AN : A big thank you to all of you. Thanks to my beta, LoveIsles.
Italics refers to the past (near or far).
After a few seconds, alone with Maura, you really look at her. And what you see breaks you inside. The physical pain seems like nothing compared to the dark cloud entering your mind and your chest. You want to bury yourself for what you're putting her through. She's crying. Tears running down her cheeks. She doesn't try to wipe them away.
All the sudden, she seems small. So small. Nothing like the powerful woman she usually is. She is pale. And she looks fragile. Knowing that you may be the cause of all that fills you with shame. The same shame you've felt so many times. You're out of place. Here. With her. You don't understand why someone like her would want someone like you.
She doesn't come near you. Doesn't reach for you. There is a tension. A feeling that you can't define. You're blocked. In this bed. Your body is suffering. And you try to prepare yourself for the worst. You list all the excuses you know. You get ready to hear her say that she doesn't want to see you. Ever. Again. This time, you're sure it's going to happen.
Instead, it's the complete opposite that occurs. Before you can react or say anything. Maura is at your side. Carefully holding your left hand with her right one. And passing her left arm behind your neck. Resting it on your shoulders. Her forehead on your neck. Everything is quiet. Time's stands still. And then, she sighs. A deep, meaningful sigh. It's like you're breathing again. Together. And you're sure that it's reality. Maura has this power. To ground you. To calm you. It's the first time that your hands are bare. Exposed. Like yourself. But you don't try to cover them. Instead, you lean in. As much as you can. You hold onto her. Like a promise. Of a better tomorrow. And you want to believe that. So much. And forever. If you're allowed to dream.
Her embrace don't last enough. But considering how much you're sore and hurt, it's better than anything. She detaches herself from you. Choosing to sit on the bed. It may not be very comfortable but she's with you. You're sharing space. As little as it is. And she's still holding your hand. She starts caressing your cheek. And you let her. Because it's the best medicine you know. Her touch can heal you. Her voice also heals you. Even if it's nothing more than a whisper. Entangled with sobs and tears.
"Oh Jane. I'm so glad that you're awake. I was so worried. And I'm sorry…So, so sorry." She starts. But you frown and stop her.
"Maura, I'm the one that should be apologizing…"
It's her time to frown. And she interrupts you before you can finish.
"No, I'm sorry. And I'm the only one apologizing. To you." She pauses. Regaining courage, she looks at you. This time, her tone is more steady. Firm.
"I'm sorry I insisted that you to come with me to the gala." She weeps. "I didn't know that Ga…Garret would be here. Most of all, I'm sorry that he put you in that hospital bed."
She's blaming herself and you've found yourself falling a little more.
"Maura, you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't know that he was going to be here. Even less that he was so angry at you that he would try to shoot you." You pause. "I'm glad I decided to come after all. So that you're not in this bed…" Or worse you think.
This time, her hug is fierce. Almost violent. Like she wants to take you all in. She sobs. Continues to cry on your shoulder. But it's more like a lullaby to you. And the meds are so powerful that you drift to sleep again. Holding onto Maura. Hoping she will be there the next time you wake up. Because you want to say so many things to her.
The following week in the hospital provides nothing new. But it increases your angst. Your frustration. To a level you doubt you've ever felt. Even if you're too familiar with hospitals. You don't like it. You feel weak. Vulnerable. Exposed. And those feelings reinforce your insecurities. You have trust issues. You knew that before. You were careful. Of everyone. Of everything. When it comes to trusting anyone, it's something almost impossible. But, somewhere in that major aspect of your personality, Maura has made her way in. You don't know how. Or when. But she has. Maura understands. Without having to tell her. What or how you feel. It's written. On your face. In your movements. It's engraved in your way of looking. Speaking. Avoiding. You've been here before. And you're here now. This place. Dark. And again, you start questioning everything. Everyone. Motives. Gestures.
Maura is the best. She does everything. She pulls every strings she knows. She got you a private room. She pacifies your interaction with your Ma. She supports you. She eclipses herself when your brothers come to visit. She insists that you eat. That you sleep. She's careful you do not overdo anything. She's remarkable. But you're incapable of seeing her dedication as extraordinary. You find everything annoying. You're grumpy. Uncomfortable with all the attention. Caring about nothing. Unpleasant with everybody. Even with Frost when he comes.
Your bad attitude finally pays off. Your doubts have taken the best of you. Your insecurities. Your shame of yourself. You did a great job. At pushing her away like that. Making her disappear. Making sure, this time, she wouldn't want to see you ever again. Your defense mechanism is victorious. It had the power of inflecting all that to yourself. Then to her. It's so hurtful. For everybody. It doesn't do any good. And it never will. You know perfectly all that. But you can't help yourself.
And now, you want to scream. To tear everything apart. But most of all you want to forget. To erase your memories.
Maura enters the room. And like yesterday, you're irritable. Mean. Without reason.
"Jane, I know it may be a little too soon since you'll only be discharge in a couple of days but I have a proposition for you." Maura said, calmly.
"What is it ?" You respond, already grumping and mumbling.
"I was thinking that maybe you can come to my home for your recovery." She pauses. Waiting for a reaction but when you say nothing, she continue. "I think it will be easier for the both of us. I'll be able to take care of you. Elison and Carol will be here during the day to assist you with anything you might need. And I will see you at night. This way, you'll be taken care of and I will worry less about you. It might also relieve your mother. To know that you're not alone all day and night."
You're angry. With what she's implying. That last part alone is enough to irritate you. So much.
"I can take care of myself Maura. I don't remember you being here the last time I was injured. I did great, all by myself. I can be on my own." You said harshly, emphasizing the last part. You're not a child. You don't need help. And you certainly don't need a second mother.
She's does not react right away. But your bad disposition toward her may have worked. She stands. Resolute. Determined. Before saying, with a cold and distant voice: "Because you are physically suffering, it doesn't give you the right to snap and be mean to everybody Jane. I've seen and heard enough. Good luck with everything."
She storms out of the room. And that's the last word you hear from her.