Jane is late.
Maura has the whole weekend planned. Tonight, after Jane gets home from work, they're going to watch the Patriots game and pack during the commercials. Tomorrow they're going to Maura's house for the first time. Jane is going to spend the whole weekend there with her – they'll spend the night there for the first time since Maura was taken. They have a list of things to do and what Jane is calling a "troubleshooting guide" from Dr. Riley to help Maura not freak out.
On Saturday they're going to bring Kylie over to meet Bass and play in Maura's backyard. Maura has a secret fantasy that Tommy and Lydia might move into the house with her, or at least into the guesthouse, so Kylie would be around all the time. It's not like Maura needs all the space, and if they didn't have to pay their mortgage they'd have money to save up for Kylie. It's a long shot, but she's hoping that getting Ky familiar with the house will be a step in the right direction.
On Sunday everyone is going to come over for family dinner. Jane and Maura are going to cook it—although Jane has made it clear they should expect Angela to show up several hours early to actually cook it herself—and it feels like a big step for Maura.
Her home, her friends, her family, her…whatever Jane is.
They still haven't talked about it. Maura hates to guess, but she's pretty sure that they're both waiting until after Sunday. Until after Maura can physically be in her own home. That feels like a really big healing step, and maybe she'll be well enough after it that they can talk about it. Maura knows that they've both been scared that this is just a trauma attachment – that after she's better it will fade. After Sunday, she hopes that won't be an argument they can make anymore. After Sunday, Maura is pretty sure the likelihood of that will be statistically insignificant so and they can start to move forward.
It's set to be a great weekend, a really big deal. But Jane is late.
Maura watches as the clock hits 5:30, telling herself that traffic on Fridays is horrible and if Jane wasn't able to leave until after 5, there is no way she could be home by now.
At 5:45 Maura gets out a book.
At 6:00 she writes and erases a text to Jane. Don't be scared, don't be clingy, you're okay.
At 6:15 she sends what she hopes is a casual text. "Hey Jane, let me know your ETA for optimal pizza timing."
At 6:30 she calls Angela, hoping to have a casual conversation, but she doesn't answer.
At 6:45 she calls Jane, but she doesn't answer.
At 7:00 she calls Frankie, but he doesn't answer.
At 7:01 she texts Frost asking if they're still at work, but he says he left around 2:30 to interview a suspect in a different case, and asks if she wants him to come over and wait with her. She declines.
At 7:15 she calls Jane, but she doesn't answer.
At 7:30 she calls Dr. Riley, who talks to her for fifteen minutes and tells her to keep her updated.
At 8:00 she starts calling local hospitals.
At 8:15, with her heart in her throat, she calls one particular number to make sure James Fleiss has not escaped from pre-trail custody. He has not.
At 8:45, when Jane finally walks in the door, Maura is nearly hysterical.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Jane hasn't even fully shut the door behind herself when Maura launches in. "I've been worried sick, Jane! You're three and half hours late, and you couldn't even call!? How could you not call, Jane!?" Maura holds her hand to her chest, trying to slow the heart rate that had been steadily creeping up all night. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"
But Jane isn't even reacting to her. She hasn't looked up from the floor. She slowly kicks her boots off and leaves them right in front of the door. Her hair is down and falling in front of her face, blocking Maura's view.
"Jane?" Maura's anger starts to dissolve at Jane's non-reaction, turning back into worry. "Jane?" Still no response. "Jane!"
Maura steps forward, right into Jane's space, and pushes her hair back behind her ear. "Jane!"
Jane is crying.
"Jane, honey, what's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"
Jane finally looks up at her, and her face is the saddest, most lost thing Maura has even seen.
All she can say is, "Maura."
Maura's panic is in high gear, but she tries to stay practical. She takes Jane's light jacket off and tosses it over a chair, subtlety checking for Jane for injuries. She doesn't notice any, but Jane hasn't moved enough for her to ascertain much. She tries to guide Jane over to the couch but Jane shakes her off and jerkily goes to the kitchen. Maura watches in terrified fascination as Jane mechanically reaches up to high cabinet, grabs a bottle of whiskey, and takes two long pulls.
"Jane?" Maybe it's how small Maura's voice sounds, or maybe it's the whiskey hitting her brain, but Jane finally seems to notice Maura.
She turns and, in two quick steps, has pulled Maura into the tightest hug of her life. Maura's arms come up around her and she tries to give what comfort she can as Jane just clings to her.
