"Just for clarification, you want to discover the source of your emotional trust block, correct?" Dr. Matthews asked.
Jane rolled her eyes. "Yeah, doc, just as I said yesterday."
He gave her a mildly amused glare over the rims of his glasses. "So, are we actually going to discuss all of the traumatic occurrences which have appeared in your life? Hoyt, Bianchi, et cetera?"
Jane swallowed the urge to growl at the very thought. "I suppose we're going to have to."
Dr. Matthews simply looked at her skeptically. "You're going to have to start fighting your urge to use sarcasm and diversion tactics if you want to make any kind of progress, Jane."
She sighed. She knew that, she did, but it was hard. She'd spent her entire life making sure her problems were her own and to just attempt to flip the switch and pour it all out? She had trouble coming to terms with it.
It was hard to ignore his searching stare, under which she felt herself deflate.
"Good. I know that you know, Jane. Sometimes, you just need to be reminded of that and of why you're here."
Maura. Myself. My family. Maura.
I can do this.
"Most likely, your 'block' as you've deigned to address it, stems from a devastation you've experienced. From what I know of you, I have an educated guess about the instigating factor, but just in case: before you joined BPD, did you experience any such events?" He leaned back in his chair to get comfortable.
At least this question was easy. "Nope. BPD kind of set the tone for stressful situations."
"So, Hoyt," Matthews stated, leaving the end of the fragment hanging.
"Hoyt," Jane agreed.
He gave her a minute to reflect on it, using the time diligently to bring back to mind all the case facts. He'd spent the latter part of yesterday buried in all of the Hoyt-related reports for this. If Jane wanted to give this the old college try, he didn't want to let her down.
"Why don't we start off easily?" Matthews offered. "How were you feeling when you first approached the house?"
She shuddered at the recollection. "I was stupid. I felt confident, over confident, that the take down would happen without a hitch. My mind wasn't as focused as it should have been and that's how I was knocked out with the two-by-four. Rookie mistake," she explained, chastising herself again.
He slowly walked her through entering the house and the basement, locating Cordell, and returning to consciousness only to find herself pinned to the concrete floor. For Jane's part, she was brutally honest about it all, even if it took a bit of coaxing for the trickier things.
"What was going through your head when Korsak appeared?"
Jane swallowed thickly. "I didn't want him to be there," she said automatically and then grimaced. "I mean, I'm glad he was there, he saved my life, but I just – I didn't want him to see me like that; weak, broken, unrespectable and incapable."
He bit his tongue to keep his calm. Really, this woman drove herself too hard, maintained standards that were too high for a long-term relationship, and he knew it wasn't necessary. Of course he knows that some guys in the department would give her shit about being a woman, but they are the ones who won't be appeased no matter how high her clearance rate or how well she does her job and it actually kind of infuriates him that she's trying to prove herself to people who don't matter; not to her.
Him telling her that, regardless of how true it is, wouldn't be beneficial. Rizzoli was the kind of person who had to come to these realizations herself, so all he could do was take the back seat and try to guide her along.
Instead, he asked her a question. "Jane, how many cops do you know who have been in the same sorts of situations as yourself? Not identical, but high-risk?"
She cocked her head to one side before answering, "At least three-quarters."
He nodded, "And how many of those incidents were you involved in?"
A brief pause for contemplation, "Maybe half."
His soft stare turned speculative on a dime. "After, did you think any less of them for having been in those situations?"
The lines on her jaw tightened and he watched the sudden comprehension appear on her face. "No."
He waited.
"But it's not the same!" She declared fervently, leaning forward in her chair. His gaze turned curious.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a woman!" Jane snarled without hesitation.
"You are," he agreed easily. "Your point?"
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Snapping her lips shut, she slumped down in her chair like a petulant child.
He sensed the opportunity to make some clear headway, "Jane, if you can't cleanse yourself of the pre-conceived notions of a woman on the police force, if you can't overcome the sexism in yourself, how can you demand it from other people?"