Prometheus Chapter 45

"You know I don't like it when you say that." Maura kept her voice light, her tone clear, even though her heart had begun pounding in her chest. "Are you inviting me for dinner?"

All it took was the hollow laugh on the other end of the line, and Maura was moving. Her coat was already close enough to her to reach, her keys collected on the stand where they always lay.

"Deep dish Pizza?" She said, trying to keep the breathlessness out of her voice. The door closed behind her with a small click that she hid with a cough.

"Nah, never a fan." Came the answer, "Always been a thin crust boy."

"You're from Chicago, Jackson." She said, keeping her voice light as she wound the coat around herself and moved toward the elevator. "That's basically treason."

She jabbed her finger to the garage floor until it lit, the elevator lurching downward, Maura pulled the phone from her face long enough to watch the reception bars drop the longer she was there.

"Do- -ell -nyon- " The fragments of his words the signal would let through were enough.

Maura pressed her body against the doors even though she knew, rationally, it wouldn't make a difference, as she willed each of the twenty three floors to rise up to meet her

By the time the doors slid open again, Maura allowed herself a moment of relief when she saw the call was still progress.

"Secret's safe with me." She said as the doors opened. "But you'd better not want pineapple on it."

Ian would be angry, Maura knew.

They had planned dinner.

But some things-

"Jackson?"

"Don't come, Doctor Isles."

-some things, would always come first.

"Understand Captain. Yes."

Anna had been on the phone almost as long as the two of them had been together. The cut on Maura's neck stung; and her body still wore the malaise of general anaesthetic she knew all too well. She used to warn people about this exact thing. Her clothes felt stiff and starchy against her skin. The fitted shirt was a spare of Anna's – her bloodstained blouse had been deemed beyond salvageable – but the skirt was hers, and it felt… uncomfortable.

She watched the blurs of the rain flit past the window, as they passed dirty piles of snow in driveways and gutters which gave way to more roads and uncharacteristically light traffic until a directional sign to Saw Mill Parkway North came into view.

North East.

So not back to Bedford Hills.

That same pricking discomfort flared across Maura's stomach and she found herself pinching the material of her skirt at mid-thigh, tugging it down unconsciously, an attempt to smooth wrinkles that didn't exist.

Like a pendulum, regardless of where Maura focused her attention; the rain, the windscreen wipers, the one-sided conversation or the blur of the New England winter barrelling past the window, Maura's mind kept returning back to Jane.

The fear in her eyes as Hoyt stood over her. The agony in her voice as she'd begged him to end her life. The weight of it all; the years of imprisonment and torture she had endured only to be proven innocent after all this time. The harshness of her circumstances and yet how… gentle, she was capable of being.

…The warm breath against her skin the moment before Jane-

Maura squeezed her eyes shut and turned toward the window, her fingertips ghosting across her lips as she willed her heart to slow and the ache in her chest to lessen.

'God, I said if we'd met in another life…'

"You alright?"

Maura started at the sound of Anna's voice being directed at her. She nodded mutely, eyes still directed at the cars slipping past them in the outer lanes, before realising it was unlikely Anna would be able to see her answer and she turned her head.

"Only a little sore." She said. "Nothing that won't pass."

It was Anna's turn to nod, and Maura couldn't help but notice the way Anna's fingers gripped the steering wheel just a little bit too tightly, her lips drawn into a thin line as she shifted lanes to merge onto the I-684.

"Anna?" Maura studied the woman for a moment. "Where are we going?"

"We, are going to Danbury, Connecticut." She answered, the edge in her tone as sharp as the wiper blades dragging backwards and forwards across the windscreen. "You, are going somewhere else after that."

"Connecticut? I-" Maura faltered, . "-I don't understand."

Anna cast a fleeting glance in Maura's direction and blew another long breath out of her nose when she saw her expression.

"It's still believed that Jame- Hoyt-" She corrected herself with a shake of her head. "-has an accomplice. While he's still alive, and until they work out how deep his reach goes, consensus is you're too valuable to the case and therefore, no longer safe, and neither is Jane."

Maura's eyes narrowed, and she turned more fully to face Anna in her seat, dragging the seatbelt around her body.

"As in-"

"Yes, as in that."

"And I'm guessing the they is-?"

"FBI. Yes."

Maura chewed on the inside of her cheek, the discomfort settling heavier and heavier around her midsection.

"And Jane?" She asked, somewhat fearfully.

Anna blew out a long breath, and Maura caught the way she glanced across to her, even though she remained facing the road.