After a moment Jane starts mumbling something, but it takes Maura a while to realize what she's saying. "I'm sorry, Maur, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Maur."
Maura rubs her back in a way she remembers liking when Jane's done it to her, but it doesn't seem to help. She pulls back, cupping Jane's face in her hands. "Shh, honey, it's okay. I was just scared, but it's okay."
But Jane shakes her head, and Maura realizes Jane isn't sorry for being late and scaring her. There is something much worse Jane is sorry for.
And there is only one thing that could make Jane this upset.
Maura's hands slide down to grip Jane's arms as tightly as she can. "Is she…is she hurt? Did something happen to her?"
Jane shakes her head a little. "No." Her voice is hoarse. "Nothing happened to her."
"What is it?"
Jane squeezes her eyes shut, like if she doesn't have to see Maura hear this, then it won't be as bad.
"Nothing happened to her. But you can't see her anymore. Ever."
It takes Maura what seems like forever to understand because those words keep ringing in her head, drowning out what Jane is telling her. They're both sitting on the kitchen floor, side by side, with their backs against the cabinets. A handle is sticking into Jane's back but she welcomes the pain. It grounds her. It keeps her from crying more.
"Start again from the beginning." Maura's voice is dull and detached.
So is Jane's. "They called me to her therapist's office this afternoon—remember, Emily Stern? They were all there: Tommy, Lydia, Frankie, and my Ma. The short version is that Stern's not happy with how Kylie's progressing, and she's convinced Tommy and Lydia that the problem is you. That Kylie would attach back to them if you weren't around."
It's the third time Jane's told this part, so Maura's finally able to snap back. "That's ridiculous, Jane! There is no scientific proof of that!"
"I know, Maur." Her voice is heavier than before. "We fought them for hours. We told them everything, how good she is around you, how much better she's getting. I even called Dr. Riley, Maura, and had her talk to Dr. Stern. She was furious, Maur, but it didn't matter. Stern wouldn't change her mind and Tommy and Lydia were sold."
"They've never liked me." Maura's voice trembles as her arms wrap tight around her legs, drawn up tight to her chest.
"They're jealous of you," Jane corrects. "They're jealous of how she loves you."
"That's no reason to rip her from me!"
"I told them that. I told them that they were cowards, that keeping you apart just because they were jealous was insane, and that this could really hurt Ky. I told them this isn't putting her first, it's putting themselves first. But they didn't care, they wouldn't listen."
Maura drops her head onto her knees. She can't breathe.
"Ma and Frankie and I told them we couldn't support this, that we wouldn't help them with the mortgage payments or anything anymore, that we couldn't stand by it. And I really thought that would work, I mean, it's not like they can afford it themselves, but it didn't. But maybe if we're not around, if we don't help out, they'll come around eventually. When they realize we're serious."
"You can't do that, Jane." Maura's voice is tired but measured. She's a mess of emotions, but, as always, the logic in the situtation trumps how she feels. "You can't punish her even more. You can't keep her away from the three of you, and you certainly can't make her homeless. She'll need you even more than she ever has, Jane. Don't hurt her too."
"So, what? I'm just supposed to sit back and be okay with this?"
Maura shrugs helplessly. "We're not her parents."
"We should be," Jane mutters angrily.
Maura's response is fast and sharp. "We aren't."
"I know." Jane takes a long beat. "So what do we do?"
Maura inhales deeply, and seems to found some kind of inner peace or calm. "You…you need to call your mother. Go over to her house, talk to her. Figure out how you're going to talk to them and deal with them without hurting her more."
"What about you?"
Maura rises from the floor, somehow still graceful after a long sit on the cold hard laminate. "I'm going to go home."
Jane looks around for a quick moment, wondering wildly if she's not where she thinks she is. Maura's been living her for so long, it takes a full minute for her to realize that Maura means her own house, with Bass and the obnoxious neighbor. She sputters as she too stands (much more stiffly), "Wait, Maur, what?"
"I'm going to go home, Jane."
"I thought we were going tomorrow. We haven't packed up, or anything."
"I'm going to go tonight."
"Uh, okay. Lemme just throw some stuff in a bag, okay? Then we can go, and maybe pick up some food on the way?"
"No, Jane." Maura actually holds up a hand to stop her. "I'm going to go myself."
