I still don't own anything.
Kings Horses - JET
"I had been sick for a long time. When the day came for me to leave the hospital, I barely knew how to walk anymore, could barely remember who I was supposed to be. Make an effort, the doctor said, and in three or four months you'll be back in the swing of things. I didn't believe him, but I followed his advice anyway." - Paul Auster's Oracle Night
"Jane? Jane! Please don't leave! Wait, I'm sorry. Please!"
Jane stumbled away from Maura. They were outside now.
"No," she slurred. She shook her head. "No."
"Please, Jane." Maura's voice calmed down. She struggled to keep her breathing down too. "Can you let me help you? Jane, you're bleeding…"
"No." Jane attempted to stumble in the other direction. "Doesn't matter…"
Jane had dropped her bottle in the hallway. The gash on her forearm dripped with fresh blood, staining her soiled shirt. The skin felt tight.
She tensed when she felt a pressure on her back. Maura had hugged her from behind. Steadying her. Instinctively she let air flood through her nose. Then, her mind reeling, she attempted to pull herself away, but to no avail.
"You shouldn't touch me," whispered Jane.
Maura winced. It held the same tone as before. The unadulterated desperation. The devastation. Slowly she let go, only to turn Jane to face her. She took the injured forearm into her hand, doing her best not to look up at the deeply bruised face. She wiped away some of the blood with her thumb.
Normally, she wouldn't. Not with her own bare skin. But with Jane? With Jane's blood?
"You're… you're going to need stitches. I need to clean up this laceration, or it will get infected."
Jane was silent. Maura continued; "You're inebriated. It's bleeding out more. I'll… Please let me help you, Jane."
"Not going back in there."
"I won't ask you to," whispered Maura. She felt guilty but couldn't figure out why. "I'll take you to your apartment, and we'll clean this up there, okay?"
Jane shook her head; "Aparment… looksh like shit."
"Here." Maura ushered Jane towards the passenger side of her car. "Sit down. I'll drive you."
"What about… him?" Jane slurred as Maura turned the keys and started to drive.
Jane couldn't bring herself to say his name.
"Ian is a big boy. He can take care of himself. You need stitches."
"I'm sorry," Jane whispered, her voice husky. Her head was leaning on the window. Her arms were wrapped around herself. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Maura's eyes were trained on the road.
"I messed things up," she slurred, in response. "I fucked up, and now everything's… messed up… My fault…"
Maura winced as Jane continued to ramble, the alcohol clearly lubricating the words.
"I need you," she slurred, huskily. Her voice came down to a whisper again. "I'm sorry."
"Please stop being sorry," whispered Maura, back. "You don't have to be sorry about anything."
"No," Jane said, shaking her head vigorously. "I messed everything up… I made it stop working…" She turned her head towards Maura, and the doctor could suddenly feel the intense gaze locking onto her. "It hurts," she said, without any emotional filter, and Maura knew she was not talking about the gash.
The lump in Maura's throat stopped her from saying anything.
And neither said anything until Maura's car pulled up beneath the streetlight. Maura pushed herself out of the car before walking over to the other side to help Jane out. Slowly the two of them walked towards Jane's apartment steps.
She stumbled forward, and with two arms, Maura caught her. Jane caught the stair railing with one hand and vomited, and as Maura held the detective's hair back, her heart broke. The pain shattering Jane's body was shockingly clear and began to permeate into Maura.
Maura set Jane down onto a seat before retrieving a first aid kit from her car. Upon coming back, she quickly wiped away the blood with the wipes, doing her best to sanitize the cut without hurting Jane. She brought the needle to Jane's skin and closed the laceration, finishing with the small bandages she kept. She made a mental note to buy larger ones for the kit.
For the first time in a while, Maura looked up at Jane's face. The bruises were a deep, dark color. Both her eyes seemed even further deeply set, the bruises covering them almost black. She brought her palm to Jane's face and winced with the latter instinctively pulled back. Slowly she touched the skin again, feeling Jane's muscles relax beneath her fingers.
Maura gently ran her thumb against Jane's cheek, tears threatening to fall from her eyes again. Her fingers found Jane's nose.
