Author: eponinesghost (EppieG)
Title: I Want You To Want Me Part 7/?
Pairing: Rizzoli/Isles
Rating: Pretty mild for this chapter. Mostly language.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the creators of Rizzoli & Isles. No infringement intended.
Notes/Summary: I hear your name, in certain circles ….
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The ride back from Logan was not nearly long enough.
Angela Rizzoli needed much more time to process everything she had learned in the last several hours.
She was haunted by the depth of feeling and anguish she'd seen in her daughter's dark eyes. Her own heart ached because she couldn't just kiss it and make it all better like when Jane had been a small child. She hated seeing any of her children struggle or suffer, but since it was Jane … who so rarely let anyone witness her pain or helplessness, it affected her profoundly.
And then when her thoughts strayed to Maura … her obvious misery and confusion … Angela could scarcely bear it. Both of her girls were grieving, each of them in their own way. What was even more upsetting to her was that they were doing so separately.
For the past several years they'd weathered every storm together and were stronger as a pair than they were apart.
But this …
Angela should have been completely floored to hear that Jane was in love with - romantically interested in - her best friend. Instead, shortly after Jane professed her feelings, Angela couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner.
Sighing, she tried to replay all of the times she had subconsciously noticed the signs and indications. Jane's fierce devotion and Maura's constant presence … the subtle intimate touching … the way they spoke to each other with their eyes …
Her acceptance of the situation came easily. Once Jane had nervously admitted the kissing … she shocked herself by not being shocked. In many ways, she, and practically everyone else around them, with the exception of Tommy, had already been considering the two of them a couple. The fact that they were both women seemed irrelevant … was irrelevant.
Angela had been the most disturbed that Jane somehow believed that she was not worthy of Maura. The very idea that her gorgeous, bright, amazingly accomplished, generous, funny, warm-hearted daughter would in some way not "measure up" … wouldn't be considered a complete catch … got right to her last nerve. She refused to even entertain the thought.
Jane had to be mistaken. Maura was in just as deep. She might not recognize it or be able to fully acknowledge it, but it wasn't because she didn't love or want Jane. And all of this business about needing to stay friends and not move forward … Angela knew that there was no putting that genie back in the bottle.
Her "adopted" daughter was frightened. Skittish beyond belief. She wasn't wired together for leaps of faith or emotional risks. If she'd never truly been head over heels in love with someone, the idea that she would utterly lose control … be overwhelmed with illogical impulses … probably scared the shit out of her. She needed to face it head on, but more than likely, she was going to puzzle over it and try to make sense of it. Come up with a solution or an exit strategy.
Angela almost chuckled at the futility of that course of action. She didn't want to sell Maura's genius short, but even her brilliance didn't stand a chance against the age-old force of nature she would be confronting.
Love made no sense. But it made perfect sense.
That was the problem.
Jane had filled in a few more blanks in the car on the way to catch her flight. With each distressing detail, Angela had yearned to clasp her hand, reassure her that this was all temporary, that it would all be okay in the end. But once she had gotten past her elation that Jane was actually confiding in her, openly sharing and showing all of her vulnerabilities, she realized that the most loving and supportive thing she could do was just listen.
Listen and let Jane work out her own issues in her own time. It was all she could stand not to offer suggestions, volunteer to be involved … well, further involved … but she held firm. She'd do anything Janie asked of her, but she wasn't going to push. For once in her life, Jane seemed delicate, and Angela, while protective and concerned, knew that it was a necessary state, part of a step she needed to take.
Her resolve nearly disappeared when Jane hugged her so tightly that she couldn't breathe. Clung to her like a lifeline. Murmured over and over how much she appreciated and loved her.
As Angela rocked her trembling oldest child, she almost insisted that Jane get back in the car and forget the notion of going anywhere. She wanted to drive her straight to Maura's house and sit them both down on the sofa and lecture them until they got married.
She felt exactly like she had the first day Janie had gone off to school, had waved sweetly and made her way down the sidewalk. She wasn't prepared at all to let her out of her sight. To let go of her hand. To let her go, period.
But she knew she had to. For her daughter to grow and learn and be the person she'd raised, she had to.
They'd both wiped their eyes and laughed about how silly it was to be so weepy about such an awesome vacation opportunity. Then Angela had insisted that Jane leave her cell phone behind.
She reiterated that Jane needed space. Real distance. To be able to think or to not think at all. There was no need to be tempted to check on things or stay involved in anything in Boston while she was away. If something came up that she absolutely needed to know, Vince Korsak knew how to get in touch with her.
Jane had balked at first. Had actually slightly panicked. But Angela gently reminded her about how she had drunkenly phoned the weekend before and Jane simply handed it over.