"Maura." Jane's voice is dripping with sweetness and sympathy and pity and Maura just hates it.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Jane. I'll—" Maura's voice sticks as she realizes that she won't be seeing Kylie tomorrow. She swallows. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Maura, don't." This time it's pleading, but Maura doesn't let it stop her as she heads out the door.
"Goodnight, Jane."
Jane slumps back against the counter, taking another deep swig from the bottle before covering her mouth with her hands and, just for a moment, screaming.
Maura doesn't call on Saturday. Jane calls her in the afternoon after her fifth text goes unanswered. She's been so worried. Maura was never supposed to spend her first night in that giant house by herself, and Bass isn't exactly a guard-tortoise. At about ten different times she was so close to getting in her car and going over, but she didn't have a key and Maura wasn't answering her texts, and she thought the sound of someone trying to break in, or someone watching from a car outside, was likely to freak Maura out more than anything. So she'd waited.
But when Maura finally answers the phone Saturday afternoon she's brusque and brushes Jane off, telling her that she'll come by Sunday night after family dinner, which she's sorry but she can no longer host.
It's the strangest conversation they've ever had. Jane's worried enough that she calls Angela, but Angela advises her to wait it out. Everyone deals with change differently, she reminds Jane, and this may just be Maura's coping mechanism. She'll come around soon.
So Jane frets and she worries and she sends lots and lots of unanswered texts, but she waits.
On Sunday, around 9pm, Maura knocks on Jane's door.
Jane hurries to open it, slipping a little in her socks. She'd stress cleaned so thoroughly this morning that the floors are extra slippery. She yanks the door open, still off-balance, and then trips over herself.
She realizes, as she sees Maura, that she'd been expecting her to come back and spend the night again. She hadn't known she was subconsciously expecting this until she sees Maura's outfit – tight jeans tucked into menacing tall black boots and a light gray sweater that gives off an "I cost more than your annual salary" vibe, with an intimidating black purse on one shoulder. Her hair is done and she's wearing more makeup than Jane's ever seen on her.
This is not a casual sleepover outfit. This is a power outfit, and it scares the hell out of Jane. She's never seen this Maura before. This is rich, powerful, old-money, youngest medical examiner in history, my ancestors came over on the Mayflower, Ice Queen, Maura Isles. This is the woman who kept people at such a distance that she wasn't reported missing for days. This is someone Jane has never met.
"Jane," she says as she walks in, her voice crisp and professional.
Jane codfishes at her for a moment before blinking a couple of times, realizing she's still holding the door open. She shuts it and follows Maura to the kitchen counter where she's leaning. "You, um, you didn't answer my texts."
"I know. I was busy."
"Um, okay." Jane stills feels like she's in a dream, one of the ones where she has to take a test but she's never been to the class before. That sinking, freezing feeling of being underprepared for something so crucial. She's been living with Maura for three months, but in this moment she's less prepared than she's ever been in her life. "Busy with what?"
Maura doesn't answer the question. Instead she takes a deep breath, reaches into her pocket, and places something small down on the counter. She pushes it, almost in slow motion, over to Jane with one long finger. Jane's heart may actually have stopped.
It's the key to her apartment.
"Maura." Her voice comes out in a squeak. "What are you doing?"
"This belongs to you." Her voice is still steady and professional, but Jane can hear something under it.
"No." Jane pushes it back towards her, hard. "It's yours."
Maura shakes her head, and Jane can see her start to crack. "You need to take it back." She takes a beat, trying to collect herself. "I need you to take it back."
Jane knows the question she should ask is why, but she doesn't. She doesn't care why, she can't listen to why. "No."
Maura swallows and when she speaks again, her voice is back to being clipped and just a little condescending. Distant. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be, Jane."
Jane tightens what she hasn't realized is already a white-knuckle grip on the counter. "This isn't happening, Maura. You're not doing this."
Maura just shakes her head.
"Okay," Jane says, trying to gather herself. "Okay, fine. You don't want to stay here anymore, I get that. Give me a key to your place, then." This is an insane demand and Jane knows it, but she can't stop herself.
"Jane." Maura's voice is soft and sympathetic and condescending and Jane just hates it.
"Give me a key, then, Maura. You can't just run away from me, not answer my calls, not see me, not after all this. I won't let you do that, Maura."
"I'm leaving town, Jane."
"Okay. Where are we going?"
Maura shakes her head again. "It's not…" She swallows. "I'm going myself."
