At the time, Jane had assumed the first week would be the worst. The raw, unnerving feeling of loss. She was ready for the sleepless nights, the loss of appetite. She was wrong.
It was the following month when the shock wore off and the reality set in - she was never seeing Maura again. Their goodbye felt halted. She bemoaned the fact that it was in an alley way, surrounded by agents. She could still feel her arms around Maura's shoulders, wanting to tell Maura how she felt. Jane spent nearly every morning in the car to and from work shaking her head as she remembered that she needed to be strong, she needed to push Maura away. She would have been too scared otherwise.
The weeks turned into months. Her performance at work started to slide. She found it harder to get out of bed, harder to stay motivated. Un-whole. Empty.
If Jane wasn't actively engaged in something, she would find her mind drifting back to Maura. Where was she? Jane's mind would flash from worrying about her safety to jealously picturing Maura's new life.
Maura laughing, sun kissed at the beach. Surrounded by friends drinking wine. Was she even called Maura anymore?
There were moments of desperation when she would try to search for her. No inkling, nothing to go on, but clawing to find something to hold onto. She knew there was no point in searching, but the feeling deep in her chest wouldn't let go.
About six months in, Jane's mother stopped by after hearing from Frankie that she seemed different at work. Unsure of what do with herself, Jane pushed her away.
"Jane, sweetie, what's wrong with you?" Angela cried out, arms flailing as she looked around her apartment. "This place is a mess! You didn't grow up with a maid, so I don't know why you think..."
Angela trailed off as she stared Jane down. She could tell from the hollow look in her eyes that something was wrong.
"Jane," she said again, softer this time. "What's wrong, honey?"
Jane shook her head, folding her her knee up as she sat on the couch and mindlessly stared at the TV. "Nothing."
Making her way to the kitchen, Angela called out "When's the last time you went to the grocery store?"
"Ma, if you're just going to come over and -"
"And what? Care for you?"
Jane could the anger starting to boil up. She opened her mouth to argue back but Angela beat her to it.
"Whatever it is, sweetie, don't let it win. Take the hurt and frustration and pour it into something good. Don't let it keep you down." Angela grabbed Jane's hands as she saw her daughter finally nod. "You are a fighter. You get back out there - throw yourself into work. It'll be hard, but it'll help. I promise."
Jane took a deep breath as her mothers words swam over her. She was right. Living this way was terrible. She needed to find some way to move on. If nothing else, it would serve as a distraction from her own thoughts.
"You know I'm so proud of you, honey."
Jane offered a half smile and leaned into her mother, allowing herself one last moment to wallow in the emptiness.
Jane's head hit the pillow with a groan. She realized she had forgotten to charge her phone overnight, and slept through with no alarm. Her old digital clock read 9:02 AM. She was already late. Fumbling with the charger, she plugged in her phone and made her way to the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the newspaper slid halfway through her apartments's front door. She moved to toss it to the pile of unread newspapers, reminding herself that she really should cancel her subscription, but decided instead to pull it over to the counter to read with breakfast. Already late, might as well enjoy it.
She sighed and resolved to pouring herself some cereal. Work had been brutal this week. It was her third night in a row working undercover and it was starting to take its toll. But it was worth it. In the past four years she had risen through the ranks in Narcotics to finally become a team lead. No longer was she stuck doing stake outs for drug busts. She was becoming known for her talent in the interrogation room, finding ways to get even the sneakiest gang member caught in their own lie. It had been a tough few years, and a lonely one, but she had thrown herself back into work and never looked back. Despite never quite getting enough sleep and having a terrible caffeine addition, she was happy where she was. A few more months and she was ready to try to make her case for Homicide.
She yawned and pulled the newspaper towards her, unfolding the front page. She took a bite of cereal and blinked and she read the headline.
The spoon clamored to the ground as her eyes scanned the page.
PADDY DOYLE BEHIND BARS
Jane frantically pushed the bowl of uneaten cereal aside as she scanned the story. Doyle was in custody... He had turned himself in? Jane shook her head incredulously at the thought. After years of staying completely off the grid (Which Jane knew from personal searching during that first year), why would he turn himself in? Why now?
Running to the bedroom, she dove for her phone which had fallen from the nightstand after the barrage of messages and calls came in. She could see two missed calls from Cavanaugh followed by a text that just said COME FIND ME ASAP.
Jane yanked the phone and charger from the wall and got dressed in 30 seconds, her head a mess. What does this mean? Would they bring Maura in to testify? Would she be pronounced safe with him behind bars?
Jane barely remembered the drive to work. She barged into Cavanaugh's office breathlessly, attempting to apologize.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"I'm sorry - my phone died so I missed my alarm."
"Hell of a day to oversleep," he said, his voice flat.
"I know, sir. The moment I saw-" Jane's impatience was getting to best of her. "What happened? He turned himself in? Why?"
Jane searched his face, trying to understand his expression. He seemed - frustrated? She had assumed the precinct would be filled with high fives and excitement. But as she turned her head to look at the bull pen outside of Cavanaugh's office, she could see sneaking glares towards them.
"What's going on?" She asked, more forcefully this time.
"Came in at 2 AM this morning. But he's not talking," Cavanaugh said with a sigh.
"He's not..." Jane begin repeating the words to herself, trying to make sense of it. "But he turned himself in!"
"I know. Says he only wants to talk to one person. Won't speak to anyone else."
Jane's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Who?"
Cavanaugh paused, looking Jane up and down. He shook his head slightly, before meeting her eyes again, his voice somewhere between bemusement and accusation.
"You."