With one last hug and a promise to supervise how Frankie was taking care of Jo, they finally separated.
Angela had watched her until she disappeared inside the sliding doors. Saying a prayer for a safe flight and throwing in a request for a little bit of extra special guidance and protection for her baby, she had headed home.
Now that she was almost there, she had just about convinced herself that what she was about to do was the right thing. The only thing she could do.
As much as she might want to sit down with Maura and let her in on everything she now knew, she would resist the impulse to initiate that conversation. It would take everything she had not to gather her in like a wounded animal and try to tend to her, coax her into trusting Angela with her fears and secrets, but she would do it.
Besides, just like Jane needed time away from Maura to pull herself back together and make hard decisions, Maura needed to know what it was like to not have Jane around. Having Jane's mother living a few feet away was not going to be a ready substitute.
She wanted them both to be happy. So much. And more than anything in the world she didn't want to have to choose between them. But if it came to it … Jane was her first priority.
The relationship they ultimately worked out or settled for or fought for would need to be something they had decided for themselves. Not something she had a hand in manipulating. It might kill her to stay on the sidelines, but it would be for the best.
She hoped.
Psyching herself up for some tough love, she parked the car and quietly entered the main house. As expected, it was still and empty. After what happened at breakfast, she was sure that Maura had come up with plenty of reasons to be gone for the day.
Not wasting any time, she found what she needed and left a note in plain view on the counter.
"Maura,
I'm sorry about this morning, Sweetheart. It was not my intention to interfere. If and when you should want to talk about it – about anything – I'm just next door. Day or night.
I love you,
Angela"
She wouldn't instigate another discussion, but she wouldn't shy away from one either. The poor child was almost all alone.
If she chose to keep to herself until Monday, she'd find out from someone else that Jane was gone.
And Angela would prepare to deal with the aftermath.
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Maura had been having nightmares.
The kind that wrapped cold fingers around her heart and woke her up in a fog of dread.
She had gone years without having one of this magnitude and now she was having them regularly. At least four times in the last week. Even if she hadn't gone through so much medical training, she'd have known they were tied to her emotional turmoil regarding Jane.
Some of them had included her specifically. They were the most obvious.
One that she could barely recall that played in her memory like a quick-cut eerie filmstrip, involved a small kitten that she was trying to keep from running away. She supposed that in the dream she was very, very young, but that barely seemed significant. All she knew that she was desperate to hold onto the small fuzzy animal and was in a state of heightened apprehension about it escaping.
Evidently she had gathered it to her and held on tighter and tighter, no matter how much it squirmed and fought. The whole horror of the situation came when she realized that she had literally squeezed the life out of it. The last thing she remembered was her own screaming.
As faint and hazy as the details were, the shock of the outcome sat in the pit of her stomach like a stone. She couldn't shake the thread of unease it had woven through her mind even though it was just a dream.
In a subsequent version, she had walked up on a scene that projected complete serenity and beauty. Jane was sitting in the sunshine, casual and cool despite the brightness of the day. As Maura drew closer she could make out the kitten in her lap. This time, instead of sparking anxiety, the sight of it safe and sleepy in Jane's cupped hands enveloped her with a sense of peace.
She could see the light breeze as it danced in the grass and rearranged Jane's hair, but strangely she couldn't feel it. As she continued to move toward the pair, she watched Jane smile and nuzzle the kitten's tiny face. The vision before her suffused her with warmth, but she noted that she didn't feel the sun on her skin.
Jane was clearly speaking softly to the little ball of fur, and despite her proximity, Maura was aware that she only heard silence. Disturbed, she hurried her steps trying to reach them … but was brought up short by an invisible, impenetrable barrier. It was flawless … and endless. Separating her from everything on the other side.
Disappointment and melancholy quickly turned to terror as she picked up an ominous darkness moving toward Jane. No matter how loudly she shouted or how hard she pounded on the window-like wall in front of her, she could not get her attention.
She searched in vain for something she could use to shatter the shield, to get to Jane or at least alert her of the danger … as the shapeless evil advanced. Her hands were battered and bruised, but she scarcely felt anything other than the extreme, overwhelming hysteria and helplessness that stole her breath.
She had woken up gasping and crying. Shaking so hard that she could feel her teeth chatter.
Plainly, her subconscious was flailing away at the strict compartmentalization she employed in her waking life. And her sleep was suffering for it.
Perhaps the worst one of all was also the most recent. The one that had overtaken her the night after Jane had confronted her in the elevator.
They had been standing facing each other, talking about something she could not recall, although she had a vague sense that it had been work related. Suddenly, without warning, the ground had opened up … like something out of a comic book … a gaping, bottomless gash in the earth. As the pavement beneath her disappeared, Jane had dropped along with it … frantically scrambling to grab onto anything solid as the edges continued to crumble.