Jane is trying and failing to play it cool. "Okay, what are we talking, like, a long weekend?"
Maura takes a beat, then lets out a resolute breath.
"Jane, I'm moving."
Jane sort of can't believe how silent it is in the room. If there were any justice in the world, her life shattering around her should at least make some sort of sound, something loud and dramatic. But instead, it's just silent for a long time, until, worried Jane didn't hear her, Maura says it again. "I'm moving."
Jane responds quickly this time. "No."
"I'm leaving tonight."
Another silent crash.
Jane finally asks it. "Why?" She hasn't let go of the counter. She's not sure how she's still standing.
Maura clenches her hands together. She takes a long moment before she speaks, trying and failing to gather her composure. This was always going to be a losing battle. "Did you—" She swallows heavily, and the rest of the mask falls away. "Did you really think I could stay here and not see her?"
Jane had thought it was bad when it was new-scary-Maura walking out of her life. Now that it's her Maura, though, it's indescribably worse. Jane lets go of the counter and takes an involuntary step towards her. "Maura, please."
Maura matches her step, backing up. "I can't do it, Jane." Her voice has a warning in it now. "Don't ask me to do it."
"Please, we can fix it. Just stay, Maura, we can fix it." Jane keeps advancing on her, pleading.
Maura holds up a hand. "No, we can't."
"They'll come around!"
"They won't."
"You can't just leave!" They both hear the unspoken last word. You can't just leave me.
"You can't ask me to do that, Jane." Maura's voice is shaking now, and thick with tears. Her words come fast. "You can't ask me to be here, with you, when you get to see her I don't. You can't ask me to sit back and hear your stories about her, see your pictures with her, and not get to see her myself. That's torture, Jane. You can't ask me to do that."
Somewhere, deep in her gut, Jane knows that Maura's right. But she can't give up. "Then you'll see her. Fuck them, Maur, we'll sneak her here, or at the park, or something." She takes a quick step forward and grabs Maura's hands in both of hers. "We'll make it work, we will!"
But Maura shakes her head, a couple tears coming loose from her lashes. "You know we can't." She's so close to losing it. "You know we can't."
"Then I won't see her. We'll miss her together."
"Never." Maura's voice is firm, though they both know she's seconds away from sobbing. "I would never let you put me before her. She's going to be so…." Maura lets out a little sob. "She's going to need you so much. You're the only one who will put her first."
Jane's voice is hoarse. "Someone has to put you first, Maura."
Maura shakes her head, crying heavily. "You can't, Jane. We can't."
Jane can't think of another loophole. The feeling of dread solidifies in her gut. "So…what do we do?"
Maura has already given her answer. She says it again, more gently this time. "I'm moving."
Jane lets go of her hands and pulls her in, holding onto her for dear life. She says it out loud. "Please don't leave me."
Maura holds her back, grateful they can't see each other cry anymore. "I'm going to miss you."
"Please. Don't go."
There's nothing else to say. "Jane."
Jane pulls back, looking directly into her eyes. "Maura, I lo—"
"—No." Maura interrupts her before she can say it. "Don't."
"Maura—"
"Don't."
"I—" Maura stops her by putting a finger over Jane's mouth.
"—Please." This time Maura's the one begging. "Please, don't say it. I—this will be so much harder if you say it."
Jane shakes her head, dislodging the finger. She feels it, it doesn't matter if she says it. How could this be worse? "But you know that I do."
"If you say it," Maura's eyes are closed, like if she can't say Jane say it she won't hear it, "I just…I'll just." A pause. "I just really can't hear you say it. Please, Jane." She pauses again, gathering herself. Jane leans forward, resting her forehead on Maura's, gripping the back of Maura's neck with both hands. When Maura speaks again, it's a whisper. "This is already killing me."
Jane whispers too. "What am I supposed to do?"
Maura squeezes Jane's arms. "Just…be who you were, before."
Jane closes her eyes. "I don't know what that means anymore."
Maura inhales deeply. "Keep being her Auntie Jane. Keep being her hero."
Jane's voice cracks. "I don't know that I can do that without you."
"You have to."
Maura pulls in her and holds her, hard, for another long moment. Then she pushes away and, without wiping her face, grabs her purse and walks the few steps to the door.
"Maura." Jane's voice is broken.
Maura pauses, her hand on the doorknob. Her head is bowed, like she's trying to speak through her tears. After a long moment, she straightens up, nods once, pulls open the door, and walks out.