She smiled weakly before speaking; "Do you want me to put it back?" she whispered, quoting Jane.
And Jane smiled ever so slightly before nodding. She grabbed Maura's free hand, anticipating the pain that would reverberate through her face. With a small pop, the broken nose was back into place.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Their fingers weaved together, and Maura felt Jane's pained breath calm. Calm was beginning to overtake the detective in front of her.
"How much did you drink tonight?" she asked.
Jane shook her head.
"I've never seen you… this inebriated before..."
Jane shook her head again. So Maura sighed and got up, stepping over piles of clothing to get to the kitchen. Jane let out a small whine when feeling the warmth leave her hand.
"Let me just get you some water, okay? You're dehydrated."
This time, Jane nodded, and when the water was given to her, she gratefully relieved her stinging, parched throat. Maura put her hand back into the detective's.
"You said… You said you were sorry," said Maura, her voice painted too. "But it's not you who should be sorry, is it? It's me… It's me who've done something. I'm the one who did something wrong, aren't I?"
"No." Jane shook her head. "Me. My fault. Not yours. Please."
"You've been pulling away, Jane. You said that you weren't. Not anymore. But I felt it, and I gave you time like you asked. But that wasn't enough, was it? Whatever I was doing wrong before, I was still doing it, and I was only making things worse." Tears fell from Maura's eyes. "Wasn't I?"
"No!" Jane's voice was stronger, and she was shaking her head more vigorously. "You didn't do anything wrong. But you shouldn't be around me," she whispered. "I'm… no good to be around. I'm dangerous."
"What are you saying Jane?"
"Ian isn't good for you." Maura looked away as Jane slurred her words. "He's an ass. You deserve… better than him. But… you gotta go find someone else. The kinda guy you deserve… who'll take care of you proper."
Both of them, for some reason, heard the unspoken words that never left Jane's mouth. The unspoken words that should've finished Jane's sentence. Like I would. Maura couldn't place the feelings that were beginning to sprout and grow in her heart. No; they were already there. They had already been planted, and they had already sprouted. But they had grown to the point were Maura, Doctor Maura Isles, finally noticed them. She tried desperately to identify the feeling.
"I don't understand what you are trying to say, Jane."
And Jane looked away, frustrated that her drunk mind couldn't figure out a way to get the message across.
Maura brought her free hand to Jane's face again, gently running her thumb over the bruises. The skin was tender and Maura flinched.
"Ian said… Ian said that his colleagues did this to you… but… it was him, wasn't it? He did this to you?"
Jane put her other hand over Maura's; "I want you to be happy."
"Please, Jane. Please answer my question."
"You deserve… to be happy," she slurred, side stepping.
"Please don't avoid the question. Please don't deflect. I need to know."
"Does he make you happy?" she asked, pain breaking through her voice. "When he holds you, are you happy? Are you happy when he kisses you? You… should be happy. I want to see you happy. That's… all that matters."
Suddenly Maura found herself the one unable to answer the question posed. She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again, realizing she didn't have the right words at the ready. She continued to run the pad of her thumb across Jane's cheek, relishing in the contact. Jane's eyes fluttered close and a breath escaped her lips. She mirrored Maura's thumb by drawing her own shapes across Maura's hand.
She imagined Maura's lips against hers. She imagined what it would feel like, their lips moving together, meeting finally. She imagined what it would feel like to have their bodies fit together, to have skin touching skin. She imagined what it would be like to have Maura love her.
Jane didn't open her eyes, terrified that she might lean forward out of her own accord and kiss the doctor in front of her.
Neither woman spoke in a long while, both afraid to shatter some invisible thing that floated somewhere in the room. Neither could really identify what this invisible thing was but they knew it was there. They both did.
It was a while before Maura could rack up the courage to stand up and pull away from Jane, their fingers still intertwined.
"You should rest," she whispered, pulling Jane towards the bedroom.
Maura sat Jane down onto the bed before lowering herself to untie and remove Jane's shoes. She laid Jane down onto the bed, grazing the skin of her thumb over Jane's cheek one last time, memorizing the sensation and logging it somewhere in her head, her memory.