Maura had been knocked off balance by the violent rending, had fallen flat on her face, but not before she had seen Jane vanish in front of her. She was on her knees and crawling forward before she could think, her sole purpose to try to help, to reach Jane.
With a quickness and co-ordination she didn't know she possessed, she managed to grab Jane's wrist just as the detective lost her grip. Swinging her other arm down to reinforce her grasp, she held on for dear life, the effort and strain making her muscles shriek.
"I've got you."
The wild look of fear had left Jane's face. Her eyes were shining with pure affection … and deep compassion.
"No, honey … you don't. You just think you do."
Determined to argue, to prove otherwise, Maura shook her head and adjusted her fingers.
"I can do this …"
Jane tried again to be gentle, even as her words drove a stake into Maura's heart.
"You're not strong enough. It's too much for you … and that's okay. It will be okay. In the long run you'll accept it. And it won't matter as much …"
Maura's arms were vibrating with fatigue and she could feel them going numb. She could feel Jane's hand beginning to slip even as she was determined to hang onto it. Tears were streaming down her face.
"Don't say that … don't … I need you …"
Jane looked down, breaking eye contact for only a moment as she contemplated the abyss below. When she looked back up, she seemed tranquil and composed.
"I'll always love you, Maura …"
She'd scarcely uttered the last syllable when her hand slipped free.
The pain that ripped through Maura's body as gravity ripped Jane away from her was still there when she jerked awake.
She was wracked with loneliness and loss.
As she stared at her ceiling, her face still streaked and wet, she marveled at the contrast to waking up with Jane.
The mild confusion that night at finding those striking features so close to her own, the glittering black eyes so full and open, stripped of any filter. Clearly showing every thought and emotion. Including the distress of being caught so blatantly exposed.
It had been so natural to kiss her then. To reassure her, keep her from bolting and blaming herself.
And then … and then …
The total transformation that occurred when Jane kissed her back … really kissed her. It was as if she had been entirely dissolved and reformed in that instant. The infiltration of emotion, the wave of completeness she felt …
It had been incredible. Unlike anything she'd ever known. Her body responding immediately, craving exponentially more and more of this new discovery. Being held by Jane in such a way that was all-encompassing. She felt claimed and anchored and yet so free, so open. It had penetrated her soul … or what others commonly referred to as a soul … so deeply that she was willing in that moment to concede its existence.
It was beyond beautiful. It felt like forever.
That single thought had sounded the alarm.
Forever. Nothing about romantic love was forever.
She wanted Jane so badly … she was literally throbbing, burning for her … but she wanted Jane to always be in her life.
That striking contradiction set off her paranoia and everything that had followed. Now her abject fear of losing Jane was tearing them both apart.
In her experience, in her world … once the concept of love on that level was introduced into a relationship, it was the beginning of the end.
Social pairings and sexual partnerships were different, defined by different conditions. As long as each individual was in agreement to the terms, there would be no issue. It was when these arrangements fell out of balance that all of the stress and conflict began.
With Ian, things had been magical at first. They seemed to have every aspect of a successful relationship covered. They could talk about anything, they worked well together … they dreamed of changing the world. And the sex was great. She had fallen under his spell.
However, once she confessed her feelings, stated them aloud, things had started to change. He spoke more and more of directions he might take that would mean long absences and impractical circumstances. He eventually chose a path that took him away from her all together. And because she loved him so much, she had agreed with his decision.
She knew now that it had been the right thing to do. That it wouldn't have lasted if they had tried to change for each other.
A little voice taunted her. Isn't that the opposite of what Jane is doing - even though she loves you enough to let you have your way? She's not asking you to change and you're not trying to get away. It's not the same at all.
The whole thing made her question her sanity. The one person she had been able to go to for help with these kinds of things was the one person she couldn't talk about this with. There was no one she could talk about this with.
She was on her own. And miserable.
A condition that was underscored when she'd tried to mind-over-matter her way through Angela's special, cheer-up breakfast.
Her argument with Jane and the stark picture it had drawn, her insufferable night at the banquet trying not to cry, the heart-wrenching nightmare, and then Angela's worried, loving eyes had all added up to critical mass.
It became startlingly clear to her that if she lost Jane she also lost her family. And probably her friends at the precinct. Her extended family.
Maura hadn't felt so bereft since her first week of boarding school. She had been so very young then. Now that she was an adult she needed to find a way to overcome it.
She needed to focus. She needed to soldier on. She needed to get her best friend back.
She showered and changed and, after making sure Angela was nowhere in sight, she went out to spend the day visiting art galleries.