"She's already on her way. They're about an hour ahead of us."

Maura's mind instantly felt like an echo chamber.

She's already on her way.

She's-

"She's already-" The words stuttered out of her mouth ungracefully, and Maura found herself wishing she could retract it and reprise with something less… obvious.

"Nothing's been vacated yet, Maura." Anna said, voice softer now. "But given what we know and who's involved… The FBI felt she would be safer out of Bedford." She paused, turning her head, and Maura could feel the micro-seconds of scrutiny across her entire face. Anna turned back to the road. "-I don't know anything beyond Danbury. But I do know that's where Jane was being dropped off as well."

Maura nodded mutely, swallowing against an unexpected thickness in her throat and stared back out the window.

"What did she do to him?" She asked, after a full five minutes in silence. The I-85 came into view, along with a sign to Connecticut. Maura wasn't familiar with Danbury as a town, but gateway towns were common between New York and New England. "How is he still alive?"

"Sliced clean through both of his Achilles tendons." Anna replied. "There's an… odd irony in it. He took her hands, she took his feet."

Maura grimaced. To sever an Achilles tendon took more than a small amount of strength, and no measure of precision. She would have needed to know… what she wanted to do, and what she didn't

The pendulum swung again.

Maura watched the signs announcing their arrival into Danbury, confused as they sped directly past it.

"Anna-"

"We're not meeting in the town centre."

Maura watched as Anna looped back, slipping onto a residential street full of weatherboard houses and a dusting of snow across winter lawns left to grow. Maura couldn't remember the last time anywhere she lived had a lawn. There were occasions where she and Ian had talked about a future in rural Iowa, running some local clinic together while building a fully sustainable farm of pigs, chicken and cows.

The thought brought acid to her throat and she swallowed it aside.

"This is it."

As they drove through the underpass, a sprawling cemetery came into view. Icons, crosses and statues of varying apostles dotted amongst modest stones, all sprung from neatly trimmed grass – a stark contradiction to the houses they had just passed – some still with vibrant flowers bunched together in vases or even simply wedged amongst the stone.

It struck Maura that of all the places she had seen this winter, this would be the most alive.

Ahead of them, a black Chevy SUV loomed between two oak trees and a mausoleum. The rain had eased, but the air now bore a thickness of condensation akin to fog, and rested between the twisted branches exactly like it.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the dark vehicle, barely yards between them.

Maura watched Anna cut off the ignition and lights with a heavy sigh, pressing the tips of her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Maura, I wish I had more to offer you than what I have."

Reaching across the console, Maura rested her hand on the top of Anna's knee, and squeezed gently.

"I know." She said.

Ahead, the drivers' car door opened and a figure stepped out, onto the bitumen.

"I'm still… involved in the case. I'm still looking." Anna's voice was clearer now, the conviction laced all the way through her words. "I'll make sure-"

"I know." Maura interrupted her. Her eyes shifted to the figure standing at the car, and instantly darkened. "Him?" She found herself hissing.

Ahead of them, in a suit that would easily blend into any mourner in this place, stood Agent Dean.

He was in a hurry.

They had barely enough time to move bags between cars. Barely enough time for Maura to afford Anna a look of indignation followed by acceptance followed by sympathy, as Anna chased her own expression somewhere between guilt and disdain.

Maura found herself bundled into the back seat of the SUV, some commentary about risk management the reason she wasn't in the front, trying to separate the air conditioning from the overwhelming aroma of what she considered poor aftershave that permeated the entire car.

The Connecticut countryside blurred past differently to what it had. Something about the tinted windows, the back seat….

Dean drove, focused forward, jaw loose and gloved hands curled around the steering wheel, devoid of any signs that Maura could pin to anxiety about the situation, even as her own gut churned with it.

It took almost thirty minutes into the trip before Maura grit her teeth, crossed her arms over her chest and chose to speak.

"How do you feel about targeting an innocent woman, Agent Dean?" The bite in Maura's words was as clear as the cooling air whipping past the car windows.

She heard the exhale, the way Dean's hands curled and gripped around the steering wheel.

"You speak like she's already released." He muttered. "You speak like there aren't things for her to answer for."

Maura straightened in her seat. "We both know she has nothing to answer for."

"According to you?" He retorted, "Or according to the law? Don't take this as a release, Doctor Isles."

Maura felt the fabric of the seat flex under her fingers.

"You owe her an apology." She said.

Dean only scoffed, shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Give me one person who would have thought her anything but guilty." He responded, before raising an eyebrow in the rear view mirror Maura wished she could slap off his face. "With the exception of you."

