A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews and hits and encouragement! Writing in this fandom has really been a joy. Concrit is always welcome, as well as just a simple hello! To the anons, guests, and accountless reviewers: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I wish I could respond personally.
On with the show.
It's been eight hours since Jane first took Maura's ice cold hand in her own, seven hours since she walked alongside the bed as they wheeled Maura from recovery to her private room, and six hours and forty-seven minutes since she's moved from her post in a chair that rivaled Maura's beloved Karim Rashid for discomfort. She has not yet let go of the hand.
"You can go home now." Maura's words trip over themselves as they struggle to emerge from drugged lips. She might be saying one thing, but her tone is saying quite another. Jane fights a smile as the doctor continues her fight with language. "I'm fine now...you are no longer obli – ."
Jane shakes her head, fingers tightening slightly to let Maura know that, come hell or high water, she will remain here by her side until forcibly removed. It's both terrifying and liberating; Jane knows she always indulges Maura, but she never really thought as to why. But for hours now, she has done little but think as she traces all of the tiny cross hatching lines with the tip of a nail, following the little grooves across knuckles and up fingers, along nail beds and over fingertips. She files the whorls, loops, and arches away in her mind, certain that should she need to identify a print she could do so without AFIS.
"Really," Maura gasps a little as she tries to lean towards the detective, "Go home, Jane. Take care of Jo and feed Bass for me."
"Shut up and lay down." Jane is on her feet at Maura's gasp and is now gently pushing her back into the pillows with her free hand. "Ma has Jo and I know she'll feed that walking boulder you call a companion."
Maura acquiesces, the scratchy cotton pillowcases grating against the plastic protective covers, but she doesn't close her eyes. Jane follows her gaze to their joined hands and fights the compulsion to let go and scoot back.
"I only suggested it because I know you don't want to be here. You hate hospitals." Maura's eyes flick up to Jane's face. The heavy meds must be wearing off because she is much more lucid than she was in the recovery room. Jane feels the first wave of uneasiness clench in her stomach. She is treading in unfamiliar territory, at least in her heart. Casual physical contact with Maura is norm, but not in combination with her new internal acknowledgement that she might, perhaps, feel something a bit stronger than friendship for Maura. Eight hours of introspection can put just about anything in perspective.
"No, I hate being in the hospital."
"Which you currently are…"
"No, Maura, you're in the hospital." Jane rolls her eyes and shoves her right hand into her hair, dragging it through tangled curls in frustration. "I'm just visiting you."
"Still…" Maura's eyes drop to their clasped hands again, then back up to stare in confusion at Jane's apparent discomfiture. "This building is a hospital and you are currently being in it–"
"Noooo, I mean – you know what?" Jane reaches over Maura's prone body and makes like she's going to snatch the controller for the morphine pump. "Go back to sleep."
"Don't you dare. I don't want anym–" Maura jerks reflexively and immediately cries out. "OUCH, ow oow."
"Oh no, Maur, I'm sorry. Lemme see." Jane frowns and her eyes, pools of frustration a second ago, are now frightened and contrite.
"Nooo." Maura groans and tightens her grip on Jane's hand as the detective, this time, moves to push the call button. When the nurse arrives, Maura is trying to breathe through the pain as Jane sits on the edge of the bed, white-faced and murmuring apologies, free hand rubbing her friend's leg.
"Doc, I believe I told your friend here that you were to use that pump to keep the pain from getting out of control. You don't want the breakout med." The young woman moves to the monitor next to the bed and pushes a few buttons. "What number is your pain?"
Maura shakes her head, the panting getting more under her control. "E – eight, nnnine maybe, but I dun wanany more morphine."
"Take the medicine, ok?" Jane would take the pain on herself if she could. Maura is still shaking her head and Jane looks helplessly at the nurse.
"Dr. Isles, you know that suffering through pain only slows healing and recuperation." The nurse moves to straighten the tubes and wires trailing from Maura's arm. "You want to leave within the next couple of days right?"
Maura nods, still cringing, her breathing still a bit ragged. "Half dose."
The nurse moves to the pump and after a few beeps she motions for Maura to push the pump. Again, the relief is almost instantaneous. Her breathing eases and Jane feels her own racing heart slow.
"Stay?" The request is mumbled, but just the drooping eyelids and slow breathing are enough to make Jane smile.
"Of course. Where else would I go?"
The knock on the door is soft enough that Jane sleeps through it, her body bent at the waist and her cheek resting against their clasped hands.
"Detective Rizzoli?" The hesitant whisper is accompanied by a hand on a bony shoulder.
Jane practically jumps out of her skin, and it is only because her subconscious knows that Maura's in the bed that she doesn't cry out. She whirls in the chair, letting go of Maura's hand for the first time in hours, to come up close and personal with Hope.
"What do you want?" Jane watches with satisfaction as the weak smile plastered on the other woman's face falls. "If it's Maura you want to talk to, you're out of luck right now. I'm not waking her up."
"How is she?" Hope's lips quirk into a small, tentative smile at Jane's protective tone.
"She's in a wicked amount of pain." Jane isn't going to sugarcoat anything for this woman who treats Maura as nothing more than an organ-storage unit. "And she's not really keen on taking the medicine to keep control of it."
Hope's smile disappears and her brows furrow as she subconsciously reaches for Maura's chart.
"You have no right to look at that." Jane's voice is so low that Maura doesn't even twitch, but Hope jumps as if the detective shouted. "Come back when she's awake and can tell you to mind your own business herself."
"I just wanted to check and make sure she's alright." Taken aback, the older woman nervously twists and turns the rings on her left hand. Jane is struck by how much the motion reminds her of Maura. "Cailin is doing wonderfully. She's also hooked to a pump for pain management, but she doesn't seem as resistant to using it…" Jane sighs in resignation and cuts across Hope's comment.
"Maura wants to see you and Cailin." Jane shifts her weight from foot to foot, concern now that her dislike for this woman is shining through and will ruin chances that Maura should have to connect with her biological mother. "So please, come back later when she's awake."
Hope nods and puts her hand on Maura's blanket-covered foot. "She's very lucky to have you, Jane."
Jane watches as she gives Maura's toes a little squeeze, then another small smile graces the older woman's lips. Regret and acceptance twist and blend across Hope's face, but their journey ends with what Jane thinks might be guilt.
"I won't be here then, if Maura doesn't want me to be." Jane isn't able to eliminate all traces of animosity from her voice, but she is hoping her honesty is, at the very least, appreciated. "I'm sure you would like some time alone with your daughter." She is sure to emphasize the end of her statement, Maura's sobbing confessional of Hope's denial still in her mind.
"Yes, of course." Hope evades her eyes, turning for the door before Jane realizes the other woman intends on leaving. "Please tell Maura I stopped by. Goodbye, Detective."
Jane says nothing, surprised by the abrupt departure. Stealing a look at Maura, she finds her breathing slow and rhythmic, the only sign of discomfort is the slight crease between her closed eyes. Her hand moves of its own accord, her thumb gently smoothing over the spot until Maura's brow relaxes. Jane lifts both hands high over her head, stretching out the stiff muscles in her back, as she walks over to the window and looks out on the grey spring sky.
"She better come back." Jane mutters to herself, one palm pressing against her forehead the other tucked into the pocket of her jeans. She turns back to the bed, her back already protesting the miserable chair, and does her best to keep her irritation in check. Everything rankles her lately; everything sets her off, and it's fatiguing. As she sits, she takes Maura's hand again, and makes note of the sense of peace that comes from the simple gesture.