"I'll be on the couch. If you need me… Just call."
"No," whispered Jane.
Maura felt a hand wrap gently, but firmly, around her wrist. She looked back towards Jane.
"Stay," whispered the detective.
Slowly, the doctor complied, lying herself onto the bed. The two woman looked up at the ceiling, their bodies above the covers.
Maura had told herself not to, but she fell asleep before Jane did. Of course, Jane didn't sleep. She couldn't. Maura had brought a couple glasses of water earlier, and Jane had been downing the glasses slowly. She could feel herself beginning to sober up.
Maura's head found Jane's neck again. Her legs rubbed against Jane's.
Jane shivered at the combination of the two sensations and swallowed hard.
She felt Maura's arm throw itself across Jane's stomach, her hand finding Jane's hip and sneaking underneath the shirt. Jane could feel her heartbeat tremble through her. The blood pumped through her ears quickly and loudly. Maura's hand traveled up Jane's skin, closer to Jane's breasts, and Jane felt the moan escape her lips.
"Maura," she said.
The woman's eyes fluttered open. A part of her was still sleeping. Confused she tried to pull away and get up from the bed. Her hand slipped on the fabric and she fell, her body topping Jane's. She could feel Jane's labored breathing on her skin.
Neither woman could ignore how close, at that moment, their lips were. And neither woman could speak.
Every muscle in Jane's body told her to close the gap, to simply lift her head the half an inch, and let the two sets of lips meet. She had never thought so quickly in her life. Every image of Maura, every hint that Maura might've left behind, every word that Maura ever said… They all blasted through Jane's head in that moment. All at once.
She really couldn't call it thinking.
So when Jane Rizzoli strained her neck up, even she was surprised.
Their lips didn't move. Their lips were just pressed together.
Jane shifted ever so slightly, wondering if she should deepen the kiss.
But Maura had already pulled away. She was awake now, and she had pushed herself back over to the other side of the bed. She stared over at the other woman as she touched that patch of skin where Jane's lips had just recently been.
"Jane?" she said, her voice shaking, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I… What is… I can't… I just… I can't, Jane. Oh, Jane… This… Us… I can't do this."
Jane, too, pushed herself away from where she had been lying. She let her feet touch the floor, her back now turned to Maura. She hadn't cried in a long time. She never allowed herself the pleasure. But now, when she wanted them the least, they began to touch her eyes.
"No," she said. The desperation was back in Jane's husky voice. "You're right. You can't do this. You shouldn't do this… I'm not… I'm not good enough. I never was."
"Jane… That's…"
"No. I'm a cop and I'm not safe to be around. I'm hot tempered. I'm stubborn. I'm dumb. Hell…" The unshed tears began to touch Jane's voice. "Hell, I'm just a dumb cop, and there isn't no use fighting for me."
Maura didn't move, dumbstruck. She hardly could comprehend just what was going on around her. Her mind jumbled Jane's words, and all Maura saw – all Maura heard – was reduced to a series of hot flashes. Tears were streaming down the doctor's face. Jane knew they were. So as she stood up from the bed and walked towards the door, she didn't dare look back.
"I'm not going to ask you to leave," she said. She had sobered up considerably. Enough to speak without a blatant slur, anyway. "You came all the way out here for me, so… Stay. I… I'll go to my parent's place." Jane paused before speaking again. She was about to close the door behind her. "Don't worry, okay? I won't do nothing stupid."
And so Maura was left in the darkness of Jane's apartment, with nothing but the sound of her own confused sobs.
Jane grimaced as the blast of humidity pushed her face when she walked outside. She turned, stumbling slightly as she tried to find a cab that would take her away. No cab would come down this street this late at night, not on its own accord anyway. She walked towards the brighter lights of a main street.
She never heard the footsteps creep up behind her, not until the muffled hand sealed her mouth shut. The man's breath was hot against the skin of her ear as he spoke. He smelled like piss, and her consciousness was beginning to fade.
"A drunk, banged-up Jane Rizzoli… Must be my lucky day, detective," said the familiar voice. It grew closer and hotter on Jane's ear. "Looks like you're listening to your heart too much again, Jane."