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It didn't help at all.
Far from the comfort and distraction she sought, everything was a reminder.
Staring at one bright and vibrant work, she could hear Jane going on and on about her mother painting swatches of color in her apartment after her split from Jane's father.
That humorous train of thought segued into wondering how in the world the Rizzoli's didn't make it after so many years and so much history.
As she passed by a darker, textured canvas, she could imagine Jane's loud disgust that it would be considered high art and that it was priced above the market value for some of the smaller houses in the vicinity.
She suppressed a giggle as she conjured up Jane's usual dramatic eye roll. In fact, she could practically hear Jane's description of the piece – "It looks like a monkey finger painted with its poo." Although it was unlikely she'd have used the word "poo" rather than the more common expletive.
Mid-smile she slumped against a marble column and blinked back tears. Jane had placated her occasionally by tagging along when Maura was excited about a particular unveiling or show, but it wasn't like she had always frequented galleries with the brunette. The experience shouldn't be so evocative and intertwined with her presence.
It was more that it made Maura aware that she might not have the experience again. That she couldn't just call Jane up this afternoon and plead with her to meet at the post-modernist exhibit. That she wasn't sure if Jane would even take her calls anymore.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to try a new restaurant on the outskirts of the city. One that should have no connection at all to the brash detective that seemed to have taken up residence in her thoughts and dreams.
By the time she got back home it should be past acceptable "visiting hours" even for Angela, and it would be safe to turn in.
If only she could be sure she would remain safe in her sleep.
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She didn't find Angela's note until she was on her way out for a run Sunday morning.
Immediately after she read it, she was struck with a sharp pang of guilt for avoiding the woman. She clearly cared about Maura and was concerned by her erratic behavior. It was hard for Maura to continue to shut her out.
Part of her just wasn't up to the psychic drain it would be to actually discuss any of this with Angela. She wasn't sure how she could do so without breaking down and she was wary of what that might lead to.
The other part of her was scared to let Angela know just how much she had hurt Jane. And why.
In addition, by telling the whole truth, which is the only way Maura could operate … she would basically be outing Jane to her mother. While she was absolutely certain that there was nothing that could possibly change how much Mrs. Rizzoli loved her children and that she would support them no matter what, it didn't seem like something she should hear from someone other than Jane.
As things stood now, there was really no reason for Jane to say anything at all. As private as she was, Maura couldn't imagine that she would feel the need to clarify something that was no longer going to be relevant. If they weren't going to ever be together in that way, there was no possible gain in publicizing that they had even considered it.
Depressed, she slid the note into a drawer and continued to reassure herself that staying out of Angela's reach for another day was best for everyone involved.
She'd spend most of the day researching a paper she'd been writing on and off, and generally occupying herself with scientific data. Science was stable and unchanging. The aspects of it that were thrilling to her still posed no threat and there was always a solution, even if it remained elusive for a long time. It was her oasis and she'd never needed it more.
Besides, she'd have to see both Jane and Angela tomorrow.
She could use one more day of pondering and preparation.
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Thankfully her cumulative exhaustion and mental lassitude had helped to ward off another bout of night terrors.
As she showered Monday morning, she vowed to take Jane's advice … no matter how antagonistically it had been delivered. She would stop being timid. She would do or say whatever she needed to, unhindered by her feelings of responsibility and remorse.
Or at least she'd go through the motions of doing so until she could do so authentically.
As a peace offering, she stopped by Jane's favorite bakery and picked up three of her regular pastries. It would be rude to leave out Korsak and Frost.
She also stopped for an expensive cup of coffee that would make an extra good impression and give her a reason to bypass Angela for a little while longer.
All the way up in the elevator she concentrated on a ritual Hindu chant that was supposed to counteract nervousness. When that didn't seem to do the trick, she repeated over and over to herself, "It's just another day."
She entered the bullpen full of fake confidence.
Her smile faltered when she noticed that Jane's desk was empty.
She was sure that with her extra stops this morning that she would have arrived after Jane's normal start time. Disappointed, she turned toward Korsak – the only one in the room at the moment.
"Hey Doc!" His eyes went immediately to the bakery bag. "Did you do a breakfast run?"
Without answering him, she tilted her head toward the desk closest to her.
"Did I already miss Jane?"
Now it was Korsak's smile that wavered.
"Um … uh … Ang … Mrs. Rizzoli didn't tell you?"
He seemed inordinately uncomfortable.
Immediately dropping the bag onto Jane's desk and setting down the hot coffee, Maura moved forward.
"Tell me what, Vince?"
Her tone left no room for hesitation.
"She left. She's gone."
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end part seven
thanks for reading!