Maura scoffed. "Anyone with any semblance of diagnostic skills and accountability would have come to the same conclusion."

"I'm not entirely sure that's true."

"And yet you're charged with her safety now?" Maura bit back. She shook her head, eyes turning back to the window, the concrete highway lining giving way to trees at the final stages of their life cycles where copper leaves still clung to their branches. "How reassuring."

"For what it's worth." Dean said, "I'm not in charge of her safety"

Maura almost scoffed at the statement before her conditioning shifted her away from it. From the back seat the only vantage point she had was the same rear vision mirror, and only if he chose to look her way, which felt to her like a ridiculous power play until he did, and she saw-

"-Not in the way it matters, anyway."

Maura stared back at at him, feeling her own face flash with anger.

…before fading to realisation.

And the pendulum swung again.

Gravel shifting underneath the wheels pulled Maura out of… contemplation? Worry? Hopefully not sleep – she thought to herself as she blinked the light back into her eyes and squinted through the tinted glass at a winter scape before her.

"We're here." The gruff announcement from Dean behind the wheel made Maura bristle, as if she should have known.

Possibly sleep.

Maura shifted up in her seat (having realised how far she had slipped), and swiped a hand over face as she stared across her body – wincing as the motion pulled at her neck – to the house on the other side of the car. It was unassuming, pale white weatherboard with a grey roof and double garage, more than twenty yards either side to the next property. On both sides of the front door were piles of dirty snow; evidence of a fall only days ago that didn't take.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"Willimantic." Dean ran his fingers along the steering wheel, before drawing his hands together and slowly removing his gloves. "Close enough but far enough away."

Maura scoffed, half in truth and half in challenge and narrowed her eyes.

"And who's trusting you in this new version of prison." She muttered. "Is Jane here? Or somewhere else?"

Dean shifted in his seat, twisting so he could face her completely, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You have no idea." He hissed. "You think we play games-"

Before he could finish his sentence, something within Maura snapped.

"Games?" She challenged. "You want to use that word?" Shifting against the door she drew herself straighter than the seat afforded it, ignoring the pull at her neck. "I've seen your games, Agent Dean. I've seen them and the aftermath of them. I don't use the word game, I use the word torture."

"For a reason!" His hand slapped against the dashboard, and even though his eyes remained on her the action took Maura aback . "For a reason…" he repeated, more quietly, finally turning away and lowering his head so Maura could no longer see his reflection in the mirror. "To save lives. To save people's lives."

Maura clenched her teeth. "Which is very altruistic of you. So who is going to save Jane's, now so much of it has been taken away?"

With a shake of his head, Dean opened the car door. Maura, with only the barest of internal triumphs followed suit, breathing in the icy scent of incoming winter as the soles of her shoes met the leaves beneath her feet.

It was a strange absence of control Maura felt, as she pulled the bag that Anna packed off the back seat, drew the coat across her shoulders and closed the door behind her. Walking around the car with the most indignation she could muster, Maura found it faltering at the sight of four guns trained in her vague direction, officers clearly in sight and yet still…

The strap of the bag pulled roughly against her neck, causing Maura to stop in her tracks and drop it to the leafy floor. She felt the breath sparking cold within her lungs, knew, as she bent over, the difficulty of getting upright again.

"Hey, whoa." Maura felt the presence beside her before she could protest it. "Let me help you."

They'd travelled barely two hours north and yet even with her years in Chicago the winter chill in Willimantic seemed to seep through her bones in ways Maura hadn't prepared for. She let Dean take the bag and followed behind him, suddenly feeling desperately tired.

"She's here." She heard, somewhere in her periphery as she ascended the stairs, eyes full of gravel and stomach full of lead. "I'm pretty sure she'll be glad to see you."

Her sluggish mind didn't put comment together until the door in front of her opened, and she stepped inside.

And hunched over a table… oversized blue hoodie and grey sweatpants, skittish, impossibly dark eyes moving between the door, and Dean, and her…

Was –

Maura felt all the air release from her lungs and fill them simultaneously.

"Jane…"

A/N: I know I have this rep of cliffhangers. But really, is there anything more than an entire. damn. chapter. that is going to do this reunion justice? I hope the vote is no. So. I'm leaving my fanfic fate in everyone's hands so you don't hate me. Meanwhile, I have decided to give us all a respite from 45 chapters of angst. So get ready for it, team. It may mean the story is longer than intended but it's most certainly going to have some warm fuzzies for Maura and Jane because damnit they deserve it.