?" Maura said, noticing Jane's eyes were on her black dress. She looked down at her dress. "Did I spill something?"
"Oh, uh, no. I was just wondering if you always looked like that."
"Like what?"
"Well, it's just that I never saw Dr. Anderson in anything but scrubs the whole time he was here."
"Oh, yes. I really enjoy fashion. It's amazing what people can envision, isn't it?" Maura said, smoothing out her dress.
Jane nodded dumbly. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been to the mall.
"Fashion allows me to express myself." In ways I can't do myself. Maura racked her brain for something to say to keep the conversation going, "How are the bandages holding up?"
"Pretty good! They got a little wet this morning in the shower," Jane held them out, allowing Maura to inspect the damage. "But I think it's still better than when the doctor did them in the hospital."
"Oh," Maura said with a blush, "I don't know about that. But thank you."
Maura brought her hands up to Jane's, lightly running her fingers over the bandages.
"You should come back tomorrow, if you'd like."
Jane lifted her head at the comment, waiting for Maura to continue.
"I could keep wrapping them for you. That is, if you don't prefer someone else."
"No, no. That would be great... it's just that -" Jane sighed, trying to decide how much she wanted to admit. Fuck it. "I'm sort of... not ready to be here when everyone else is. I don't want them to see me like this."
Maura nodded quickly. "Of course, I know image and perception are very important. Especially in such a male dominated field." She pulled her hands away from Jane, realizing she had still been holding them. "6:30 in the lab tomorrow? No one's ever there past four."
Jane smiled. "Yeah, I'll be there. Thanks, Doc."
"And Jane?" Maura called out as Jane turned to go.
"Yeah?"
"Call me Maura."
A/N: Thank you so much for the support! I've gotten many requests for this to continue, so I'm going to give it a shot. I've basically promised myself to only write when I still think there's a story to tell, so I won't commit to a length yet.
Thanks again!
